a twisted martini tittle-tattle involving my girl from avondale west…

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and so i sit,

contemplating n shit,

if i could find a couch comfortable enough,

i would easily,

without duress,

see through the rest of days on this lump of rock,

reclined on this comfortable couch,

and watching an endless loop of daenerys targaryen getting out of the bath tub in season 3 of game of thrones,

if i’m feeling generous,

i shall have another couch for dali tambo’s moustache,

actually,

this would be more fear than generosity,

the chief of protocol took one look at that ‘stache and promptly bumped up the number of presidential bodyguards to 13,

we love our dear old erratic president,

his little ‘stache also felt a bit intimidated by dali’s stache almighty,

and so i shall pull up a comfortable couch for it,

we shall be served martini’s by my pretty girl with the ass from avondale west,

she throws in a pitted olive,

she also gives fantastic head,

was with her last night,

no martini’s though,

it being a monday and all,

lay about on the couch, gave her what i give well, then left her in a delirious post-orgasmic daze,

all heebie jeebies quivering n shit,

she sent me a whatsapp message this morning,

i may have been a bit gung ho last night,

after packing much heat, and directing it in the required areas,

and carrying on in the required manner and so forth and so on and stuff like that,

she has decided to name my blokehood ‘Blaze’,

she’s a keeper,

Blaze concurs,

dali’s stache almighty likes his martini ‘twisted not stirred’,

i see conflict there,

coz my girl from avondale west likes to hold it and shake it,

well well,

stache almighty misses out i guess…

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