Tag: adulthood

Real talk. Stop simping. There is a 5’5 shorty out there that wants you to fuck her. You need to find this chicka

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Man I’m an old fuck. I don’t understand this simping shit. Women don’t want to be worshipped they want to be fucked by a dude with big dick energy.

Real talk. Okay so your bad at the dating shit. Practice my dude or dude try this. Notice the chicka that looks at you for long moments when you talk and smiles at you and tries her best not to be a bitch but she is encouraging and is comfortable being close. If you take her by the hand and lead her to a place to sit down. Fuck do I need to go on.

My advice. Don’t get in her way my dude. She’s trying to figure out if you have a nice bed or a steady table to put her on.

I’m dead ass…

Serious. My dude. You don’t have to try hard or dress in a suit. She wants you. You just need to pay fucking attention.

This chicka wants you to fuck her. She wants to bare your fucking kids. I’ve had this shit happened to me in public around my chosen preference 5’5 shorties.

I love me a shorty. The first shorty I smiled down at froze a moment and then blinked up at me and then blushed.  I had on a T-shirt and blue jeans and run over sneakers. Fuck I don’t think Obama was in office.

Real talk. Don’t worship. Find a chicka that wants you to fuck her and please don’t say some dumbass line to get in her way. Laughter excites them. Bullshit little dick simp energy puts them off.

Warm, Regards

Guardiandogg

Song of the day abuse by propaganda because it’s one of those days

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It comes up every once in a while. A song from my past and a memory of days when I didn’t feel the grind on my rough hands and scared body.

I hear the drum. The engine is ribbing up for the day. My hope is that it will be productive day.

Spice kicks in as the song gears up the hill and I feel the new sounds drifting into the rhythm.

Alright let’s get this shit going. Could be rain coming in the afternoon. There’s a chill to the air but my mind is set to the sound and beat.

Let’s go.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

Someone told me I can’t afford something…my response is challenge accepted

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Listen, if life is easy for you and you were raised with wealth and got the hot ass shorty easily ignore my post your doing fine.

Life is conflict for me. There always is something standing in the way of what I want or some person or bullshit brain washing about who I am and what I’m supposed to be or like. I have to fight against the shit every day in the country of my birth.

Fuck, my own fucking thoughts and self doubts can be against me at times. I still have to fight on for one purpose.

Fuck the bullshit I got shit I got to get done.

That’s it. I got shit I got to get done. If you want to do something and your shit at it from the jump then you need to work at it until you reach a capable level or give the shit up because it wasn’t important enough to fight to be better at doing.

My one ambition sense I was twelve was to reach a level of mastery that the words I put to pen and paper or doc file and font size convey my seriousness to the craft of writing.

That spirit lives on in my life in other roads of conflict I travel on now. When something means to you how hard are you willing to fight to claim it, to keep it, to master it, to earn it and to hold it?

I ask myself though before I get into the ring of conflict and accept the possibility of failure and defeat and the bullshit aftermath of self doubt demons haunting me in my sleep and waking hours.

Do you give a damn?

If the answer is anything but challenge accepted then I know it ain’t worth the bullshit. I can walk away gladly because it’s one less conflict I can add to the series of battles I’m currently in. I can forgo the bullshit if it means nothing to me but if is the former then my feet are already leading me into the field of blood and battle. Win or lose I wouldn’t have any other way. Because I will fight until the bloody fucking end for someone or something that means everything to me.

I never grew from the few times in my life when everything was at peace. I grew when I got my first kick to the face. I grew when I had to go to the hospital and see my dying mother even when I didn’t want to. I grew in my years of isolation and days of despair as I had to push my mind out of the fog of darkness around my mind.

Conflict. It is the air I breath and water I swim.

I embrace that because I know what it’s like to try to run from it. You can’t avoid it if is on the other side of the door of conflict means everything to you.

You’ll know. When you give a damn.

Warm, Regards

Guardiandogg

A black rambos weakness. Self pity with a side of jack daniels

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Holy shit.

If there is one thing I can’t stand about my black Rambo skin folk is the self pity bullshit they endulge in while they have a 5’5 shorty on their lap feeding them love and home made sandwich.

Holy shit.

I see it occasionally. The old grip about white folks, marketing issues about race and shit kicking cowboys rocking they’re cowboy hats with pride and no fucks given about what happened in the past.

Black Rambos are at their best when they’re having fun and taking on life by the balls. At their worst they’re like a beta bitch crying in the street about the conflicts of life and things not being easy.

I’m an American Highlander. I vap dispair and conflict like cookies n’ cream ice juice and exhale cool summer night vibes.

I used to find it depressing to see black rambos behaving in such a way now…well my view point has changed.

If you saw a 6’8 big dick black rambo sitting in a BMW pissing and whinning crying over some fucking billion asshole not respecting them wouldn’t you laugh.

You damn well know I would.

Warm, Regards

Guardiandogg

A lesson in female bullshit lesson 4 can you please answer my mother fucking question and no I’m not saying your a fat bitch

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I have a problem. When I’m talking to someone which is very few times with few words I need to know one thing a head of time. Will you answer my mother fucking question?

It’s only one little request. Well it’s really a mother fucking demand. I just need to know when I finally do speak will you answer with female bullshit or passive aggressive bitch speech. I need to be prepared ahead of time or else my fucking blood pressure will climb or my give a damn switch will be turned off immediately.

Example.

Her opening attack. “Hey what do you think of my dress?”

My response. “It’s nice. You think it’s going to be cold today?”

Her response. “What the fuck does that mean? You think my dress is to short. You think I’m a slut? What fuck is wrong with you?”

Holy shit! It’s to early for this shit. I need some mother fucking coffee in me. Sweet Jesus give me strength.

My finger is on the I-give-a-damn switch. I take a breath. “Aw no. I was asking because I don’t want to wear a jacket today if it will get warmer.”

Her response. “Oh. Well. Yes. It will get warmer. So what are you thinking about doing for the weekend?”

I slam my fist down on the switch and check out of the conversation.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

Update to the shit storm in Texas power on…

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Power is on still cold as hell lessons learned are many.

1) get some shit kicking boots.

2) get some sleeping bags and get a shit hits the fan plan.

3) You never know when the government or some man made bullshit will try to fuck you over so don’t trust em beyond a gentleman’s agreement.

4) My feet were cold as rocks and I slept in near 0 degrees temperatures for two nights. I got through it with my best friend and fucking grit and the shit still might not be over. Holy shit.

Holy mother fucking shit.

No.

Hot damn! What a time to believe alive.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

A study in female bullshit lesson 3: It’s not about the money honey. I’m in love with you for you. Get the fuck out of here. (Comedy)

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Holy shit.

Alright go with me on this. What the fuck is wrong with admiting to a man I’m marrying you or hocking up with you because your a man of means.

A real man’s reaction isn’t offense. It’s action. “Fuck. I hope this table is strong enough to hold her weight.”

I just don’t get it.  All this undying love horse shit aside what’s wrong with saying to a dude, “You can protect me and put food on the mother fucking table.”

Not all society’s pretend in the undying forever romantic horse shit is even a factor in marriage or producing a child from a top grade male. Case and point the asian culture. Korea, Japan and big Daddy China.

I love South Korea in general for their culture, language and rich weird history. The weirdness being Kdramas.

The top tier male in a drama is a big dick handsome, genius CEO decended from mother fucking kings or the current nobility run by corporations. The top tier female is a often times the feminine gentle beauty queen that’s respectful and a submissive female who looks up to the dude as the man who can provide, protect and give her strong children. She is the fucking prize my dude and the bitch owns that shit.

Holy shit.

There is nothing that makes a man’s esteem raise high in worth when a top tier woman stops the female bullshit and tells him to his face. “Look my dude. I need a man with a big dick and huge wallet to crush my enemies. Congratulations you’ve captured me and I’m yours forever.”

What the fuck? Now a modern day female or bitch beta would be shocked and running from the room saying I can’t believe you would say that. No modern strong independent man would like to hear that.

Get the fuck out of here. When a real dude has reached the top and the top tier female presents a silver platter with the prenuptial contract signed and notarized and her panties on top. It ain’t an insult it’s fucking respect my dude for all your hard work and grinding and suffering and the fucking gamma gamma bitches trying to stop your grind to the top you get what you deserve. You get acknowledgement and respect in one moment.

A real dude takes that shit and throws that bitch over his shoulder and runs off with her living like a fucking king for the rest of his life keeping that bitch at home in a dress and bare foot every day.

Real talk. A top tier female would never raise her voice to her man but she would slap the shit out of any beta bitch that disrespects the man of her home.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

That time I took a fencing class…

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It was the turn of the century the beginning of a new decade. It was a time when the globe wars were in their infancy and the stable of GOP war hoes were in charge at the promission of cocain pimp Democrats.

It was the age of Bush and Dick.

In fall of a few years from when the war drums for 911 were sounded I took a class in the art and combat of fencing. A dream of mean for many years in my childhood. When I watched endless seasons of the Highlander and saw many a movie never was realizing I was taken the steps into my own legacy.

A tiny elf of undetermined years was my teacher in group of twenty nobles and high and low born. Her name was Lady S. Her silver blond hair glowed under the gym lights she only smiled a few times and had a scratchy voice of an ancient one of wisdom.

We were given school helmets and armor.  Foils would be our weapons for first of three. Foil, Epee and Saber.

We were instructed in the rules in general and warm ups. Foils have their own style and history as do many blades. The Saber came to be my favorite though I was mid way learner at best.

The weeks followed and pasted into spring. Out of the bunch two Black Rambos rained Supreme of us all in the three sword styles. We had a stage of combat and point of face off. The rules were simple but the strategy and exercise was intense.

Lancelot and John the good of Forest Park cousins from the house brovido.

The time came for the ending of the season. Lady S was old school of course so she told us that top grade of the class would go only to one. The winner of the final test. A tournament of styles.

We matched blades in sword styles of our choices. I beat three of my fellow students but was bested by Lancelot. Then came time for the final match. Lancelot faced off against his own blood John the good in a one on one match best out of three.

They’re blades clicked and smacked against each other and then it ended with one smack. John the good won by one point.

To celebrate Lady S ended the class in one last event a free brawl for all. What the fucking hell is that you might ask.

We started facing against each other swords banging and two on three combatants at a time. Some black rambo asshole kept coming up behind me and smacking the back of my helmet with his saber and that was the end my of trainning in the sword. I didn’t get to take off any heads that day but it was a fun time.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

An Ode to the lone Star state of shit kickers and check cashers

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How bitter sweet is the air I breath? Bitter with the scent of conflict and self induced continuous internal battles.

I was born in the highlands of East Baltimore. Raised well into adult age in comfort and contentment. My homeland I have not seen well beyond a fortnights time.

I came here a dreamer with nightmares in my eyes and haunted days of fear behind me. I am a bard of sorrows journey.

Then one morning I arrived in the land of the lone star shit kickers and saw ranchers leading horses across the fucking road and I thought.

Holy shit. What fuck kind a place did I arrive in?

I kid you not my dude. Fucking horses being led across the highway. Holy shit.

That shit was a sign. I had just stepped into the lone star state my dude.

My tale is unfolding. My growth is continuing. Two and half years in the pussy I was seems like a lifetime ago. In this strange place of rough and real traditions and history of bold and iron I find myself a man.

This place of shit kicking cowboys of puerto rican Cassinova charmers. This place.

The West. This place where comedy and rhythm formed in my mind and I laugh and I do grieve the parting of my youthful innocents and I do welcome the gusto and embracing of my own path to manhood. On the lone star roads my feet walk to rhythm.

The road of conflict. The road of a ride that just doesn’t end.

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg

Conflict and trial!? I vap that shit and it tastes like bubblegum cotton candy

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I grew up raised by a single mother. Enough said. I was a pussy for most of my life until shit got real and life decided to put me on front street and give me the shit test finally.

I stood in front of a hospital bed where my mother was dying of some shit I didn’t  understand. Fuck I still don’t understand to this day. One year ago she was healthy one year later I got to make plans for her fucking burial having to decide how much money I could spend and whether I could honor my ancestor’s wishes.

I couldn’t and the dishonor follows me like a demon today.

I learned a lesson that she couldn’t teach me in those months in my PSD hours when my own failures haunted me every waking hour. Life has it’s Joy’s and life has it’s series of shit tests.

I swam in pools of despair for months and then one mother fucking old G’s words in stilled in me the words to what I was learning.

“Life is conflict. Conflict is the air we breath and the water we swim in.

Get used to it. Embrace it and live for it because the ride doesn’t end.” – VD

That mother fucker spoke some real shit. He had been through some real shit. My spirit brother lite a fire in my ass.

It took a while to fully compute. Even now I’m still growing into the mindset.

My friends I ain’t telling you this shit to cry for me. You been through the shit test too. It’s what we do. Fuck despair and her bitch twin sister depression. Bitches didn’t do shit for me but try to suck me dry and stop me from planning my mother’s funeral and keeping me at a stand still when I had to move.

Fuck um. Fuck um both with a Iron rod no lube. I back hand those bitches now a days and put them in their fucking place under my boot and kissing my fucking toes.

I’m here to delight your day and make you life lighter at my silly ass. I find joy in that. Mere words can bless and provide warmth on a cold season in life and laughter for the soul sweet.

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg