Earlier this year I went to Los Angeles. When I go there I'm on the prowl. There for seven days? Dick for five. That's just how I roll. Give the ol puss a couple days off.
My victim that night was cute. Golden blonde hair, blue eyes, some sort of weird beard growth on his face ( that was NOT cute). Met him from OKCupid! His name is White Carlos. Because his name is Carlos and he had a Hispanic last name but, he looked like his name should be Chad Jacobs or something. So I go pick him up and he isn't a killer so yay me! He decides he just has to smoke some weed and eat this weird green stuff before we leave. So I wait and shoot the shit with him.
We go to this really nice bar. I have a dirty martini extra olives. First one I ever had, it was delicious. I have another. I have to drive so I stopped at two. Then I drive back to his place. It being L.A., there is no fucking parking. I park on the street in some random spot he told me to park at. We get back in his place and he has to smoke...again. Dude you JUST SMOKED. Oh we are also listening to the Tron soundtrack.
So he's smoking and we are drinking some more and I'm getting a contact from all the smoke. Then the making out begins. I leave to remove my spanx. Gotta keep shit smooth. We move it to the bedroom. He whips it out..."where's the rest?" I wonder. It was small, pubes not neatly trimmed. Overall unimpressive. I'm not a size queen though, I've had my world rocked by small dicks. Just not this one. Start sexing and he farts...Well I didn't want to embarrass him so I didn't say anything. Then it happens again. I'm thinking " The fuck?" Then Every. Single. Thrust. was punctuated by a fart. At this point I know I must be high/drunk because It's not bothering me as much as it should. They didn't smell ( thank God) so whatever. We finish and apparently I'm sleeping over. I don't like sleeping over. I'm like a man. I like to fuck and then sleep in my own bed, with my cats. So this fucker or should I say farter, proceeds to continuously wake me up to fuck all night. This is why I don't sleep over. I need my sleep. Then he wants morning sex. I'm dry, he comments on it. I almost said " No shit Sherlock" but I didn't. I should have though. I was sore ( dry sex is painful sex), slightly hungover and tired as fuck. My vagina Shut That Shit Down!
So he decides to make breakfast. Cool. Steel cut oats. Apparently they take an hour to make cuz when I try to leave he looks all sad. So I sit there for two hours while this dick looks for jobs on Craigslist. " I'm also a Yogi" he tells me after I read a cover letter of his. "Really?" I feigned interest.
So then he decides to ask me if I could give him a ride somewhere. I ask him how he usually gets there. He says he rides his bike. " Get to peddling" is what I should have said. Instead I said ok. I had shit else to do. So he decides to pack up his bike so he could get home and he rides down the street ahead of me. I'm in 6inch hooker heels in the middle of the morning feeling like I'm doing the walk of shame so I'm trying to get to the car quickly. Meanwhile he is making circles or some shit in the street.
All could think was " I hope you get hit". Would it have been wrong if I had jut gotten in the car and left the scene? I'm on vacation, Ain't nobody got time fo police reports! I finally get to the car and get that fucking bike in the trunk, whats waiting for me on the windshield. A fucking ticket. A. Fucking. Ticket. " Oh yeah I forgot it was street cleaning day" That's what he says to me. I bitch about the ticket knowing good and well this " actor" won't be giving me any money for it. How much is it? $75 fucking dollars. $75 FOR A PARKING TICKET?! The sex was not that good! He farted the whole time!! We get going and head to the highway. It's nice out so I have the window down. As soon as we get on the highway he flips out about the window and all the toxic highway fumes. I laughed and told him it was snowing back home. He still won't shut up so I roll the window up. We eventually get to where he needs to be. Took a half hour of my delicious/ precious gas. I say nice meeting you and pop the trunk. That was the last I saw of White Carlos the Farter. I also got lost on the way back to my hotel. My GPS didn't like me being on the phone and talking to my sister about my night. A few weeks later I get a text from him asking to look at his headshots...
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