Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

August 8, 2014

You couldn’t fucking make it up

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 4:49 pm

I try, really hard, to not write anything that personally identifies anyone, I don’t mean just leaving out names and addresses, I mean trying to write in such a way that even if the person who was the actual subject of what I was writing about read the post, they wouldn’t be absolutely sure it was them that was being talked about, assuming of course they did not know that I wrote the post itself.

Sometime, though, meh, what the fuck, you just can’t, because you’ll lose too much of what was the story, and this is one such time.

So, there is this skank, and I was banging it regular for a while, and her being a total slut, the sex itself was damn good, what was interesting was that the time in between fucking, she was easy enough to hang with too, the only fly in that ointment was the observation that if I had no problems at all with the bitch during the time we were together, and I don’t mean together as an item, I mean together as in physical proximity of a few metres or less, when we were apart, well, lets just say, if you were involved with it, your life would be a fucking nightmare filled with angst and anxiety.article-2439231-18671D2500000578-895_634x370

So anyway, in a bid to get better access to a good dirty fuck (she lived some distance away at that time) I suggested she considered moving a lot nearer to me, and by nearer I mean as in less than a mile or two away, not nearer as in cohabiting, which coinkydinkally, and quite truthfully, would have also represented a *significant* improvement in standard of living and lifestyle, both for her, and her kids, where she was was, and probably still is, is an employment sinkhole, here there are prospects, and even the roughest areas here are simply no comparison to “normal” there.

She was all keen, but bailed, there were various reasons given why, some of them may even be true.

Fast forwards a year, she is now living in a fucking tent on a camp-site, and has been for some time, and only going home to use the bath, washing machine and other facilities, why? Well it seems the new neighbours from hell, and daily visits from the po-lice and soshul werkers, and constant fights and shouting and screaming and shit, hell, I dunno the details, but you bet your ass there is alcohol and drug use in there too, all this has conspired to the point where she can’t face going “home”.. not that any of the homes there are owned, it’s a sinkhole estate, so they are all rented, heavy doses of single mums with the same stories about allegedly abusive ex’s and so on.

Hey, I guess loitering within tent is one step up from living in your fucking car, and don’t get me wrong, I have not only done both, there have been times I’d have prayed for a car to sleep in.

No, what I can’t get my head around, is that despite the whole thing being so fucking predictable, you live in a sinkhole ghetto and they *will* fucking drag you down, or burn you out, there are no other options, blend in and swirl down the U bend, or stay above it and get burned out, so despite all the inevitability, there she is, a fucking year later, and while a year ago you could have argued something along the lines of a bird in the hand being worth two in the bush, even if the bird in the hand was a house on a sinkhole estate, and the two in the bush was a possible better future elsewhere…

but a year later, you can’t, your bird in the hand died of avian flu, and the rotting corpse has become so noxious you’re now living in a fucking tent, hey, it’s August, that shit still flies, just.. you and the Ukrainians was just waiting for winter to set in hey…

you’d think, the skank would have been camped on my doorstep, living in her car parked in the local Tesco around the corner, hoping to convince me to perhaps dig up the interred corpse of the offer / suggestion I made last year, though of course her negotiating position, she ain’t exactly as “strong” as it was a year ago…

you’d think… but oh no…

I just thought it was so appropriate, hot on the heels of the creature type A and creature type B post made this morning, here is an elemental example of a type A, mould is set, die is cast, this leopard ain’t changing its spots this side of the grave.

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