Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Tales From The Exile: May

I can't remember when they kicked me off twitter. I think it was May. Feels like it was May. I've quit addictive things before, and a month after you get this dullness feeling. I have that dullness feeling, so it must have been in May.

Of course I started a new account almost immediately after they kicked @DomeBeers off. But they caught me there too. Suspended for having multiple accounts, or some shit. I had a good tweet about women get some attention, and they killed me off shortly after. I haven't bothered trying to start a new one.

I have an old alt account, @AGiantTRex, I think, but I can't remember the password to get in. So I'm done.

It's both good and bad. It's good for me because I have more time to chase skirt. It's bad for you because you don't get to hear my tales. Did I share the butt plug girl story before I got canned?

I wasn't going to even blog anymore but like I said, I'm feeling the post addiction dullness. So I came back here. Paid for this damn site, might as well use it.

March sucked, April sucked, but I wasn't an exile then so you heard all about it. DB, how was May?

May was cool. I enjoyed it. I took some time off after tax season. To the chagrin of at least one of you, I bought a used Dodge Challenger R/T, not a Mustang GT. I really like her. She's fast, she's low, she growls. And she's black. Which I like. I've owned her for about a month and I wash her twice a week. She's black.

Everyone tries to race me now, though. Everyone. Civics try to race me. I don't even know what the point is. Sometimes I oblige and most times I don't. I'm not scared of traffic or speed so I usually win. I narrowly lost to a Porsche 911, and that was cool. Did I mention she was black? Oh, she's mean.

I bought the Challenger for me, because I've wanted one since it came out. But I would be lying if I said it was not helping me get pussy. Girls don't even need to know it's a somewhat fancy car. I hit the gas and make the thing growl and it makes their pussy tingle. Lay-ups from there. I banged three chicks in May, and she helped me land everyone. That and the pickup line "You're attractive and I want to go out with you. Basically".

I'm getting pussy again, after the tax season dry spell. And it has me in a good mood so I have been helping other people get pussy. After one of my softball games I yelled at a girl walking across the street to have a beer with us. She came over. She said she was 19. She looked younger, and she weighed maybe 90 pounds. Heroin addict look, which I would have fallen in love with in my younger days. Turns out she was a heroin addict, fresh out of rehab. I got her and a buddy on the softball team talking, with my boyish charm, and they are still together a couple weeks later. Love Doctor DB.

Did I tell the butt plug girl story? I got a girl on tinder, went to pick her up in the Challenger, which I had just cleaned. She gets in and I do my usual thing where I took em home and start just assuming we're fucking, rubbing her legs and all that. Went from make out to eating pussy in about a minute, and I'm down there and I see this thing. It's a fucking butt plug. Which is cool, I guess, but all I was thinking about was how she had her butt plugged ass on my car's freshly detailed leather seats. Abundance mindset, I guess.

I finally got a date with that girl who had stood me up, the one I put on twitter couple months back. She was a hit it and quit it story, so not much to tell. Same thing, get her back home, sit on the couch with her legs over mine, start rubbing them and go up from there. She did the white girl thing of fake no's and then they turn into 'no don't stop'. Other than that, vanilla.

And I got with a black chick from south Sudan. Great tits on that one. That one I got by being extremely racist, like over the top jewish stereotype racist. It's in the vibe. If I hadn't been so charming I'm sure she would have had one of her 8 brothers beat me up.

And finally, while I have not banged the Brand New Hot Hindu girl I met, I am talking to her, and have a date with her this week, actually. This one I'm excited about. I deleted old hindu girl out of my phone, so hopefully this one can take her place. Love Hindu's. So hot.

The garden is going well, for all you #GardenTwitter veterans out there. I planted potatoes, lettuce, spinach, radish, zuchinni, tomatoes, corn, peas, carrots, and cucumbers. I think that's it. Everything came up, which was nice, as I planted them at the start of May and I think it snowed like a day after. I'll post pictures soon.
Other than that, not much has been happening. I built a shed box, and I built some birdhouses.

I'm taking next week off from work, so hopefully I can get some adventures from that to share. I have a few dates scheduled, one with a korean chick and one with another black chick, but she lives in Edmonton. She wants me to drive up and see her but I feel that would be bad for frame game. Might just bang the korean and work on the hindu chick instead. 

I'd really like it if the Flames were to do something, or if there was a cool Flames rumour. I could write about that, then.

Oh yeah I'm on instagram under a fake name where I post pictures of my dog. I think some of you have found me. Keep it on the down low now.

Thursday, April 26, 2018


They finally got me on the twittah. Probably one of my own niggas too. The fact that when I searched my name and it wasn't full of people mourning me was quite a shock. Fuck you all, all of you all.

I have an alt account, several actually, but after that betrayal I wont be sharing. Sorry.

If you see a low follower account calling some sports writer a faggot that might be me. Who knows.

I might come back here more, now. I haven't decided. Time will tell. I kinda like this place now because I have killed off the blogs following. It's more peaceful not having readers.

Godspeed, gentlemen.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

The Finals

JHL playoff hockey finals. Made it back. Won the first game, even. Need one more win to take home the championship.

Get the email today: "Hey guys, we are going to be very short players today..."

Fuck. So close, and then this. Myself, I'm suffering from the flu. I will not be a good player. I can see us losing this game, and then losing the rubber match. That's how sports and life is. You get close enough to taste it, and then they snatch it away.

It's just beer league hockey right? Who cares? Well, I care. I want to win this league. The only time I'm happy lately is when I'm on the ice or when I'm walking my dog. And there are no championships for walking your dog.


I was drinking Neocitrin yesterday, and my dog runs up and headbutts the cup. Love is a crazy thing. The hot liquid (I had literally just poured the boiling water into the mug) spills all over me, burning me, and what do I do? I check on the dog to make sure none of the water fell on her.


Tales from the office: A client brought a girl in to see me, I think to introduce us and see if we had chemistry, and I end up violently coughing throughout the encounter. I'm must be sick.

Tales from the office two: "Hi I've already done my taxes but I want to know if I can pepper you for questions for an hour on how I can do them better and what do you mean you want to bill me for this?"


I haven't really watched a lot of the NHL playoffs, but I have a feeling the Flames would have been embarrassed if they had made it in. Maybe a blessing in disguise that they missed.

Tuesday, April 10, 2018


It's weird what we get excited for. Getting up for stuff that really has no impact. But nothing has an impact. One day the sun will become engorged and this world will burn to a crisp. So, really, it isn't weird that we get excited over the meaningless. It's normal.

I play in the Jewish Hockey League in Calgary. Despite the stereotypes, there are some MoT's that can really play. I am not one of them, but whatever. It's a good time, and I enjoy it. My skillz have improved tremendously since I've been playing. Four or five years now.

I think this is the third year we have used a team format. The first couple of years it was a pick up league. So with the team format comes playoffs.

The first year we had playoffs my team didn't make it out of the first round. The second year we made it to the finals, and lost. I make it to the finals and lose in lots of the rec league sports I play. You start to really get sick of being second place.

This year, I'm on a good team and we might be able to win the whole damn thing. That's the goal, at least. We are currently up 1 to zip in the first round. Best out of three. Need one more win to go to the finals.

It's weird what we get excited for. I deleted the pussy apps from my phone, but I don't think I deleted deleted them. I still get emails about 'so and so is into you!', so I must still have a profile out there. I used to get really excited to get those emails, but now, not so much. Part of it is actually meeting some of the girls who use those apps. Part of it is work. And then the other part of it is having other shit to get excited about. I went to sportscheck and bought laces for my skates. Couple bucks. I was more excited for that than anything I have purchased recently, save the red leather jacket. You'd think I would have yawned through the lace purchase and been excited about the female interest, but no, it was the other way around.

Sports is weird like that, and that's why I like sports. The competition is what is good. I use to be a sports nut when I was younger, and by that I mean I was really interested in the professional league. Now, not so much. I watch them still, but I like watching them to learn moves, to learn the thinking behind certain plays, if that makes sense. Now I watch to appreciate. Cheering for the laundry is still fun, but I don't get into as much as I used to.

Anyway, I have a game tonight and I'm sitting on hold so I'm writing to bleed off some of the nervous energy. If I don't win tonight my mood will be sour for a month, even if we end up winning the series. Shit is weird but it isn't.

Monday, April 9, 2018

E Thots

Tax time starts March. At the start of March I deleted Tinder and Bumble and whatever the fuck else I was on. I have a habit of chasing pussy, and the internet brings pussy to you with these apps. So I'm on these apps when I should be doing other shit, like working. So I deleted them.

There is a bit of withdrawal because instead of swiping for pussy you start thinking about all the pussy you are missing out on by not swiping, which isn't productive either. And when you work longer hours than you usually do you get tired so you don't get out as much. So you really think about not swiping for pussy.

But you get over it, and you still want pussy, so I've been forcing myself to go out even when I am tired. Nothing cool. No bars or clubs. I should but I just haven't felt into it. So like, the mall, the grocery store, little lunch places, smoke pits, dog parks, places like that. And I've been approaching. That's like half the battle. Just going up and striking up a conversation.

Not giving a fuck is another big chunk of the battle. Chicks can tell if you try, and if you try it must mean you either like them, or you aren't getting pussy. Chicks hate guys who like them ("who could like me? He must be weird") and they hate guys who aren't already fucking ("If he isn't fucking he must be weird"), so you gotta act like you could care less. Which is fine because I can actually do that because my perspective on life is kinda in that wheelhouse anyways. So I've been getting blowed out most of the time because I'm having fun teasing these girls and I take it too far. Grenading, if you will. But sometimes the chick is into it and I get a number.

Chicks on Tinder are vapid airheads. Even the educated ones I bagged...you'd never know it. They all act the same. And if they are a little cute they have an army of guys sending them messages all day every day. You compete with the chemical rush they get when their phone makes a sound. And because you don't even need to be that cute to have an army of thirsty guys pining for you, all the girls have an entitled attitude. Whatever, you are just trying to fuck and not really interested in anything more so you put up with it. But you notice and it gets to you. Having to deal with a woman who lives in fantasy world, I mean.

So I figured since I deleted the app I would get away from that. I'd meet normal girls and we could act normal and go about courtship in a normal way. Except what the hell is normal? Normal is freakish, it doesn't exist anymore. If it ever did.

What am I even getting at with this post? Well, I've met two girls in the last two weeks who have an army of instagram followers. Like, tens of thousands. I'm not super familiar with IG, I have it on my phone and I use it to scout some of these chicks, but I don't really use it myself. But I mean, I met an iraqi girl at the park the other day and she had 13,000 followers. What? The girl I just met at lunch had 19K followers. What the fuck?

So I deleted the internet pussy apps and then all the girls I have met since are E-Thots anyways. Can't win for losing.

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

You Think You Have It Bad

I hate tax time. I hate it. Kills my soul.

I'm sitting on hold with CRA. They keep you on hold because 1) they hate fucking tax time too and 2) they want everyone to use the online shit so you stop fucking calling. Thing is the online portal doesn't have all the information and 'tools' that a phone call has. Sometimes you have to call. And they hate that, so they make you wait. And wait you do.

The music changes. The hold music, I mean. Sometimes it is classical and sometimes it is modern. Today it is modern, I think. Like elevator music version of pop 40. I don't listen to new music unless I take a young girl out and then have to. I just don't like it. Get off my lawn, and all that.

Seriously though, rap today is dudes talking about how they got the sadz. What is that shit? Rap used to be about fucking a basketball players girl and then robbing him when he got home.

Anyways, I'm sitting on hold, and I hate my work. So I use it as a break. I log onto twitter but I don't see anything there that is holding my interest. Favourite a few thots and move on. I log on to kijiji, and because I miss that stupid fucking girl, I click around on community. She lied about being into volunteering (she went once and made it out like she was Momma Terresa), so I notice the volunteering link. Clients tell me it's a good place to meet women. So I click.

I'm expecting to see wanted ads or something. Please help with the puppy parade, or help out at a soup kitchen, or whatever it is people do when they volunteer. I guess I was expecting normal. You and I have been around long enough to know that no one is fucking normal, not anymore. What was I thinking?

Instead of 'help out at the old folks home' I see "female models needed". Fuck, why didn't I think of that? I don't click because I'm mad I didn't think the scam. I keep scrolling, which was a mistake.

"I have a large family and I just lost my job and I need someone to pay for dogfood."

"My Mom is dying from cancer and she's stuck without running water or heat at a farm in the middle of nowhere and can someone send money?"

"My daughter and I are really hungry. We have nothing, and nothing to eat. Please, can someone help us?" (I have a soft heart. I assume these are all scams, but that one fucking got me)

"Can anybody help? I'm a single mom with three kids and no job and easter is coming up..."

"Single father of seven needs help..."

"I'm a newly divorced mom of three, can anybody pay for my vacation?"

"Volunteer needed to pack my stuff as I am moving" - What? What is wrong with people?

"My diabetic dog is going to die please send money"

"Wanted: Free furniture"

I get to the third page of this stuff. And then I see it.

"Volunteer to help children in India"
"Volunteer to build houses in Nepal"
"Volunteer to teach english in Ghana"
 "Volunteer to _____ in _______"

God...Is it bad that that looks so appealing?

Click to the next page. "Old man willing to spend time with young women and teach them to drive"

Monday, April 2, 2018


The girl I like, well the girl I get the closest to liking, hates me.

Except that's not what it is. If she hated me I could find colour in that. If she hates me, she loves me. There would be something there, I could work with that. A man can survive that and turn it around. There are stories about people who love and hate and love again. I've seen it with the clients. Hate equals hope. And that's the problem. She doesn't hate me.

She doesn't even remember I exist. That's what kills a man.

I creep her media sometimes. She is back with her LTR. Fine. She's probably bored as fuck and running around on him again. That's how she met me, after all. But I'm pissed she doesn't even ask me if I want to hang out. I don't know if I would, but I just want to be asked.

The only reason I care is because she doesn't. What a mind worm.

I have a buddy who makes fun of me for being in love with this woman, but I'm not. I know what love is. But this is worse. I'm pining for the attention of a woman because she has withdrawn it, and I'm never getting it back. Does that make sense? Her withdrawal is what has be enticed. I didn't like her this much when she was with me.

Don't text her, don't call her, delete her from your phone. And I don't text her, and I don't call her, but I can't delete her from my phone. That would be permanent. I'd have to accept my failure then. I never fail with girls, I always kick them off. Maybe that's it.

Got me singing the Blues though.

Saturday, March 24, 2018

Poor Girl

I got her number at the dog park. I go everyday. I leave my dog at my parents when I go to work, and pick her up after I get off. And then we head to the park. I have two I usually go to. They are situated on either side of the valley. Sandy Beach and 15A. Rich people parks. Women are there, wives of rich men, accomplished in their own right. They don't marry down, you know? Sometimes there is a nanny there. You're cute, but I have a boyfriend.

Of the two, there are more normal people at 15A. Last time I was at Sandy Beach there was a rich man there talking about how the rich school he sent his daughter too was accusing him of touching his daughter. That's rich, I thought. At 15A I've seen people break up or talk about how they hate their boss or some other mundane thing. Normal.

My dog is a GSP. She's black and speckled. She should be brown. She's a mix of a GSP and a Musterlander. She's a mutt. Like me. I only ever get mutts. She's the first dog I didn't get from a rescue, and sometimes I feel bad about it. When I went to the pound all they had were pitbulls, and a dog that looked like my dead one. When I saw it I cried. There was a big rough biker looking guy there and he put his arm around me and said it would be ok. No homo.

She's very independent at the park. She runs around and goes 100 yards away from me and all the way back. She plays with all the dogs and tries to climb trees to get to birds. She pulls sticks off of trees and runs around and plays. She is joy personified. I like watching her at the park.

Is she field trained? I turn to look and I'm surprised. A cute face is asking me. She's wearing a white toque and she has big black prescription glasses on. She has brown skin, not like an arab or sri lanka though, like it's tanned. But it's not a tan. Maybe she's Mexican. She's shorter than me, and her eyes shine with a sweetness. Fuck me. Just my type. I don't even look at her body other than a quick check to see if she's fat. I can't tell, she is wearing a coat. She isn't obese though, and might even be skinny. I'm in trouble.

No. Just train her myself, and I never train her. She's a natural, you know? Like me. I say that with a smile. Back off, man. If you like them they don't like you. So I stop smiling and keep walking. She keeps walking too. Fuck.

I talk to her. Can use the practice. Ric Flair said he still flirts and he's fucked ten thousand of them. If he goes through the motions so should I. I ask her about her dog. She asks about mine. Where'd I get her? Pure bred? Mutts are better, anyways. Maybe she is a mutt, like me.

Thursday, March 22, 2018

Flames Suck

This girl. At this point it's pathetic. But she has my brain wormed. And it's not like I'm not seeing other girls. And it isn't like I'm also not seeing other girls. You know what I mean? But whatever. I'm sick of the topic. Let me write something about the Flames that you already know.

They suck.

That's it. No analysis. No stats or anything fancy. I'm a season ticket holder. I have to go sit in my shitty seats and watch this shitty team and drink in the shitty Dome atmosphere, potentially, 41 times a year. I think I went to 20 games, max, this year. It's probably lower. Fuck this shit. Losing sucks.

When you lose more games at home than you win, what is the fucking point of the ticket? I'm not going to not renew, but holy shit did this season kill something in my fandom. Hyping this team like it was something special and then having them basically quit on the season for large portions of it...it's not good. It's not cute. It's fucking bullshit, is what it is.

Obviously the coaching staff should get fired. People who try to fiddle with that should be ridiculed harshly. Who gives a fuck. The team, pretending they were in must win games, has not shown up to play. That's them not giving a fuck about the coach. They don't give a fuck about the coach because the coach doesn't publicly embarrass them. It's as simple as that. Don't you people fucking get it?

The players are shit, too. The C should be stripped off of Gio's sweater. The only guy who comes off as giving a shit is the very young Mr. Tkachuk, or however you spell that kids name. Good player. One of the only likeable players on the team, from a fan perspective. Give him the C. Mr. John Hockey also has some passion. Put an A on his sweater if he doesn't already have one. The other A can go to Gio. Anyone but Brouwer. Fuck these guys.

And how do you fix Brouwer? I'd play him with 13. That way you will at least get some production out of him. Who else could you stick him with that could lift him up? Monahan (is that how you spell his name? I don't even remember he is so invisible)? Yeah fucking right. 23 should be split from 13 anyways. If the kid is a player, let him play on his own. I'd trade him. There, I said it.

13+39. 23+19. 11+whatever number frolik is. 77+93. That's how I'd make the lines. Then you slot the remaining guys into the remaining slots. 13+39 might not work because they don't have a centre. Sign Tavares.

They should buy 39 out anyways. That's the real truth. Is this team committed to winning or not? If it was committed to winning they would gas the coaching staff, sign a coach with a name, and buyout Brouwer. Will they do that? Is anybody holding their breath?

The defence sucks. 27 has grown on me, I'd keep him. I like 5. Brodie and Hamonic and the rest of them are all hot garbage. I keep hearing we have a prosect or two on the farm that plays D. Why not trade Brodie and Hamonic (Harmonic? What is his fucking name? Travis?) and play these kid prospects. Free up cap space for Tavares. Or Kane. Or Karlsson. That's what I'd do.

In short, this team is fucked. But it's salvageable. It needs a new wardrobe though. Badly.

And fire the in game entertainment people. This shit has been boring and stale for the four years I have owned  season tickets.  

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Booty and at Tax Time?

Fuck. You ever have a piece of ass you just can't forget? Like, you dream about it? You close your eyes and it floats into your consciousness? Every dip and wrinkle or whatever it had? I got it bad, a real bad case of the booty dreams. It's all I think about, and I have other stuff to think about.

It drives me crazy. And at tax time, too. Tax time is the worst. You have other, normal shit you have to get done, the corporate tax shit, and then I have an influx of about 600 personal tax clients, and they all bug you for this or that and you can't tell them it isn't important, you have to take it all very seriously. They drop off all their shit and then call and call and call to get you to do it and then you file and then they tell you they had other shit to drop off why did you file and you just want to choke them but you can't. And then you close your eyes and you see the booty.

God, I can still smell the girls hair. Fucking torture. You always fall for the ones who want nothing to do with you when they turn on you. That's like God's favourite prank. And the real truth is the only reason you want the girl isn't because of love or any of that shit. Not even for the booty, well, not entirely. No, you want the girl because she doesn't want you. You only want the girl because she's back fucking her long term boyfriend. If she was fucking you, you wouldn't want her anymore. Well, the last part is what I tell myself. I'd probably be fine with her if she was still fucking me. Although I'm sure I'd find another reason to complain.

Tax time drives you crazy. Girls drive you crazy. You are suppose to be Buddha and detach, I know. You aren't suppose to get your happiness from work or from girls. It's good advice if you can work the trick. I fake it like I'm like that to the outside world. Myself, I can't lie to myself, not very well.

I don't even miss her. I miss choking her and spitting in her mouth and the look on her face when I'd shove my cock in her. I miss pulling her hair and how she tastes and I miss leaving hand prints in her ass. But I don't miss her. She was annoying. Why'd she have to be cute?

And at tax time, too. Crazy. 

Friday, March 16, 2018

Dumb Move

The dumbest thing I did this month was kill off my stable of hoes. I did it because it's tax season and I get so exhausted during the two months. Hoes are exhausting as it is and I figured I shouldn't be chasing tail and all that. Only so much energy to go around.

I didn't cut off all my hoes, I kept a few, but I consciously let the majority of plates I was spinning fall. What a fucking mistake.

Girls want a guy who is fucking 100 girls already. They do. The secrets to getting a woman to like you are to act like you don't like them*, and to be fucking a bunch already**. I think they can smell when you are. They have some mechanism. Because as soon as I let the hoe stable out of the barn, the hoes I kept had an attitude change on me.

I had a good thing going with this one girl where I'd show up once a week and bang. She now all of a sudden wanted to be my girlfriend. During tax season? Fuck that shit. So she got very mad and hasn't communicated with me for a couple of days now. The other girl I had pulled similar shit. "Working late on the office" became "you are cheating on me." and I smelled a shit test so I said "I can't be cheating on you because we aren't dating." Even that was giving the shit test too much merit, I should have just said "obviously." but I didn't. Same thing. She hasn't sent me any nudes in about a week. Terrible.

Now I'm faced with having to rebuild my prospects when my social energy is very low. I know you are supposed to fake it but even the thought of having to perform is draining my chi right now. Having a few chicks I could use to relieve stress at the end of the week was nice. Oh well. (I got rid of the dating apps so I am forced to actually leave the house for pussy. I am not going back. So far.)

Moral of the story is to spin as many plates as you possibly can. 

* I once heard it formulated as: Women like things that don't like them back. That's why they like cats. Be like a cat.

** You saw that story about the chick who went crazy when she thought her man was fooling around on her? That's the type of passion having another chick, or even the threat of having another chick, aroused in women. They love it.

Saturday, March 10, 2018


It's been months. Months. But I finally did it. I came. I was fucking a chick and there was something about her, and I cracked. Busted the nut. Finally. I'm not broken.

You know what it was? The girls I was fucking were too nice. They loved the shit I would do to them because they were used to fucking nice guys. But they didn't know how to participate, because they were used to this nice shit. So I would go nuts and they would love it but they couldn't match my energy. I was giving it and they were taking it. But I need to get the energy back, too. I'm more than just a gigolo, or however the song goes.

This chick...she knew how to act. Which is terrible. A chick like that...they will steal your soul. A buddy of mine once told me you can't sleep with a chick like that more than a couple of times because they will hook you, you will get addicted. So I might have to blow her off, because she can blow me off. Ironic?

But damn. Finally. Finally. I thought I was done for. 

Thursday, March 8, 2018

Deleted Dating Apps, Two Weeks In

Oh lawd.

I had become a bit of a whore and it was not making me any happier. I had become a whore because I actually fell for a girl, like an idiot. When you fall for a pretty girl they can smell it. It disgusts them. They then let you get just comfortable enough so that when they rip your heart out the wound isn't able to clot. It bleeds and bleeds and bleeds and you eventually get sick of it and you have to seek out some gauze. My gauze was new, strange women.

So I downloaded these STD apps, tinder, bumble, even match, and started 'mingling'. It was easier to use these things than to actually go out. These things can be brutal on you. I suspect that there are a few guys who get most of the matches, while the rest of us chumps sit around and wonder if the thing is broken. I got about a match a week, and I thought that was really good. To be honest, I have (had?) a fairly high conversion rate. Over 50%. I think that's ok.

The girl I still miss (god, how pathetic, she's probably forgotten my name, you know?) killed my spirit in November. I had three dates that week, I was so pissed off with her. I converted one of em, a chick from Ghana. December I had another chick, some nondescript white girl, a single mother. I never called her again. January I had two. The infamous new years eve girl, and yet another nondescript white single mom. She hadn't been treated rough before. She liked getting choked (don't they all?). She still texts me every once in a while. February was an ok month. I got with my first Asian girl. She had never been tied up before. I was very rough with her, left bruises on her and everything. I though she would never talk to me again but she wont leave me alone. I see her once a week. I also got with a 22 year old white girl. She was weird. She had told me she was french and had armpit hair. She was not french, and she did not have armpit hair. 22 year old pussy is great, especially when you get older. But her not being able to moan things in french really disappointed me. I made her squirt though. What a mistake that is. If you make a woman squirt they don't stop texting you. I should have made Sri Lanka squirt.

But trying to forget a girl by using other girls wasn't making me happy. It did make me forget about the other girl, a week at a time, but she was always lurking in the periphery. A buddy of mine gave me a talking to, and I took his words to heart. He told me to get off the dating apps, to get girls off my mind period, and take some time for myself. I thought the advice was solid, so I took it. I deleted the dating apps off my phone, cold turkey.

Is it working DB? No, dear reader, it is not working. I miss the girl I miss more than I did when I was whoring. I think at this point I don't miss her so much as have it as a habit to miss her. Having the Asian girl is nice, but she want's to be more than a weekly lay and so that's going to explode at some point. The best part of deleting the apps is it makes you go out in real life to meet women. I got a girls number at the casino, which was nice. I got another girls number standing in line at a deli. But for those two numbers I probably stuck out 20 times. My conversion rate is far lower than 50%. That's normal though, I think.

It's tax season now. Hopefully that can keep my mind occupied. 

Thursday, January 25, 2018

I Can't Cum. WTF?

Howdy stanger. Been awhile.

I have a problem. It's not a fun problem, so I don't really want to talk about it with people I know. So I figured I'd share it with the internet. Nobody reads this blog anymore anyways. Safe space.

I can't cum. Well, I can, but not when I'm fucking a girl. It's...disconcerting, to say the least.

I've had this problem since at least the summer. And I don't know why. It's really messing me up though. Sex is fun and all that, but without a 'payoff', so to speak, I'm starting to just view it as a (pleasant) cardio exercise. And who likes cardio? I don't.

I noticed the problem when I met a girl in the summer. If you follow my twitter you may know about her. She was a Sri Lankan. Hot chick. Hourglass figure. Tits and ass. Curves. Usually I go for skinny heroin addict looking girls, so this was a new type for me. I quite liked it.

And she could fuck. Last year I got into 'pick up' and 'red pill' stuff, which kinda boils down to 'be confident and dominant'. And boy did she respond to that shit. I wonder if anybody had treated her like that before. I think she was used to guys walking on egg shells. I didn't, I just took her. Didn't even ask. And she loved it, I think, because her response...it was good. Didn't say anything when I took the rope out to tie her up. Loved the handcuffs. Enjoyed fucking in fake-risque places (like I'd open my blinds up and fuck her on my living room couch. She liked the thrill of 'someone might see us'). She was kinda a freak, and I liked it. That's the reason I still miss her. She was boring otherwise.

But the point: For three months, three or four times a week, I was dominating this hot girl, she was basically letting me do whatever I wanted to her body, and you know how many times I came? Once. One time. One freaking time. And that was from her giving me a handjob, where I had to grab her hand and guide her.

One time. What the hell is wrong with me?

After she split, I've gone on a bit of a hoe parade. She left in November, and I've had some girls since. Same thing. Can't cum. Now, not all of those girls were as good in bed, they wouldn't let me choke and bite and spit in their faces, which is fine but if bad guy fucking isn't doing it for me then you can imagine my boredom with nice guy fucking. And some of the girls just weren't hot. If you follow my twitter you may have heard my news year story, for instance (that's a good one, actually). But a hot wet hole is a hot wet hole. I just can't cum.

Now the current girl I'm running with is an Asian girl. She's cute enough but I'm not animal attracted to her. Still, she's a freak. She's freakier than the Sri Lankan. I literally left bruises on her, and she loved it. Still: I can't cum for this poor girl. She has begged me to cum in her mouth and I can't do it.  Imagine that. What a fucking nightmare.

And honestly, I feel bad for these girls. Girls like making a guy cum. They do. It's like an accomplishment to them. I think it hurts their self esteem when they can't make me explode. I can see it in their eyes. I have to come up with excuses so they don't get sad. I'm nervous. I'm tired. I'm whatever. It's not you, baby, it's me.

And it could be. What I'm going to try is to go cold turkey on masturbation. That way the only way I'll be able to get some release is with a woman. That should reset my brain, I hope. Fuck, I hope.

Or it could be the women. I'm old enough I should know what I want, but maybe I don't. Or maybe it's the way I'm having sex. I mean, I'm having sex with girls who I barely know. There is no emotional attachment. Maybe that's what I need. But that wouldn't explain why I couldn't cum in the Sri Lankan. Or maybe it does. Maybe I didn't have any attachment to her beyond sex.

I really don't know. I'm grasping at straws. I just know the inability to bust a nut with a girl is driving me crazy, and I had to get it off my chest.