You Snooze, You Lose

New verse on the making
Baby, you better be shaking
Spitting words like crazy
Ain’t my fault you pussied out
And now you’re just sitting behind
Your screen all strung out
Man, fuck your ass
Everything’s now in the past
So learn how to deal with that
Cuz I’m moving up fast
I remember the first time we met
Everything like a movie scene
We couldn’t keep it clean
Had so much fun, we forgot about reality
Seeing each other again and
Everything turned out so differentely
Couldn’t make a move cuz it seemed
Like you had a security guard boo
Bitch, get outta ma face and stay
On your motherfucking lane
I ain’t got no time to play any
Fucking childish games
I ain’t here to compete, because I’m the Queen, B!
And if you ain’t with me
Then, just fucking leave me in peace
You think I’m crazy because I’m a stoner
But, man, look at her
She’s talking to a comet in a corner
Now you tell me, who’s higher up in this bitch?
This chick can’t even sell anything coming out of her mouth with a single pitch
Jumping from dick to dick in your own inner circle click
Yeah, she cool
But I ain’t fucking buying it
I’ve been hiding and you keep finding me
Double tap, now all of a sudden you liking me?
Oh, but it don’t stop there
You wonder why you’re lonely and single
And it’s all because you can’t really fucking mingle
Remember how I made that dick tremble?
So sorry for you, but now this is a closed temple

HIM

I crave him like no one before
He’s like a forbidden fruit
Exactly like Adam and Eve’s
Too much to not get teased
Making me purr without even a touch
Oh god, give me him, I want him so much
This celibacy is killing me
He’s the perfect prey, and I’m truly feeling him
We are on each others destiny, I definitely believe in it
Praying every night for that dick to be mine
Oh my, everything would be so divine
White mountains on every corner of the room
Fat blunt making it look like Doom
But we already used to it because bad behaviour is what rules
He’s a bad boy, I know it
I can feel it and almost taste it
Sour vodka tonic
I can already picture it
Face down, ass up, just the way he likes to fuck
White lines down my spine
Roll that Benjimen, baby, you know how I ride
Inhale and pull my hair while I moan,
Don’t make this moment fold
Be mine, oh baby, be mine
Be mine for at least one time
Let me taste you and see how you feel like
My thighs call out your name,
Desiring for that future moment to stay
I picture it over and over in my head,
And honey, it’s time to play.

Imprisoned Mind

Do I still think about him? Oh, every day.
Every single day his memory attacks my brain, and if I don’t snap out of it, it’s like I’m falling in an endless pit swalloing me whole.
Sometimes when I’m driving, it just hits me and I start screaming from the top of my lungs to get it all out, if I don’t do so I just start sobbing uncontrollably.
I just keep remembering the good times, because that’s what we mostly had together, a good damn time.
Every heart break makes me lose a little faith for what could possibly be out there for me. I close the door on people, but most of all, I close the door on myself.
When will this be over? I don’t know…I don’t even know if I want it to be over.
I dream of him about every three weeks, dreams where I go looking after him wanting to stay with me. But he doesn’t, not even in my dreams he chooses me. He rejects me and it kills me.
The thing is that we didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. The last time I saw him, he was flipping me off with both hands walking the opposite way on puddle filled alley. The last words that I heard from him were “I can’t talk, they’ll throw me in jail” through the phone. We just stayed there for a minute listening to each others breaths.
But until this day, I wonder; Does he think of me the way I think of him? Does he remember me the way I remember him? Does he cherish the good times just like I do? Does he feel some kind of guilt? Some kind of remorse?
These are the questions that come to mind when I end up in that self-destructing turbine.
Then, forcefully, I think about the things that he did to me, the other girl, that last day, all of that just to make it go away.

Fuck Your V-Day

I woke up at seven, got up and started getting ready for work. Nothing better than having my mom telling me shit about how I don’t do anything in my life, great. That was a hellavuh good morning for me. Went crying to my room and only gave myself four minutes to do so. After that, I realized that I wasn’t crying because of the shit my mom told me just then, but because I realized it has been a year already since I move back to San Diego since I left Oregon, since I left the one that I thought was ‘it’. My mind didn’t know it, but my heart did (or subconcious, whatevs). I’m pretty sure I’m not the only once that has experienced this kind of situation.

Since elementary, I remember getting so excited for Valentine’s, just going to the store to buy candy and the most awesome V-cards there were out there to hand out to my classmates.
At first it didn’t hurt, seeing that most of my female classmates would receive anonymous letters from guys declaring their love to them, roses and fancy chocolate being delivered. It didn’t hurt because I would think to myself “Next year…”. “Next year” never happened to me. But who am I to blame? Really? Who would do that? Who would be the poor bastard to like a chubby, four-eyed girl with a slick back ponytail like me? No one. I never had a secret Valentine, or just a Valentine for what matters. Just grew up hopeless in that department. A big ass hopeless romantic.

I was bullied for my physical appearance growing up, since first grade of Elementary, all the way up through High School. From how I would pronounce my “ch”, how my glasses were so big and thick, the extra pounds on me, and not really having a style, well, pretty much for everything. Girls would talk to me behind my back and boys would laugh right in front of my face. And I really didn’t understand why, why was I the target of so many people. Fortunately that didn’t make me change the way I was, kind.
Everything that I’ve been through has made me who I am right now. Yeah, I may be read like a female version of a Don Juan, but I do have feelings. I’ve had very nice bonds with my men, and also shitty experiences/feelings with them as well. Life has taught me to be a cabrona. It has its advantages and disadvantages, and they are usually in two extreme opposite poles.

That’s how I grew up disliking Valentine’s Day. I think I’ve only celebrated Valentine’s three times, and that was because I was dating my first boyfriend (around five years ago). Nothing before that, and still, nothing after that. I could say that I could care less, but damn, it looks like it feels hella nice. *Exhale slowly* Oh well, that’s life and I can’t do anything about it. Fuck everything and everyone, especially you, Cupid! You keep freaking missing!

 

 

Chips

We met at a bar while roaches crawled up the walls
Harsh voice, a lot of noise, you just left me in awe
Had a beer together and had a couple more
Walking drunk up the street, talking about our lives

Got to the hotel and his mates were already in bed
We didn’t give a fuck, we used the restroom floor instead
Trembling legs and loss of breath

Don’t worry, I’ll be fine
I’ll be here when she leaves you behind
Won’t even tell you “I told you so”
‘Cause I’ve been there before and I know how much it hurts

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall-Who’s The Dirtiest One Of All?

It was late at night, I already ran out of coke and my friends were planning on getting some more and go to another friends place to keep on partying but I decided to stay.
Went to my favorite bar in downtown Tijuana, the bar that never closes, and ordered some 40’s of Tecate Roja with a friend that I thought was going to be alone, not accompanied with her boring ex-boyfriend. So, ofcourse, I was the only one getting drunk, whoopy…
Then, finally, things got interesting when this guy comes in and joins the opposite end of the table. Hubba! Hubba! I see him, and notice him looking back at me as well.

I knew it. I wanted him. I was going to have him. #feelingdetermined

We both knew who we were but he has, or was, been in the longest ass relationship ever with a girl that has the bitch face resting syndrome (she’s actually very pretty and has huge tits), but Ms. Steal Your Man saw him without his bodyguard and only with male friends that looked that were ready to have a great time, and so was I.
Like about a 40 oz later, he and his crew got a booth and about half an hour after, the booth right next to his was free with my name written all over it.
My friend, my very fun friend, decided to leave with her ex, even when I clearly stayed and passed on good blow because she wanted to have a “drunken” night #myballs. So before she left, I asked her if she could quickly ask for his name and introduce me to him, but she got “nervous” #goddamn. **Ps. That’s the easiest way to meet someone when a couple of drinks are in your system, but she couldn’t even do that …**

A friend that we, the guy and I, have in common sat with me and we were just remembering the good ol’ days. I asked him what was up with his buddy and ‘assured’ me that he was still dating his girl, but I decided not to believe in that. Trust me, I wasn’t the only one after him. Before I made my move, I saw how two girls failed. The second girl didn’t take the hint and was just annoying the fuck out of him, so I decided to play hero and save him #ifyouknowhwatImean. That’s when I just turned around and made a “come over” sign with my hand, and he did. That was it (Thank god for my psychology classes and body language reading abilities).
He sat on my left side and our buddy was on my right. While we were laughing and ordering more drinks, he was touching my leg up and down and squeezing my ass. That’s when I thought “Hu, the girl ain’t on the picture anymore eh’?”, because we were right next to his homies, which are his gilfriend’s friends too, so I just went with it.

About an hour later we were leaving that joint, I opened the door and the sun was blinding our eyes, who know’s what time it was.
We arrived, went into my crib and sat in different couches of my living room. I went quickly to my bedroom to get my water pipe and weed. Started lighting it up, offered him some but he declined. I smoked a little more, placed everything aside and locked him down, with my legs ofcourse. Damn, things got hot very quick. He didn’t mind that I was on my period #real #best (Don’t worry, it was my first day, so no murder scene going on).

Not even kidding, we fucked in the couch, we fucked in the dining room against a full sized mirror, also fucked in the kitchen against the refrigerator, fucked in the restroom against that mirror, left him in the shower, went to my other shower to rinse and clean everything and joined him again; we fucked standing up with the water running over us, and also laying down on the tub. We finally took the situation to my bedroom; we fucked standing against my mirror, again, and on my bed. He fucked me so good, as if he hadn’t fucked in years.
That rough, hair pulling, face slapping, ass spanking, name calling, shoulder biting, raw, hella good kind of sex #mykindofsex. Damn, he was good. I came multiple times and so did he. We both passed out, well, he did, I was only able to rest my eyes for like an hour before I had to get up and take care of my babies (pets). He woke up around 7:00 pm, I laid right next to him and asked him for his phone so I could delete all the porn videos that we made earlier that day #lol.
When we were saying our goodbyes he said “We’ll see each other soon, maybe sooner than we think”, in my mind I was like “Fuck yeah, baby”.

Afterwards, I just stayed at home, ate pizza and watched movies. The next morning I had to trace my steps and clean up the whole house. Our hand prints were on all the mirrors throughout the place (If you’ve ever been, you’ve seen how many I have…plenty!) It was like going back to memory lane, remembering what happened in every mirror that we stopped (fucked) by. If only mirrors could speak.

Hit and Quit

There are definitely situations where you just have to apply the “hit and quit” motto. Something that I should’ve kept letting be.

I was swiping, mostly left, on Tinder when I bumped into an old lover of mine. We met in Tecate, BC in a music/bike event about three years ago. I thought he was cute as fuck, even with his both upper front teeth chipped. We started chatting and made plans to go see Afroman play at The Holding Company (cool joint, nice hippies). I got there, and he was accompanied with two friends on the front patio.
I finished my cigarette before going in, passed security and went up to him and gave him a big hug. The last time we saw each other was about three years ago. He looked exactly the same, definitely older, but the same. We had a couple of beers together at the venue, danced and sang away along with Afroman. Joints were being passed out among the crowd, everyone was feeling it and having a great time.
Right after the show, that’s when everything started going down hill; believe me, it became a pretty steep one really darn quick. We started walking towards my car, when he decided to ride his skateboard and do some sharp tuns along the sidewalk. He almost ended up bursting a window from a shop, made a total fool of himself…I was so embarrassed because there were a lot of people out there…I just kept walking.
We got to his place, had some more beers, talked, smoked wax and fucked. I was having a good time, finally,  until after making out, his stomach decided to return everything that he put in…EVERY-FUCKING-THING. I passed out, just let him and his situation alone.
Next morning I woke up early, as usual. Sneaked out of the bed, grabbed my clothes and went to the restroom and changed clothes. Went back to get my vans and, for my surprise, one was way heavier than the other…Yup, just exactly what you’re imagining…it was covered and filled with puke. I don’t know what the fuck he ate the night before, but it looked like a big freaking rotten cake inside. I didn’t know whether to throw them away , clean them or kill him. Ended up going with the second choice and almost puked myself during the process.
Went back to the restroom and rinsed them, shit wouldn’t stop coming out from there. It was so gross! Like, for real, who pukes into a shoe? At this point I don’t even know if he did it on purpose, because he is kind of a weirdo..
After “dealing” with that mess, I grabbed all of my belongings and poked his arm very lightly to say goodbye; didn’t actually want to say goodbye, just thought that way I could say I tried.
As soon as I walked out the door, I ran the fuck out of there! OMG! Dude! Never again!
I immediately contacted my main dick, drove as fast as I could to my currently number one guy. On my way there, I was just thinking how much I regretted meeting up with him. Like, why did I do it, you know? I just shouldn’t have even gotten in contact with him on the first place. Should’ve just let it be.
Lesson learned though, the stinky, disgusting way. If things don’t go right, if for whatever reason you stopped talking to an ex-lover, LEAVE IT THAT WAY! It wasn’t meant to be for you to keep fucking him/her, don’t waste your time. Just avoid it, okay? (Unless you’re really horny) Not even worth it!

Ps. FYI, My vans survived.