How does Sunday sound?

Dear dames and sirs,
What do you like? What is it that you love? Is it the way wet fresh onions form rings when they are sliced and separated? Is it the taste of cold tomato rounds over hot barbecue? Or the sharp thirst quenching crisp caused by a cold coca cola as you watch the bubbles rush up from the bottom of the drink to the top? What are the simple things you love? 

I am passionate about plans. Yes you had me right, I love plans. Imagine looking at life as a chess board. Fascinating already. Refreshing. It feels brainy. (sorry that was a little blonde, using the word brainy, right?) but you get what I mean. I love plans. Let's think about everything you want. Everything you want is at the top. 

At the proper top like the bubbles in a glass of cold coca cola. Every bubble in a coca cola has a plan. It wants to escape. They know their way. Their path is clear. Move up from the bottom of the glass to the top. 

I look at a glass of coca cola. Especially on a Sunday afternoon. It is calm, it is relaxed, it is fresh and is perfect for somethings. Things nice. 

I love seeing life as a chess board. Everything I want is at the top. And am a bubble at the bottom of a glass of coca cola. All I have to do is plan to get all the things I want. Move from the bottom of the glass to the top. Then I will have everything. You will have everything you want. If you plan to.

Dames and Sirs, let's meet here every Sunday. With coffee when it's warm drinking chocolate if you want, a cool mango juice if you want, even soda or a drink drink if you want. And as we sip this. As the taste of your favorite drink explodes in your mouth. Stimulating.

Let me tell you what your favorite drink does, it's taste moves slowly and floods your taste buds, in slow motion. So that it is almost a surprise when you taste it and it's temperature. It's very element reminds you why it's your favorite drink. 

Every Sunday afternoon, I will feed my productive addiction, will you? I will post something I have written.  And we will talk, we will meet, with me, with you, with her, with him, together. We will taste everyone's flavors opinions and each other, together. And it will be as awesome as your favorite drink. Don't miss out. Stop hiding. Be brave. Courage. Speak. Be heard. Your favorite drink.

Sunday afternoon, time for astoldbybobby. Sunday afternoon, time for us. Life is short. Read a blog.

When spoiling yourself is a must.

Pick Up Line!

Ladies and gentlemen, dudes and damsels, tonight we party.

So here we are, at the entrance of the perfect club. Are you ready to pick hot women? Are you ready to pick hot women ladies? Yes, you think it will be fun to see how we pick you up, yes, okay. Let's start. Shall we...

We are at the entrance, pay the tickets. Let's walk in, up the stairs watch the beach. 

Nice music, perfect crowd in the club, perfect crowd you are with, so being guy ladies, we take the lead in getting a place to seat. 

Did you know picking ladies starts on where we choose to sit? No? Yes... 

We sat there, where I had a view of most of the club. That means I could see almost everywhere and everyone, I had the best view. We sat down. I sat down.

"Bartender, black ice, a sprite a plate of fries, tons of ice cubes and a few beautiful ladies to go with that."

"Pardon?"

"black ice, a sprite a plate of fries and tons of ice cubes."

Let the night begin, the music, oh the music is great, can you feel it? It just puts you right into the mood. I feel fast just listening to it. I remember walking in, I swear I almost put a little bounce in my walk, cause of the rhythm, the beat. Beautiful. Did I say beautiful? Beautiful women. 

Gentlemen, Ladies, it all starts from where you sit. Where I sat, I had the best view of the club. My magic number was seven. That's how long it took for the bartender to bring my drink. So for that night it would be seven women. If he had taken three minutes to bring my drink, it would have been three women, if it had taken him thirty minutes, it would be thirty women. If he had taken fifty minutes, it would have been fifty women, and if a club has a fifty single pretty available women, am walking out. Halot house. Bad services. Slow services. Anyways, he had taken seven minutes, so it was seven women.

I stretched, sat comfortably. Ladies and gentlemen, be confident. Why, cause women like confidence, even though they don't know it. What is confidence ladies and gentlemen. Confidence ladies and gentlemen is slow, confidence is the speed you move your eyes scanning through the room, confidence is not the fast shifty eyes you scan your environment with, confidence is not turning your head immediately when someone calls you, confidence is taking your time, confidence is occupying space, patience, arms wide open and laughing out loudly with your head almost facing the roof occasionally, you run the world. Chill out. 
Cool, I will be sending you my bill.

So, I was on my sixth and seventh girl, and that was the third sip of ice cubes sank in a mixture of black ice and sprite. And it was delicious like the night was going to be. Did I say I had already spotted seven hot damsels? The first one was in a very beautiful black dress, she kept scanning the around for men, in spite of her being with her friends. She definately was on my list. And was she hot, that little black dress. Oh my. 
Second girl was on a table close to mine, and every time she stood up to dance, you could tell she wanted attention. Part of the list. 
The third was beautiful, but mostly her table was close to the dance floor, location location location. She was part of the list...

I had seven by the time my glass was empty. Ladies and gentlemen, I loved sitting there. I had the best view.  Out of the seven there had to be one who I would take home. Now that I had known who I wanted, the seven most beautiful women in the club. One was standing next to a guy, the guy seemed to be trying to talk to her, probably the soon-to-be-boyfriend, but she was on her phone, so probably...

Next step, ladies and gentlemen, did I tell you what confidence is? Occupying maximum space, no shifty eyes, comfortable movements. Walking like you know where you are going even when you have no idea where you are going or what the hell you are doing?  
Now get some petrol, get a matchbox, lets burn all the magazines that talk about confidence being walking up to a random women, saying hi to her and then starting a conversation with her. Are you ready with your match sticks, are you burning the magazines? Good.

Ladies and gentlemen, first of all, clubs are noisy, yes? So please tell me why magazines ask you to walk to some random woman and try to find out what their favourite color is? Second of all, she is at her bloody table, with her pals, (if she is not, red flag, might be a hooker or worse...) 

I don't know if it's yourself you don't love, but I know am not the kind of guy who would walk to the table of the seven women I had checked out and say hi. This is a club, if a woman walked to my table, where my friends were, and I didn't think she was my type, I would blow her off in such public style, she would never club again. And trust me, my pals will be totally thrilled. Why would I walk to a table filled with strangers? Why would you? Are you a creep? Come on, we are here to have fun, not hurt yourself! 

Its a free world though, so do whatever. As you please...

I would laugh a little louder, almost laugh with my hands when she is looking my way, so that she thinks am a fun person. And I would spread a gaze straight at her and smile. Watch her response. Do it again, watch her response. Get her attention. Attention seized? Attention seized. 

Ladies and gentlemen next step, pour myself another drink. Time to take a walk, walking slowly like confidence walks. But not too slow to look like a grandpa, know their stamina, the v word, not virgin like Viagra. As slow as sails as flaccid as snails. You will know and feel how confident walks when you walk like confidence walks.

Accidentally, as I walk past her table, I will definately bump into her accidentally. Apologize thoroughly, watching her reaction. 

And I will walk away, slowly. Back to my table. We are here to have a good time, let's have a good time, how about a toast. Bottles and glasses up friends. Let's toast, toast to what? Getting laid.

If the damsel I bumped into stands up, heads to the washroom, or dance floor, more like an excuse to be alone, accessible, approachable. I interject. Wassups are exchanged. 
I have a sexy mind? No. Yes? Okay... If she doesn't get up, guess what, she might not be able to get it up, she might want, but she doesn't want to get, and that's not the kind of girl you want to take home. The kind that just lies there. Don't you want a damsel who takes matters into her own hands? That stands up, that makes things stand up. And not just lie there. We are here to have fun. Sip a drink and let the lying there girls lie, onto the next one.

Damsel  close to the dance floor, a gaze, eye contact, a little laughter, let her notice you, pick one of your friends on your table, head to the dance floor with your drink and your friend. Leave drink on her table. Smile at her, watch her response. If she wants, bum! If she doesn't... Life is short. Onto the next five. They were seven right?

I was at a club where they served sea food if you asked. So, having napkins on the table was usual. Elegance. Grab a pen, write my page address, yes, the link to this blog post. Drop the napkin on her table and get me more viewers. Sometime the music will get quiet, she will sit down. The moment she sees the title to this post. She will... No? Yes? I should stop marketing. Come on. What do you want to do? Leave your number instead. That feels a little desperate. Have some swag, and while you are it, get me another viewer. Touch down? Thanks. 

Time to go to the next one, there is always a friend of a friend who is with hot friends need I say how easy this is? No? Yes? No.

Ladies and gentlemen, I sat there. Got up, put my drink in the air. Poured my drink on my self a little bit. Shouted. Screamed, a manly one. Sang along to a track or two. Watched that hot girl do a bend over on the pole. Watched that girl bringing her ass close to me.

Held a couple of girls waists. Got hit on by a couple of girls? Or was it in my head? Who cares. I choose to believe they are wet for me. They were desperate for me. They wanted me there and then. It makes me feel nice to think that. I was out. To have fun. To feel nice. I let myself feel nice. I believed. 

I got hit on by a couple of girls, who were a bit to plain though doable. If they went out of there way to try to have me, i would let them. But on my part, i wouldn't bother. No effort. Some guy who acted so girlishly looked at me, I still have that bad taste in my mouth. Dammit, stop looking at me that way!

And yes, am the guy who texts in clubs, at times. Update my status, checks my email, tweets. And yawn when I want to. Am there to have fun. Let me be real with myself. A toast to that. Cling cling, glasses, bottles and ice cubes meet. Cling cling. Music rings beautifully in the background.

Cring cring cring. Goes my phone. A text message. At freaking three in the morning. From who? Someone I dont know, only seen photos of, did I tell you my blog expanded the radius to my social circle. She was a fan, she had liked my page and referred it to like fifty of her friends. That's how we met.

She was at a club close by. It was three in the morning. So she was drunk and straight forward. She admitted she was high and horny. And she was with her three friends.

She must feel comfortable, she knows how I think. She had been here right? Reading, right? So it was easy for her. But for me, she knows me, I don't know her... I ignored.

Then looked around, the whole effort I would have to put... I looked at my phone... Am drank and horny... I looked at the dance floor, I looked at my phone, I looked at the dance floor, I looked at my phone. I took a sip of what was in my glass. Looked at my pals, jumping and dancing, drinking and some lying on the table trying to hydrate with water. I looked at my phone. It had been ten minutes since that text.

So, three? She was with three of her friends? No? Yes! One blacked out during the texting. Two remaining. They were on there way. I was nervous.

I looked at the club, the only girl left, was white. And by that time most girls were. And the complications of her expecting I have a car in the parking lot. I didn't know whether she was a local, or a foreigner. And you know foreigners, scary lot. Freaky things right? Haven't you seen the bumper stickers in hotel loos lately, something something sex trade Kenya... But welcome tourist... Something something child... But welcome tourist.

Just walk in. I texted her. But then I started to wonder whether they would be let in. Were they that cool? 

So I snaked. My friends didn't notice me walk out. To the parking lot. 

Screamed out her name when I saw two women walking tfrom the gate. Why did I scream her name?cause I was a little high. Or is it confidence? Screaming in public? Kind of makes you feel like you don't care what anyone tells you right?

Oh oh. Ladies were hot.

Cab.

She told me they were flexible. Both of them were flexible, oh that would be so useful, you don't even know. Besides, it was almost last call, closing time at the club. But mostly, do the math, I didn't want going to pay entrance fees again, drinks again. I was almost tired anyways and mainly.

Cab.

So they were lesbians.

"...by the way, I have never met Bobby, this the first time we are meeting."

And all I was thinking about was what the cab guy was thinking of me.

I stopped thinking and wondering when she conveniently let her arm lie between my leg. Not lying there to do anything in particular. Just to tease me. She looked like she would do more, but we were going home. Besides, these were strangers. Who cared. I do what I wanted to do. And I didn't  feel like starting the business in the cab. Did what I wanted. I didn't do anything.

I gave her girlfriend my head phones. A little Drake. It was useful cause then I wouldn't have to have a conversation with two women. Did I mention it was past four in the morning.

Opened my door. They got in. 

Poured a drink or two. I locked the door. Paranoid they might leave with my house as I slept or drug me. Sent my buddy a message, with the phone number of the chic I was with.

Can you imagine I entertained them for seconds, left them in the sitting room. Then went to sleep. But she came and fell on me in bed. She didn't let me undress her. She didn't let me open her legs. She didn't talk. She let her hips talk. She bent over. I slid her clothes to the side. Fetched rubber. Slid it in. Banged her senselessly. Senselessly.

It was a careless bang. A little wilder than usual. Cause firstly, stranger. So I didn't care how she perceived me. I pressed her back a little harder. 

I held her shoulder and pulled it to myself a little more carelessly. I wasn't afraid to use all my might.

One hand on her shoulder, the other on her ass. Pull her back with her shoulder, push her away with her ass. Sometimes I exchanged. Pulled her with a pinch on her ass cheek. Then push her with her shoulder. She was tasty. Right there I loved my blog.

It didn't end in an orgasm, but trust me I did whatever I wanted to do to her more than what I did with her. Note the difference? 

We were at it again. I took a video of them making out. And doing other things. I dropped the camera twice, it's not easy to take a video of such happenings, I tell you. Its not easy. We didn't do it together the three of us. I just had one of them.

I came that night. I wasn't robbed or stabbed. They were actually very decent ladies. They made themselves breakfast. Milk and coco pop cereals. I made them eggs for breakfast. I felt foolish for pocketing my keys. But it's better to be safe than sorry. 
What if I  left them at my door? She had really big boobs. And gave really good head. And I was careless about how I handled her giving me. She liked it. She wanted to kiss. But I left her wanting. She called me baby.

"Why didn't you have a threesome?"
That's what my friend asked me. And I asked myself? Why i didn't? And I knew why.

"You know those chics probably planned that after reading your stories... Are they real by the way?"

So ladies and gentlemen, that's how we would pick a chic up at a club, select, indirectly approach, occupy space... No shifty eyes... Interject... Unless, you are me, you have a successful blog and you write. 

But you know love, no threesomes after love. It was good while it lasted. It's all twosomes now. And I kiss her. I don't leave her wanting. Oh love. Marry me.

Raw and Sour

Why do I forget you,
My sweet consoling words,
Why do I forget you?
You are my therapy,
You are my way out,
I am having hard evenings,
I am trying almost everything,
To be happy,
To keep my head up,
To think happy thoughts,
To look forward,
To laugh.
But where is my smile?
I can't see it,
Where is joy,
I can't feel it,
Where is hope,
I am trying to look at it but it's not clear.
When tragedy sets in,
Love comes in full measure,
From a lot of people,
But for a while,
Then they all leave and forget,
But you are stuck with the memories,
And all you want to do is revenge,
You want justice.
Then other issues come up,
Beyond your comprehension,
You don't know from where they come,
But they are there,
Your body starts to shake,
And you feel comfortable watching it shake,
You feel maybe it's something unclean that has gotten in you,
Then you put your bible next to you as you sleep,
You say countless prayers,
Hoping that it will make up for all the days,
You havent been speaking to Heaven. 
You switch on the lights,
Cause you can't sleep off with them,
At least not when you are shaking like you do,
And you do not know what's the deal,
It gets to a point you wish that it was a disease,
Probably something to do with depression or an over active brain.
But then you ask the doctor,
And he tell you it is stress or lack of sleep,
Lack of enough food,
You haven't been eating well,
You haven't been sleeping enough,
But have you? 
Or it's the caffeine in coffee that causes the tremors?
Then you start to obsess over small things,
Like work,
And it's all you can think about,
The escape you seek,
But it doesn't stop the tremors you feel inside.
You start not liking who you are becoming,
Keeping to yourself,
Not returning calls,
You force yourself to do what you are supposed to do,
What you have planned to do when you feel like that,
Ignore what you feel,
Keep to the path,
I am ready for it,
Take all the sadness in the world,
And I will live with it,
Take all the depression in the world,
And I will stay with it,
Whether it makes sense to me or not I will fight,
I will close my eyes and sleep cause I will need to wake up in the morning,
I will pray until I bleed to beg for angels to be sent from heaven,
To sleep around me,
To watch my bed.
I don't want to fight with the ghosts I seem to imagine in my room,
At night when lights are off,
I will stick to the plan,
I will rise above all,
I will not give up,
Smile at the ones I love,
Sit with them and talk politics,
Turn the pages on the books,
Enjoy a movie or two,
Stick to the plan until this disease is out,
Until I feel inspired and fly in total bliss.
But I am afraid of telling her these things,
The girl I love,
Why should I put her through all this,
I can't be seen to be crying the whole night,
I can't be seen to be the guy who sleeps with lights on,
And a Bible at his bed side,
Afraid of ghost but they might just be a disease,
That causes me to feel to much,
But am not even sure of that,
But it's always good to fight something you know,
It's comforting,
So I would rather just name it like psychiatrists do,
If I dont what will I be fighting against,
Something I can't explain,
You would hate what you know,
The body language of science,
When you ask a doctor what causes the tremors,
And clearly you see that he doesn't know,
Or does he?
I can close my eyes and fake happiness,
I will force myself to fight with the struggles of everyday,
Cause I am not foolish,
I know if I give up now I will suffer later,
And I don't want to regret,
I want comfort and pride for good things,
A heart that has helped the world.
But what I am really afraid of is her,
She didn't sign up for this,
I can't be ruining her mood every night,
Sadness is contagious you know,
I don't catch mine from people,
I am the source of it,
If you were me you would realize the power of a joke,
Or a harty Laughter,
It really cools you down.
Baby I might forget to make you happy,
I might not smile as much,
But in this world I need someone who understands me,
Like the heavens do,
The heavens do I know,
But I can't see them really.
But you are here,
I love you,
Am afraid if I dont smile enough,
I will loose you,
No one want to be with someone,
Who bitches and smiles all the time.
I will not edit this,
Cause this is for you baby,
I don't want to edit my words,
Like the way I edit a frown into a smile for the world,
I want to be naked before you,
I hope I will remember to turn off the lights,
So that you do not see anything get depressed and leave,
No one deserves to be with me,
Am troubled and complicated.
I know you didn't sign up for this babes,
But if you would stick around it will mean everything,
The mind is weak it can forget to stick around,
I don't know about the heart.
I promise when I am in bliss I will not forget you,
I will remember the nights we spent keeping me afloat,
You will remember my unedited words,
And I will pour bliss on you like an ocean,
You will drown in pleasurable bliss,
I will make you so happy you might think you are insane,
Cause when am happy that's how my happiness feels,
Insane,
And uncomprehendible ,
I will make you feel like the most blissful girl in the world.
Then you can show me a girl who is happier than you out there,
And if you find one which you wouldnt,
I will put on my swimming gear,
Swim to the deepest ocean to look for happiness for you,
Get a rope and climb the highest mountain until you are blissful,
Heck, I will even go fetch you the moon,
But if I find out you want the world instead,
I will take you to the moon,
We will sit next to each other on it,
I will tie a knot like a cowboy does,
Throw it into the universe until it catches the world,
Then with all my might I will pull the world to where we are,
And put it in your hand,
Then you will have no doubt,
When I tell you,
No girl in the world,
In history, in present day and in future,
Will ever know bliss from a man,
As much as you will.


Sent from my iPad

I Am Forced To Share You

Where have you been Baby?
Why don't you want to tell me?
Did you slid something up you as you read his love notes?
Even when he wasn't there with you?
Am I not doing enough for you?
I got this room for you and me,
At the corner of the listings on the Internet,
It is small so I don't even pay rent for it,
They gave it to me for free,
But I got it for us and am working had to get another comfortable,
A larger one,
Better organized,
Tell me you were not in another mans bed love,
Please tell me you were not?
My voice is turning shaky,
And my tears are almost falling off my face,
"don't look away, look at me"
I touch your cheek,
Come on touch your cheek now,
Yes with your hands so that you feel what I feel,
Please. Tell me.
Did you fall for him on the first day?
Did you sleep in his bed,
Did you pleasure him even when he was asleep?
Stroke his very big ego until you liked it?
Until it loaded up shot up and showed it liked you!
Will he find evidence of your pleasurable presence in the morning?
How could you do that to his ego even when he was asleep?
And you don't do that to me?
I thought we were married,
What's with this affair business with that guy?
I thought you were my wife?
I have entertained you right?
I have talked to you,
We have shared together.
You spent the whole night in his bed didn't you?
What new is he doing that I am not doing?
He was asleep didn't even know you were there,
He will only find spills and your lipstick around his bed,
Cant believe you left him a note when you left in the morning,
Saying you will back in his bed again.
I know you will go back there!
You even saved his address on you phone,
How many times will I given you my address?
I have committed to you,
Understand I am here for you.
Did you think about him when he wasn't around?
And imagine going to his room again,
To see if he has hang a new photo or left a note for you?
How could you cheat on me honey.
I wanted us to have babies together.
This corner on the Internet is my bed,
I don't yet have other rooms all over the country,
like columnist have,
The like button below is my ego baby,
The very big ego I have down there,
Leave traces of your lips stick on it,
On my bed,
The comment box,
When I wake up in the morning,
And I find out you were here on my statistics,
And you haven't left a note on my bed,
I feel like it was just a one night stand,
Being left in bed alone?
No one likes being left in the bed alone,
Kwanza without a note.
Why are you reading someone else's work,
Liking someone else's work in your head phones,
Downloading their songs,
And not bookmarking my blog?
You don't even know my name,
Where I tweet,
Yet you spend the night here,
It's always a crowd on my statistics,
You would also feel used.
Did you spend your night in someone else's bed on the first date?
Left him a note,
Made him an orgasm,
When all I have done is try to make your day,
With the little bed I have?
Or am I not good enough for you?
This bed is not big enough for you?
Am I doing something new?
I thought girls nurture,
Made things grow...
You are my orgasm.
And I don't mind you going to another man's bed,
I can share you cause you are phenomenal,
Tell your boyfriend sitted next to you to tap my shoulder,
And leave just one comment this way.
Guys are always happy when another guy gets some,
We are not like girls.
Be a girl like girls are and leave one naturing comment this way,
Just one.
That's all I need.
One.
The crowded orgy behind this page,
Already overly compensate for my empty bed.
The statistics are overflowing.
And...it's okay if you always have an affair,
Just come back here to me.
Which other writer has told you it's okay to have an affair?
See... I put your interest first!

Coco Butter And Sex

Was she serious? She was going to let me. I moved to the seat she was on. She smiled. It was dark. Was she serious? A smile? I moved closer to her. Was she serious? She was smiling even harder. I put my hand around her arm. She giggled. Seriously? A giggle. She was still happy. I was the one getting surprised. I question why I am a writer sometimes. This wasn't one of those times.

We had met. Not like lovers meet. At least not the ones with a good story. We had met. Not at a bar like bold people meet. We met. In the dark. I met her in my room. It was late in the night. The lights were as off as a bad joke. I pulled down my pants. I was not going to wear pajamas that night. I didn't know she was in my bed. Here I was undressing getting ready to get into my bed. Just about to be shocked out of my skin. I pulled my blanket open. Slid in.  Placed my hand under my pillow. And I felt something. She was there. In my phone. She had sent me an inbox. That's how we met that night, On Facebook.

She made my little man become big. I was in my room but I felt shy regardless. I blushed so much I almost sweated red make up on my cheeks. The way to a mans heart is through his stomach. The way to a girls heart is complicated. The way to my heart is through the attention  she gave my blog. She is my biggest fan. She had my attention. She then had my dic. And she wasn't there. I needed a fan. She excited me to horny sweats. Nothing is as gripping as naughty Facebook inboxes at night. Even bras don't grab boobs as well as her words grabbed my eyes that night.

When you sleep horny. You wake up very composed. Sometimes very filthy, especially when you used to wet dream. This age and time, even women wet dream. They are so empowered. I had been so desperate that night. She made me desperate. Then made me believe she could quench me. She had total power over me. I did what she said.

I couldn't believe myself. She had reduced me to picking her up from a bar. When you drive all the way to pick a girl from a bar, a stranger, someone who you only inbox, know you have a problem. I had a problem.
My windows were as tinted as night. It was day though. But you couldn't see through them. She hadn't told me how she looks. Though I had seen her on her photos. But you know blind dates are still blind dates even when you exchange photos.

I waited in the car next to where she told me I was to find her. She looked tall. Slender. Wore a jacket that fitted her perfectly. The light jackets. I can't remember exactly what she wore. But she could stand next to a super model from a Telly show. And you wouldn't be able to pick which one of the two was on Telly. Her photos never did her justice. Funny thing she knew the car. Scary thing she knew the car.

She opened the door. Said hi. Thew her bags on the back seat. So she was traveling. She's from traveling. She got in the car. Sat. Almost put her seat belt on. I was still staring at her. Was she assuming we had known each other from before? I was at the drivers seat, at the steering wheel, and I didnt know where we were going! She looked like she knew!

"nice to meet you"
"nice to meet you too"
Her's came of with a lot of attitude.
"do you model?"
I just had to ask. She used to. Then she stopped. She dates tv presenters. Probably that's where the confidence came from. I liked it.

The next time we were to meet. She stood me up. I bitched. She apologized.

The second time she had planned to stand me up, she did not. Power was out. My house was dark.
 "I am coming. But I am literally in pajamas, I was at my friends place."
The guards let her in. She ran away from the dogs. The dogs ran after her. My dogs are lovable. You can run, you can hide, but you can't escape their love. I looked at her ran to the door. The guard saved her from the friendly dogs. If she didn't ran they wouldn't chase her.

We hugged. She was not in pajamas. She was in worse. She looked comfortable though. Socks sandals, the works. She looked heavier this time. I hugged her. I felt her boobs. Her boobs are different. Underneath all those sweaters she wore. I still felt them prominently. The darkness. Her boobs. An empty house. I was horny.

I sat next to her. She smiled. She giggled. My heart started to race. I might have sex. And man had I been starved. I touched her boob. Just a bit, and I swear she wanted to bend over already. I was horny because of kplc and her boobs. But the fact she wanted me so badly. Made me hornier.If my horniness was a hyena. It would be like Godzilla. She lie down for me. I barely knew her. She was a stranger to me. But she lay there for me. Ready to be taken by me. I felt so nice I wanted to just run around the house like a crazy person. I decided to be cool about it.

I swear I tore her stockings trying to get them off. I kissed her lips. Just her lip. She smelled nice. I was so excited, I anticipated pleasure, my hands were even shaking as I tried to helmet my Jimmy. He had to have a helmet. Cause he was about to have the ride of his life. Head on collusion. I grabbed her neck. Her walls opened up. I slid in. It was dark, I was holding her neck like it was food. But treating it as if it was icecream only warm like a volcano.

Every time I held her, different ways, squeezing this and that. I felt her get warmer. It was getting into an oven down there. I was right at the heart of it.
I could see it in her eyes. She didn't intend things to go that far. But had I decided to pull out. She would have punched my face inside. When I squeezed her boob, it was as if I was squeezing a bunch of grapes. She dripped. I thought I would float from all her wetness. I moved up and down, in circles, down and up. Rotated. It was beautiful. She must have been cuming all that time. I know this cause when we changed position, and she held up her skirt for me. Bent over. So that I could have her the way I wanted. she was wet. But not like the first time. The first time, she held my hand. The same way she held it on the second round. But the first time, somehow, instinctively, I knew she meant, right there baby. The second time she touched me, in the same way as the first, I knew somehow. She meant. Let's sit down and almost cuddle. I slept on her lap. Then we discussed how it was uncool to have disposed off used rubber in that Coco Butter tin I found at the sink. What if someone found it?

That's when my lips felt what kissing a girl who smokes feels like. She knew my car. You would almost believe she is a stalker. Am I now sleeping with my stalkers? She knew everything about me. I knew nothing about her. Besides that her boobs feel like boobs should feel. I bet her bras get horny by just cupping them. I wouldn't be surprised to here they snap and unclutch, swearing they have had enough. That they want the real deal, they want her sex.
 "Too bad Bra I have had sex with her, you can snap all you want."
 And, men is she sweet. And warm. She is a magician that girl. She looks different every time I see her. And I taste her after I have stopped tasting her.

She had quenched my thirst. But no matter how well you do sex. You have to do it again. Too bad I fell in love.

 I guess we were never meant to fill the Coco Butter.

Either Way You Win

I picked up the phone,
But I really did not want to pick it up,
I wanted to think,
I wanted to worry,
I am not solving my problem,
Just thinking about it,
Reassuring myself I have a problem,
Asking myself what is the meaning of all this?
Why am I even writing?
What am I saying?
Who is listening?
How many people are listening?
To what I say?
How can I make more people listen?
Why am I thinking about the people who are listening?
Should I be selfish?
And write the things I write down for me?
And my heart sinks at these thoughts,
And as my heart drowns dead at these thoughts,
The truth comes out,
I take out the words from my chest,
And pour them out in these words,
And all of a sudden I feel at peace,
Even if no one listens,
Even if no one gets me,
My own words get me,
I understand myself better,
I feel better,
When I pour out words,
It is my addiction,
And when I go through withdrawal,
My fingers tremble,
My cravings feel like they are born a fresh,
They are so strong I can almost see them,
I can hear my insides scream and whisper,
"just write, just write a few words you will be all right..."
And sometimes I reach out to that temptation,
And touch the letters on this touch screen,
And pour my cravings away,
I feel sick until I write something,
Sometimes when I feel sick I write,
Sometimes when I feel sick and write,
I feel like I am not healed by my writing,
I try to express myself more and more,
Until I feel better,
But you know sometimes medicine does not work,
But most times it always cools us down,
I feel cooled down when I write,
Sometimes I feel the sickness of not writing escaped,
I am on a path I can't turn away from,
It is sort of a blessing and a curse all at once,
A blessing cause it feels my spirit with such life,
A curse cause I am not in control of what I feel,
And to think that my happiness,
To think that my joy is controlled by mere words,
The reading of them and the producing of them,
Feels like a curse,
Oh how I wish I was in control of how I feel,
I have never been even from the start,
And like getting more makes you greedy,
As the people I talk to turn into huge masses,
My pride climbs a mountain,
And so does my fear,
And it is heading to the peak,
I feel my heart is eaten up by the words I speak.
So that no piece of it is left for anything else,
And slowly my mood is determined by the words I speak,
My life is turning into my writing,
I have a life to live I try to remind myself,
At this rate I feel like I am almost turning nuts,
Bargaining my life for risk,
I feel like traveling to unstable places,
And searching my heart for darker things,
Searching my pleasure nerves for pleasurable things,
So that I can feel this paper with words different,
I might be paying to much attention to my heart,
And the sensibility of my mind is becoming less confident,
And that is how madness starts,
Yes passion can drive,
Now I believe,
If I listen to those I speak to too much,
I will get lost,
I got to remind myself,
To go back to the genesis of all these,
I am here firstly for me,
To keep me sane,
To remind myself of myself,
To remind myself of beautiful moments passed,
Sad moments passed,
To freeze my ideas and thoughts,
So that one day I can pick them up,
I like to believe that I can put my writing on a schedule,
Force it to fit in a timetable,
Say that at this time and this date I will write about this,
But I never learn that will never work,
It's like I am just a medium of what is big in me,
I think it is my heart that is big in me,
Oh what a genius it is,
When it wants words out,
It must get them out,
Otherwise,
It will torture me with such sadness,
And depression,
And the only way I will get healed,
Is by the medicine of writing,
I am a slave to my heart,
I am a slave to this pen,
I am just obeying what it says,
And when I rebel it it still wins,
For in the end to me it's just following my heart,
I have a toDo list to fight it with,
Otherwise my life will be out of control,
So when my heart cries,
I let it cry,
When it laughs,
I let it laugh,
When it wants to write I give it a pen,
Cause it writes better than my mind,
But I still remember,
If I let it out of control too much,
Like a lion left out of a cage,
It will go destroying everything around,
Everything I am trying to build,
It might even destroy myself,
I don't want to be too much a slave to it,
I leave my phone ringing,
Cause I am worrying about what it wants,
I will not find myself sleeping under a tent in a jungle,
Looking and searching for adventure to fill my heart,
Or will I?
Even if I do,
I must remember my toDo list,
Cause my toDo list is my mind's cage for my heart,
Unless my heart is too strong for a moment and breaks that cage,
And finds itself satisfying it's craving of pain and laughter.
At the end of my words I understand myself better,
It's like a happy ending always even though it is a sad one,
Not at all times do I understand myself but most times I do,
And now I understand that it's a battle of my heart and mind,
My mind wants a schedule to write,
But my heart is spontaneous,
My mind is sensible and swears on the notion 'that survival for the fittest',
And my heart screams 'life lived without passion is dead,'
My heart wants risks and adventure,
Or else it will torture me with depression,
My mind knows if I just think with my heart I will be dead,
I will let my heart win most times,
For it is stubborn and way brighter than my mind,
And besides the happiness it gives me is,
greater than my mind will ever give me,
But I want to be alive,
So I must let my mind win at times,
I love my heart,
It's as intelligent as pregnancy,
And it gives birth to the greatest and newest of words,
I cannot stop writing,
Whether you listen or do not,
I am on a path I can't turn back from,
And I am not turning back,
I am just trying to tame my ways a bit,
But not tame it to much,
Be still my wondering heart,
I will let you lose when you really crave to be out too much,
Cause then I know you have something so genius that can't wait,
Or let you lose when I want you lose,
Just to spoil myself and you a little,
Either way you win,
Be still my explosive heart,
With this words,
And my toDo list,
I tame you.

Hand Me Freedom

Boom a beautiful piece,
You write it and feel it,
Immediately it is done,
Then it does better than you expect,
The viewers and readers are as countless,
As the bubble in a champagne glass,
And post after post,
Word after word,
Your readers love and love more,
But then you realize,
That you cannot just write anything,
Not like you used to write before,
You have to please those that read,
And it becomes harder and harder to write,
Every piece you write you erase,
It turns into a mess,
You are on a path you can't go back,
You can't almost turn back,
The addictive statistics on the administrators log in page,
Are evidence,
Trying to quiet the sounds in the background,
Trying to quit the graphs on the statistics,
I need to numb this now,
I love to write,
How can I write when all this voices in the background,
Ask me where did my beautiful words go?
Why I have written ugly boring ones,
Was it better when I hid this words,
In my diary and private books,
I enjoyed writing them down then,
Now I can't,
Its about,
Stop?
Is this funny enough?
Is there suspense enough?
I miss writing in peace,
Looking for a drug,
To numb the sounds in my head,
In the world,
Numb the people in my ear,
That tell me of awesomer bloggers,
Of writers who write in 3D,
Even my Telly is not yet in three dimension,
I love to write,
This is where I want to be,
Numbing the sounds around me,
I miss careless writing,
That's where all the great pieces are born,
Unchain me,
Let me be free,
Numbing the voices in my head,
The sounds around,
Other writers around,
For with freedom,
Comes a great piece,
And I crave one.

My Last Letter To You

I can't believe you called me a snake,
I can't believe you called me a serpent,
And perfectly mean things I can't write here,
Or re-read on my message inbox,
When my family was taken,
You were there,
Until they were back,
When my writing was being born,
You were there,
You read my writing even in the dead of the night,
Not like the new one that asks me to edit,
Three days after I have posted it,
When I was in trouble,
You offered contacts from Interpol even,
When I was laughing on the phone,
You were the one on the other end,
When we were chasing good coffee huts in town,
We discovered Merica,
You led me on until,
I depended on you like a deep sea diver,
Depends on his oxygen tank,
I want to text you back all the messages you sent me,
The ones you send me when you are angry,
I know your never allow your phone to store sent messages,
So no need of asking you to re-read them,
I can't copy-paste the nasty trillions of them back to you,
you know when you are pushed to the wall,
You crack and say things you can't take back,
And when you are angry,
The conversation always turns into,
The possessions I have,
Which are not really even mine,
The conversation goes to,
How I am using reverse psychology and all other antiques,
To get what I want,
Here is the reality girl,
Yes I do get most of what I want,
But I never get what I need,
Like peace of mind,
You know am always looking over my shoulder,
With a shaking hand with numbers on speed dial,
Unable to find the confidence to walk the streets at night or day,
Always planning on how I will defend myself,
And always trying to get out of the success shadows,
Of the ones that mentor me,
To be my own person and success,
You think I feel good,
When I get bad grades at school,
And compare my transcripts to my blood-lines,
You think I feel good,
When I look at my wayward life,
And compare it to my blood-lines,
And the bible schools she makes sure run,
To get little kids religious,
So much is expected of me,
And sometimes I feel I am not cut out for it,
And being an emotional cripple doesn't help,
Fruitlessly fighting this bipolar doesn't help too,
I am not as strong as you,
So this time get angry at me,
For making you jealous or something,
But this time leave,
And go for good for heavens sake,
I found someone,
Who when she gets angry at my actions does not run,
She stays on the phone,
And fights with me,
Out of sight out of mind you know,
That's your motto,
Not hers,
She would rather I stay,
Yesterday we talked,
And instead of throwing stereo-types at me,
Or trying to equate the way I act,
to possessions and where I am from,
She fought me with love,
Until we discovered each other,
From the roots of why I look for myself in other girls skirts,
I felt myself opening up to things I don't even open up to to myself,
She makes me a better person,
I make her a better person,
No snakes,
Like the one you see in me,
It's just angels and honesty,
you send me messages wishing me dead,
she sent me chocolate and a bracelet,
I saved my mum a piece without telling her who it was from,
Maybe one day I will tell her,
It's like we are connected,
Every time you call me in my bipolar-ish depression,
I normally am in almost every evening,
To depress me more by swearing why I am such a bad person,
So that I am even more depressed close to tears,
She calls me immediately after,
As if she can sense your animosity to me and my moods,
And she first makes me laugh,
Then takes care of me,
It is senseless,
Having in mind she will fly out for school,
And might not even come back,
I might follow her but probably in a different continent,
We might be separated forever,
But I can't cry now,
She doesn't call me a snake,
Or text me she wishes me dead,
She tries to build me,
She doesn't walk away,
She tries to build me,
I am a bad person,
But even twisted people get their love,
Everyone has someone made for them,
That's why we shouldn't force things,
That is unrefuted,
Maybe almost selfish,
But I am very selfless to you sublime ways,
I felt really bad when we jumped back into bed last time,
Mostly after we had done everything,
I had promised myself never to do that again,
But I had to,
So that you would be happy,
You even cried while at it,
And told me it's cause you felt something you have never felt before,
That the joy was overwhelming,
I just needed you as a friend for forever,
We were never meant to be together that was clear from the start,
And we agreed to the same,
We have been together on the same bed,
So it is understandable for you to be jealous and I too at times,
If you truly cared for me,
You wouldn't view me as shallowly,
Look at me as such a shallow person,
As shallow as the way you perceive me,
So what if she drives whatever she drives,
So what if she gets her sunglasses from wherever she gets them,
So what?
She makes me a better person,
I make her a better person,
When you call someone a snake too long,
They end up becoming snakes,
Look at bad fatherhood and their siblings,
And you will understand,
I don't want to be a snake,
She calls me her prince,
And I call her my princess,
And prince and princesses like the childhood books we read,
Are not snakes,
They travel the world,
And give love to the ones the world treats too fairly,
They collect food and give to the hungry,
They build each other out of their bad habits,
So that they can set precedence for the ones that look up to them,
All you need is one couple that doesn't cheat,
To prove to the rest of the world true love is possible,
She builds me,
I build her,
We build ourselves,
All you need is modern day Romeo and Juliet,
And everyone will believe in love again,
She builds me,
I build her,
She e en know I have a new blog,
We will set couple precedence like,
Romeo and Juliet if the distance separates us,
or something forever,
Like an eighty year old couple,
Either way,
Everyone will believe in love,
She builds me,
I build her,
We build us,
We are us,
Not snakes!

 

The last...with each drop of my pain!

To you this is just a post,

But to me it's more than that,

I carry this hurt to my bed,

To the point I swear in texts,

Which I never do,

I carry this hurt to my bed,

And I unleash it on unsuspecting things,

The phone I bang on the table,

The shoes I kick out of my feet,

The smile I can't access for those I love,

I carry the hurt you give me to my bed,

Where I spend most of the time of my life,

Instead of peace,

My body shakes in pain,

If you have seen it shake in pleasure,

Imagine the reverse,
Then you will realize,
How much I hide from you,
I cry with every word I write,
You have ups and downs,
But mine are ups up to euphoria,
And down more frustrating than hell,
So when I feel jealous is sticks with me like a cancer,
It never really comes off,
To you it's something that you just use to gauge,
Whether a guy really loves you or not,
You wanted another post about you,
There you have it,
But as you enjoy it,
Don't forget the tears that come with it,
Have those ones too,

Take them right from my eyes,

As they drop,
Each drop of my pain,
I feel used.

Force Me To Write Better

Shhh Inhale deeper,
My eyes raises up,
From the book I read,
Mhhh inhale deeper,
Feel my lungs with that sweet scent,
Seat close to me,
Your perfume is enough,
I feel my hands want to open,
Maybe they want to hug you,
Just for your scent,
Why are you walking out of this room?
You scent will go with your presence,
I crave you will stay here for a while,
Just like I crave a good story,
Something I can write later and read,
Something as wild as,
The events of early last weekend,
When the journey leading to a destination,
Found it's destination before the destination,
Do you remember where we stopped?
The busy road-side by the high way,
Packed right beside fast moving cars,
It was as day as the sun light,
There was a bus-stop near by,
It wasn't empty it had potential passengers,
Then after some little convincing,
You gave up your rare side,
Your head between the head rest and the window,
Of the driver seat behind that seat,
On the back seat,
And your black jeans and black belt,
I pulled down a little bit,
We were mashed up on the right side of that long seat,
And you complained that the front window wasn't tinted,
Until I was in you with your black sting still on,
The g string,
You started moaning even before I was in,
Which still puzzles me,
I thought you moaned cause I was rubbing your walls,
In ways that touched your nicest spots,
Let me go with believing that you love to moan,
That's why you moaned before I was in,
Your head between the drivers head rest and the door,
My right knee folded on the back seat,
Pushing you to the right side of that seat,
Hitting your every right spots,
My left leg half standing on the car floor,
My shorts belted up but my zip undone,
Just incase a good Samaritan noticed the car,
And stopped to inquire why we've stopped,
But thanks to kenyans current culture,
No one wants to rescue a car stalled by the road,
No one wants to be caught,
Pants down and ass being spanked and squeezed,
No one wants to be caught,
No one wants to be disturbed,
Filling up rubber with his seed,
Tell me which on-coming mad man on the road,
Will stop his lorry on the high way,
Reverse it to get a better glimpse of the backseat activities,
Through the  clear windscreen he passed even if he saw,
Thanks to fast drivers,
But no thanks to the unanticipated pedestrians,
They just seemed to show up in front of the car,
Just after I had cum,
She yelled shit shit shit shit,
But she laughed in the midst of it all,
As she pulled her jeans up jumping jumping,
I guess that how girls wear tight jeans,
I did not worry,
Cause the bicycle-dragging-sleepers-wearing guy,
That was right in front of the car,
Didn't look like the kind to carry a camera phone,
Or have enough credit to call some media house,
Sometimes my phone has no credit too,
So I guess I couldn't burst myself to ktn too, Lol,
The girl walking next to him,
I am sure he fucks,
So I guess he understood,
That we were doing our thing,
Like they were about to head to their destination,
And do their thing,
But we found our destination before our destination,
And the yogurt filled with rubber found it's destination,
Right in the middle of the high way,
She screamed 'you aren't serious'
As I rolled down the window,
And let the condom drop right there in the middle of the highway,
I pressed the acceleration paddle much harder,
When she said 'I think that woman crossing saw'
We laughed and I turned the stereo louder,
I felt like a man,
Even though you refused to blow me on the way back,
Something to do with rubber or cum...
But I know we got to our destination,
Before our destination,
It really was a weekend,
I crave another story,
Someone make me feel something,
So great,
So that I write as great,
And when I come back to read this,
A year from now,
I will be as thrilled as you are,
Reading this,
Or as thrilled as i was,
when I found my destination,
Before my destination,
Someone make me feel!
I crave...

My Dying Blog

This blog is useless without you,

I feel fruitless without you,

I post something and it's comment-less,

Yes I do see viewers are many,

But who knows maybe they clicked and clicked nkT,

Then got away,

I wish you were here to hate,

I wish you were here to love,

I wish you were here to read,

To tell me I will change the world in a way,

Or at least a corner of it,

I wish you were here to tell me,

That you realize that when I am hurt beyond,

The only way I recover is when I get something good out of it,

In a post scandalous enough to make me feel riskily exposed,

I know we have sexed and your sex has been the best inspiration,

That fire that burns,

The way you see me,

You see what I am trying to become,

When no one else can see it,

I wish I could give you a relationship,

But I can't my honey,

But I need you sweetie,

I am incomplete,

I will die,

This blog will die,

If you do not follow me,

Discuss post with celebrities,

Like you do on my tweeter,

@astoldbybobby,

I wish you would text me,

On what you think on Facebook,

You were the first to follow this blog,

You believed in me,

Like the other five followers do,

Even though I have thousands of viewers,

And still don't understand why I have five followers,

But math has always been hard for me,

Come back babes,

You make me laugh,

You bug me nicely,

Though sometimes I get irritated by your million missed calls,

I can't do without you,

I want to be a better writer,

I want to seize my most joyful memories,

In a form so permanent that when am sixty or eighty,

I will read feel and remember the sex we had,

At very wrong places,

I need you now,

Please come back to me,

I am not ashamed to say,

I am lost without you,

Am desperate for you,

Depression has struggled my pride,

Time has killed my pride,

My pride is at the grave,

I even put a flower on it,

That is what compels me to say,

I am desperate for you,

Kiss me back to life,

I am your sleeping handsome,

We have equal rights,

Women can be heroes too,

No sleeping beauty tonight,

Just sleeping handsome,

Kiss me to life, 

Like sleeping beauty was,

Kiss me to life,

I am desperate for you,

Kiss me to life,

I am your sleeping handsome,

Kiss me to life

The End Never Justifies The Means

Every writer wants to be read, 
Every writer wants to be remembered,
Every writer needs content,
Easy content is scandal,
Scandal is easy and popular content,
I don't want to write destruction,
Words that influence un-good,
With hidden un-clean meanings,
Like those musicians do,
They run after fame,
Leaving a blood bath path behind;
Of lives ruined,
I don't want to write destruction,
But il write scandal,
For that's beautiful,
Real and true,
But my words will not break,
Drive Wills to bad,
But drive hearts to laugh,
Minds to enjoy,
Emotion to be felt,
Compassion to win,
My path to a spot light writer shall be clean,
Not a blood bath,
Something admirable,
Inspiration for humanity,
Inspiration to be humane,
For the end doesn't justify the means,
I'd rather not have it if my path to it is unclean,
There is always another way,
The grass looks greener on the other side,
But is it really,
Look,
Is it really?
There is always another way,
I'd rather not have it if my path is unclean,
For the end never justifies the means.