TRIPLE THE TROUBLE
Latest Houston trip. Blondie Pop wanted to see us. I said let’s do the first night instead of the second because I was beat last time and my mood wasn’t great. Oh, right, but first, The Texan had just spent two nights with the Millennial. They went to a football with a bunch of the guys. Normally, I would have gone but she’s never been to an NFL game so I gave it to her. And like clockwork, she was zero fun. Everyone on the bus was asking, “where’s Shannon?” She refused to go to the strip club after the game (walking distance from the hotel). I mean, I get it, she’s a dancer and he’s obnoxious, but damn, girl, buck up, this isn’t about you! Anyway, back to Houston. Blondie Pop met us at the club. She partied this time around which was more fun than our last hang. We drank and got silly at the hotel. Her spent the majority of the time fucking her. I was psyched. He didn’t come until after she left. She thought he had while they did the deed—just like last time—but he didn’t, he’s just dramatic. I noticed he was thickly applying pressure for her to “come”. Like an angry mission. His ego needed to be feed with fake orgasms. She and I exchanged loads of eye rolls throughout the night. We want him to and he wants us to, it’s a shit show. He finally came from jacking off while I cradled his balls. I passed out after. At least that’s how I remember it. The following night at dinner he shared that I said, “I’m really into this porn” and when it ended I added, “babe, start it up again.” He got up to do so. I was snoring when he came back. I have zero recollection of this but I think it’s hilarious.
Blondie Pop surprised me by saying she wanted to see us again for the second night. I guess she didn’t go to her club the following day, she needed some dough. I said sure. If it’s fun, I’m happy to share the Texan dick coaster. I made dinner reservations. The place was fancier than I expected. We all met there. He was coming from all day drinks with associates. And like so many times before: it was clear on arrival that he was dark-side drunk. The worst. Blondie Pop and I traded looks when we recognized his mood. We’ve dealt with this before. It’s a nightmare. He kept booming that he was going to take his dick out. Why is that his default? No one gives a fuck about or wants to see your dick. He was unbearable during dinner. Loud. Pummeling the sommelier that he chose the shittiest variety of such and such. Of course the guy had to stand there and take it. I wanted to murder Foghorn. I went to the ladies room and did drugs instead. We tried to get him to eat. Two bites in he silently choked on a huge piece of steak. Slow motion puked it up on his plate. I nearly lost my carpaccio. Then the fucker eats another huge piece off said plate! I was done. We had to get out of there. I flagged for the check and made him order an Uber. Thankfully, his mood improved at the hotel. Maybe he does that shit on purpose. Again, he fucked her predominately. I was getting away with murder. I think he came. Who knows. I went to sleep. Bada boom. Always good to see you, Houston.