I know a lot of you out there are looking for that Kourtney and Travis kinda love and I don’t blame you. That shit looks hot. It looks sweaty, sticky, icky and yummy. Like you can smell the worked over, beat up pussy and cum from outside their bedroom door. Ya, that love looks hawwt. We all want that kind of love, don’t we? Are we capable of it? Are we even open to being loved like that? Are you? Am I?
I don’t know if you beeoches have watched, “Til Death Do Us Part Kourtney and Travis” on Hulu yet. If you haven’t you should. With that said, not everyone is a Travis. There is no Prince in Africa that is going to send you money if you send him money first. There is no purchasing a truck on the internet and paying for it with gift cards. Duh, Kobyanne Margulies. That shit aint real. (Yes, again, I know aint aint a fucking word.)
There are a few other things that you all should be cautious about too. I say this because young and old fall for the shit. I’ve had friends, clients, now a grown ass foster kid and coworkers all fall prey to it. Kobyanne adult as fuck now but still dumb and needs guidance. And I know I shouldn’t call Kobyanne Margulies dumb, but then he shouldn’t do dumb shit. And he should listen to me when I tell him something like, “Oh that don’t look real. That looks fake. They gonna take your money dummy.” LOL, sorry – I’m just a truth teller.
Also dummies, if you are on someone like JLo’s feed (like me) or following some hot daddies on your feed (like me) and they message you back when you comment on their post, its not them. It’s never them. They bizzzy with their rich pretty lives. They may read your comment, most likely not, but they won’t comment on it. Well, there is that other hottie Ryan Reynolds. I think I read something or watched something that showed him responding to fans and it was all adorable and shit. He’s Yummmm too. Wouldn’t it be nice to see him, and Travis make out? In my fantasy they both get fucked.
I get so easily distracted. Unless you are messaging Ryan Reynolds you will not get a response. So, if you message some hot guy on facebook and they slide into your dms, think twice about it, double and triple check the name spelling and click on the profile make sure it takes you to the real profile (the one with all the followers), and never send bitcoin to anyone. They also never need to know the name of your first pet or the name of the first street you grew up on. That shit aint real.
If they are way famous and their name is Kourtney Kardashian and you comment to her post saying, “Gurrrl bravo bitch. Props to you gurrrl.” Then a, “Cortney Kardashian” messages you and says, “Hey, private message me here.” And then you do, DUMB! Your Cortney is going to end up taking you for a ride. And it’s a different ride than what the real Kourtney is probably giving that fine ass Travis right now. My point is Travis is hot… no my point is don’t be dumb. Look for differences and inconsistencies. (It also helps to weed out real friends from fake ones.)
I know I don’t do the hook up apps much, not great at it, but I don’t have to use it to know some of you are being Catfished like a motha’ fucker right now. I hear it from you guys, more often than I thought I would. And never, ever, ever have I been turned on by someone talking about bitcoin. Ew. If some stranger you don’t know if they are real or not is telling you to invest in something of theirs on an app or to transfer anything at all to them, it’s not real bitch. They are about to take yo’ money bitch and run. Save that for your real friends or loved ones, or yourself.
There is another side to that, I hear it is nice to have someone to talk to instead of not having anyone at all. (We will talk about loneliness in another post.). My response to that would be, I don’t think that’s better at all. I’ll wait until there’s an honest person on the other end. Honest, but still keeps our secrets kinda honest. I’d rather wait for that. If I’m dickstacted by a fake profile, and I have been before (guilty as fuck here too), then I’m not going to see the real Travis when he cums, I mean comes around. Use your other brains.
Another thing, stop clicking on everything you get sent in messenger, in your messages, or emails. Not all links have your best interest in mind. And stop being dumb and clicking on every, “Is this you?” link or “Guess who died” link you receive. Who the fuck cares if it’s you? And why would you surround yourself with people who would take a compromising picture of you that looks terrible and post it anyhow? I don’t want to be around people like that. I’ll wait for better friends. Trust me if it is really you in the picture you’ll hear about it in other ways. Your friends (if they are good ones), will let your ass know when something comes across their nosey screens- if they are good friends.
Also, if your cousin messages on you on facebook and asks for money through cash app, it’s probably not the real him. But that one time it actually was. How’d I come to that conclusion? How’d I figure out it was him? Glad you asked bitch, I’ll tell you. I asked follow up questions from our childhood. I asked about our shared memories. And it works every time; I’ve literally used it so many times. But that one time, it was really him and that bitch told me about myself and answered all my questions correctly. I love my cousin and if I was in a position to share I totally would.
Also, if you are old as fuck, not cute and a younger hot guy is hitting on you, well I respect the fuck out of an arrangement. Not everyone has daddy issues like me, some of them are just after your money and you are just after their young hot ass. Sounds like a great arrangement to me. I think everyone has a happy ending there.
Back to Travis, Travis is fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine as fuck! Fine as fuck in a scary kinda way. He looks like he might throw up a hail hitler sign as he’s hittin it from behind. I try to tell myself that I am not someone who subscribes to violence, but there are times a bitch has no other choice. Like when Kourtney’s sister Kim was robbed (cause now I watch and love the show), I think I would have grabbed everything within reach to hurt them back. That’s scary as fuck and my fight or flight response in that moment would be to fight.
Knowing I don’t like violence, Travis looks like he would have you or me, or I guess Kourtney pinned down in the Egyptian Hucklebuckle and then reach up his hand and choke a bitch just until she about to pass out, then he’d slowly release his hand. And then there’s a gasp for air, for Oxygen. Then I can see my lips, I mean Kourtney’s lips whisper, “Thank you.” That’s how hot he is. I want him to choke me just a little bit. One of my white friends said to me that he liked guys who look like they might kill him or beat him up. Now I get bitch.
And on the same note Kourtney is fucking hot too! She’s beautiful, banging everything, got the best clothes and things, a tight family, and has hottie like Travis. Although choking is consensual for Travis, you (Kourtney) don’t have my permission to choke me. I’ll brush your hair if you want, but you can’t choke me afterwards.
Again, I’m am not a lesbean and I don’t like violence. Ew. (Yes, I know I spelled lesbian wrong-duh). Fine, I’d be willing to brush her hair and try on some of your (her) clothes, and maybe some thigh high boots too. I do not attend clambake sales. I’m allergic to shellfish. Really any kinda fish that is a vagina.
Don’t get me wrong, your pussy, any pussy is safe with me. I’ll keep a good eye on from a distance. I’ll keep it safe for you. Like any man or woman can leave their wife with me knowing they will get that vagina back in the same condition as they left it. Like if it passed out, I’d put a blanket on it. Or I might put my feet next to it to keep them warm. Not like in it or touching, ew, just by it, like a warm fire. My feet get so cold. Point is vagina is icky and I respect the shit out of it as a whole. I just don’t want to ever go in that hole.
I’m getting distracted, the point of this story is to say don’t fall for the wrong, fake Travis. Fall for the real one when it comes along, you can wait for it if you want to. Always ask for a facetime chat if they want you to send them anything. Oh, he can’t facetime you right now? Then it’s fake bitch. Also don’t be so jaded, skeptical, and/or bitter that you miss out on the real Travis, Ryan, Rob or Paul as they come into your life. The last thing we want to do as newbies or new acquaintances is jump through more hoops than life has already given us. Don’t miss out on good people but it is good to be a bit skeptical.
Just don’t be dumb about any of the social media/electronic messages or profiles. If they ask you for money through any social media app or for you to make payment in untraceable gift cards don’t do it. Or even if they ask you to pay for a truck with gift cards (Koby)- don’t do it.
Ask another homo, does this look real? Chances are they got the same message too. There should be no shame about having HOPE. Don’t be shameful about HOPE or LOVE. Keep those things alive. Just don’t be dumb about it. If you have any questions or are second, third, fourth or fifth guessing yourself, ask the nearest homo. And you homos be nice when they ask, cause you know you bitches got the same messages and almost fell for it. These other bitches got blinded by HOPE and dick pics. I say this cause I too clicked, “Look who died” and “Is this you?” links like a dummy. And I’m also a bitch with HOPE and LOVE.
Thinking back, I don’t think I’ve ever had that kind of Kourtney Travis love, but I welcome it. Well, I welcome it mostly. I love all the PDA, Travis choking that bitch with your (his) tongue energy, and grabbing my, I mean her juicy ass and stuff. I just I don’t know if I can or want to be touched THAT much or be around someone THAT MUCH. I guess if it is the right person, it wouldn’t be as bad. They definitely look like they have the right person.
Them all over each other reminds me of my first crazy boyfriend. He was hot, wild, grungy, and a whore with abs. We used to fuck like bunnies all the time. Like I imagine, envisioning, Kourtney and Travis do. (Totally picturing my face over Kourntey’s body right now in my bubble thoughts.)
The first love was an introduction to getting fucked (in so many ways) and my first introduction to Bipolar I Disorder. Next to his crazy cheating ass (that I loooved), I think the only time I’ve ever felt like someone loves me that deeply was with Ron. He always looks at me like I’m something special. Like I matter, like he loves me. With longing in his eyes. I always smack his hand and say no Ron, no. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ron. I just don’t LOVE/LOVE Rhonda Rae, she’s my sister family friend. I want someone like Travis to look at me like Ron does.
And although Kourtney and Travis being all over each other all the time is disgusting, it’s also deliciously beautiful. I’m so happy for them or anyone that truly finds their person. I hope I find my person or persons. I don’t know, I’m open to suggestions. I also hope you find your person too, if you haven’t already. Just remember I want a Travis look-alike that makes Ron eyes at me. Well maybe not quite like Travis, maybe a little bit older. Maybe an older Travis Daddy, yum.
Whether I find him or not, I want the rest of you to be cautious out there in your journeys. Maybe not as cautious as I am. Sometimes, I annoy myself with how cautious I am in one minute and then in another minute I’m not cautious at all. Then hyper cautious the next day and rinse, cum on it, wash and repeat. I hope to find my happy median cause I drive myself nuts with it sometimes. It’s hard to let go of shame and not pick it back up. Many of us are works in progress, but that’s what life is, right? In the meantimes, I hope this KourtLee finds his Hot (older than me) Travis Daddy that annoyingly touches me too much like the rock star Travis.
Don’t be dumb bitches, if its too good to be true, like an email saying, “You won an I phone” or “You won a gift certificate to Lowes” (Homos love Lowes, I almost fell for that one), or “Click here for your free anything at all”, than it’s too good to be true. Don’t click shit before looking at it, and no you didn’t win shit. And if the actual email address is different when you hover over it with your curser (while not clicking it) and it shows a different name, then it’s fake.
Some advice from a single homo, take it in the butt or leave it.
Always With Love,
The Happy Homo
(And a Happy Kourtney too cause that bitch looks haaaaaappy! And I say good for you gurrrl! Good for you!)
PS I took down the Part I and II of the “I May Not Know My Flowers” stories I posted before, but it’s only temporarily. I’m no stranger to the rich white man oppression. I just never envisioned it’d be a Rich Gay White Man doing the oppressing here. I’m from Utah- I’m used to oppression. I have a lifetime of it. I still have a voice. And I still will use it to speak truth to things. Cause, I’m a truth teller. (Except if we make plans, I may have to cancel them because I changed my mind about going. But it really was the truth, at that moment you asked me. In that moment I wanted to go. Or if I say I will call you back. Bitch, I don’t mean right away. I may mean next month, next week, I’m not sure but I will call you back. I usually don’t mean in an hour or two.)
PSS I may change the way I end my phone calls to “Let’s talk later.” There’s no timeline or expectations in that.
PSSS With regards to not knowing my flowers and all that jazz. A few people have been told, “be careful they have more money than you.” Duh. “Think about your future.” “Don’t you want a future?” and “You have to live here is that wise?” Well, I didn’t come here to live in someone else’s set of parameters, except for the law. Hats off you guys, I follow da law. I didn’t use to, but back then I had so fewer choices.
PSSSS Maybe, Palm Springs won’t be for me after all? If I have to be scared to tell the truth because some will make it so I can’t earn a living here or redline people, maybe this place isn’t for me. I don’t like oppression and if our own people are doing the oppressing than there’s an issue. The issue is an American one, even right here in our own backyards. Time will tell if PS is my home, I’ll just tell the god damn truth. I do love PS, I really do. I love what I thought was true freedom here. I hope I’m wrong about the oppression part cause people should never be afraid to use their voice.
PSx5 Setting some Kourtney and Travis kinda love goals, only with a kit less touching. Unless you are Drew Barrymore, don’t touch me that much, but just enough.
PSx6 Please say prayer for Ron. We both got covid and he’s going through it right now. Positive energy, and love sent his way please? Pray that the covid medication works well for him too, cause he’s old as fuck and I’m worried about him.
PSx7 I wrote this having covid, on covid meds, green tea, and a gummy. It might not all make sense and that’s why. And not everything has to make sense to everybody. But then again, who knows if anyone is even reading this? I think it’s way more for my own mental health and happiness than anything. It mostly brings me joy to write.
PSx8 I feel like my tv screen still smells like Sasha Kolby pussy. I watched it so much it stained my tv.
PSx9 Can’t wait for the new Kardashians season to start on Hulu. Yes, bitch I tots watch. I love watching people chase and achieve their dreams and heart desires with their family at their side. I love it. I wish all families were like that all of the time.
PSx10 The Kourtney Travis show also hinted at how scary a rich famous life can be. So many people grabbing, asking, and snapping pictures all at the same time that you get separated from your family or lose sight of your kids for two seconds. That’s scary stuff. They should have the best bodyguards for every last one of them. Photographers…other people are very demanding of people don’t really know. I don’t know if I’d be a Kardashian or more like a Bjork or Naomi Campbell kinda bitch if I were famous. I’d definitely keep a harassing photographer asking themselves, “Is this a good idea?” I have no interest in being famous like that. Maybe known for a kid’s book or something but not famous like that. I’d be Naomi Cambell’ing bitches left and right. Again, I don’t subscribe to violence, unless Travis wants to choke me a little.
PSx11 Happy Cinco de Mayo bitches.
PSx12 I feel like shit and I’m worried about Ron so I don’t know what else to do than write and find humor in life. Writing and humor are my ways of processing and coping with hard shit. And this hasn’t been proof read yet. Meh.
