Fayner Posts: Flash back, if you will, about a week and a half to Tony Testicle’s suite in Vegas that I and many other people chose to call homebase. Thanks again, Tony.
It was like four in the morning on Sunday. Dez was snorting all the coke. Robbye Bentley had snuck in and was yapping away about how great she is as a photographer. I was restless.
“We need to call some whores!” I hollered.
No one responded with enthusiasm.
“Listen,” I continued, “we can sit here all night powering up this whole damn hotel with our jaw movement, or we can call some fucking porno whores and get them up here to be our toys!”
Again, no one seemed interested.
Was I alone in my desire to use porno chicks as they were intended to be used by the great hand of GOD?
I think so.
So I got on the phone and began dialing whores.
Ariana Jollee – answering machine
Missy Monroe – no answer
Avy Lee Roth – straight to voice mail
The list goes on…
It’s a damn crying shame times two divided by six add seventeen when porno chicks are too good to come to a room inhabited by deviant sloths in the middle of the night and be treated just as they are expected to be treated.
I really wanted to make one of them into a coke table (ie: a whore who walks around on all fours with a pile of cocaine on her back for the enjoyment of everyone else, a game invented and perfected by the great and powerful Mystery Cock). Instead we had to use a fucking mirror.
A fucking mirror?!! To snort coke?! What the fuck is going on here!
I even tried hiding my incoming phone number while dialing up whores in case they were all just avoiding me, as Tony suggested, but no dice.
Sorry to disappoint all you porno fans who actually think these chicks are fun and easy and willing to be exploited for the fun of a hack writer and his late-night kicks, but today’s porno chick don’t play that game anymore. They want money for their time. They want to not be used as a coke table. They want respect.
Where have all the good times gone???
My guess is to the bank.
Damn.