Freaks Come Out At Night

When was the last time anybody talked about Bill Bellamy?  It’s been a minute, right?  Well, I watched (some of) a stand-up that he did the other night and I remembered that he was actually a funny brother.  No, he’s not Kevin Hart, but I literally LOL.  I wish I could have laughed my ass off so I could avoid dieting and going to the gym but, alas, that didn’t happen.

A part of his routine was about being a freak.  Trying to figure out where he fit on the freak scale.  He talked about joining in on a sex chat online as “Cat Daddy” who attracted “Miss Kitty” (meow).  His freak “offerings” included pouring hot popcorn butter down her back and letting the kernels fall into her booty and pouring Apple Jack milk down her back and letting the cereal chunks fall in the crack of her booty.  (Cereal chunks in your ass!?!?!?)  Yeah….no.  Not freaky.  Kinda gross.  Definitely not sanitary and hygienic. 

(Do freaks think about hygiene?  Does the fact that I thought about hygiene mean that I am low on the freak scale?  Yes?  Oh.  Well, I DID think about where I was on the freak scale.  I’m not going to tell you what I came up with.  (I’m embarrassed.  LOL!)  But I did come up with some ways to, uh, make “adjustments”.  Will not include cereal and milk though.  I am lactose intolerant.)

None of this will happen any time soon because I’ve decided to attempt celibacy…again.  I’m trying to live right.  It’s easy to say that I’m going to keep it to myself.  It might just be easy since I don’t have any options right now.  (That’s both good and bad.  Who doesn’t WANT options?)  No temptations.  No reason to pull out my tutu and 4 ½” heels.  No reason to come to the door in…. Wait, I’m not talking about all that…unless you have some creative ideas you’d like to share.