Be raw. Be open. Be fucking real. Because the last thing this world needs is more fake ass shit.

Life’s become mildly monotonous. 

Get up, get radiated, get back in my bed, repeat.  I’m perpetually exhausted and boregasmed out of my tiny half brain.

So I had blog writers block.

But then something mildly entertaining happened.

Driving to radiation, which incidentally takes forever, and is never that boring because M drives like Lewis Hamilton on crack.

We were on the freeway or highway or whatever it is Americans call a dual carriageway and were waiting at red lights. 

Next thing we know, wham fucking bam.  

Assmonkey on his phone rear-ends us. 

Under normal circumstances I would’ve got out and thrown the customary profanities at him. 

But this is America and you never know who’s holstering a firearm. 

Not only that but I knocked my head so hard the shock caused me to hyperventilate and nearly pass out. 

I’ve become a blithering mess. Very disappointed in myself. 

M called 911 and the Fuzz arrived in a flash of flashing lights. 

And goddamn was it my lucky day. 

He wasn’t just any old smokey bear… He was a super sexy spine-tingling state trooper.  Tall, dark and hot as hell.  

He was also wearing an exceptionally commanding uniform with a shiny star shaped badge, while completing this sex god/Village People look with a pair of gold-rimmed aviators.  Oh and he had an incredibly large…  Weapon. 

He saw me as a maiden in distress and instantly his heart melted and he was head-over-heels in love with me.  I could tell.  The only thing between us was M.

Fiddlesticks!

I wondered if he’d come round to the passenger door and rescue me like that scene in An Officer and a Gentleman… Sadly not.

M was thinking on his feet though…  He played the brain tumour card… And said ‘Look, my wife’s got a brain tumour and we’re on our way to an extremely urgent appointment’.

Instantly I thought OMFG he’s going to flash his lights and give us an escort to the hospital… Sadly not.

But I’m sure he did wink at me at least twice.  

He asked for my full name and date of birth but unfortunately not my phone number.  Maybe my age put him off.

We said farewell minus a bumper and number plate and made a dash to radiation leaving hot cop to cuff the thundercunt who was clearly buffing his banana and watching porn on his phone whilst driving.

Trying to figure out how not to look like a twat in a headscarf. Luckily my fabulous guru sent me this beaut.
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4 thoughts on “Be raw. Be open. Be fucking real. Because the last thing this world needs is more fake ass shit.

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