I have to go to the doctor tomorrow so the posts may start a little later then usual and no, it isn’t the same itching and burning you have been having (you REALLY need to get that checked out) I know 5 of the 6 people reading this are unemployed anyways and don’t get up until noon, but I thought I would do you the courtesy of letting you know, cause I’m nice like that.

Fatass is coming back next week, and I can’t decide if I’m happy or not. The beer in our house seems to last a lot fucking longer, and all of the sudden there is an abundace of food as well. I do miss him tho, and I think this blogging thing has brought us closer together. Hopefully he keeps me working on the site as a part time correspondent, cause I’m sure some of you virgins out there get excited knowing there is a female around, instead of just some fat, impotent middle aged guy.

Here’s todays links, click them and make a wish!

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

My best friend is this guy from the Bahamas who grew up here in Montreal and went to an all white private boarding school on a Math scholarship. He has, out of anyone I know, experienced an obscene amount of racism and still does to this day at times (hes a computer programmer).

One thing being his friend made me realize is how all those assholes who think racism went out the door with slvery, or when black people got the vote, or didn’t have to ride the back of the bus anymore are fukking fooling themselves. People these days are just as fucking racist against blacks or mexicans or arabs or fucking whoever, they just aren’t as vocal about it. Which in the end makes it okay to them. “It’s okay if we call the kid down the street a fucking towel head, just don’t do it in front of him.” Fuck You.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

Young girls like Hayden Panettiere become wank fantasies for guys like you because they are young, and therefore you will also assume, easy. Unlike women the your own age, who have standards when it comes to men , young girls like Hayden will overlook the fact that you live with your mom in your childhood bedroom and work at Burger King. They are also really impressed that you own any sort of car, no matter how big a piece of shit it is.

Then you see her picking her wedgie and licking her hand after and realize that even you have standards and your precious fantasies have yet again been crushed by the reality of life, loser.

When I was a little kid, we would drive 7 hours north to a lake that had only a few feet of water during the great late 80′s California drought. My grandparents lived up there for a while because lakes with no water have cheap property. What I remember best is this hick named “Blaze.” Blaze lived in a trailer down the hill and had a ravine filled with over a thousand beer cans–his own homemade landfill. Us kids liked to go down and play at Blaze’s because he let us swim in this huge metal drum he filled with water. Our parents would compaire shotguns while we bobbed in 3 feet of liquid rust. If you had to pee, Blaze had an authentic outhouse, and the walls were papered with porn. I never looked down inside the hole in the seat–the smell of years of piled-up shit was enough to fulfill my curiosity. Blaze always seemed to have a new wife every time we visited. One was fat and jolly. One was oily and petite. Another was thin and liked to paint animal skulls. My uncle recently told me that they found out Blaze had died, and that he had been a pimp. I wonder how many “wives” he buried beneath those beer cans out back…

Here is Amy Adams at the “Underdog” premier last night. She has great cleavage and is as cute as a motherfucking button. As a child, I’m sure Amy Adams never swam in a big barrel of tetanus in the yard of a hillbilly pimp, and she never grew up to have an angry Turkish pimp. For these reasons, along with the red hair, I want to be her. So I present you with her cleavage. Now go wallpaper your bathroom with porn.

Obediently yours,
Sugar Nell (ex-hooker, friend of Jesus)

EMAIL ME HERE

My friend just broke up with his girlfriend so I’m supposed to go out for a beer with him this afternoon. It was one of those situations where no matter what he did nothing was good enough for her. He would take this bitch shopping at Burberry and Gucci and all those other overpriced bullshit stores and then they would get home and she would tell him what a useless motherfucker he was etc. I fucking hated her anyways so I’m kind like whatever.

He was also a drug dealer for a long time, and made as much money in 1 month as you probably so in 6, but stopped because she was all like “I love you and I don’t want you to go to jail.” etc. Then when the money stopped rolling in and he couldn’t take her ass out for $400 dinner and wine anymore, it turned into “You are a useless piece of shit.” etc.

I always thought she was a stupid ugly bitch with no fucking brain anyways so I’m pretty happy to be honest cause this means I don’t even have to speak to her again, and I can ignore her when I see her from now on.

He was fucking so many other girls while he was with her, that I think this whole “I’m going to miss her thing” is such bullshit. I don’t think he’s going to miss her, I think he’s going to miss fucking her in the ass and fisting her while taking pictures. Pictures which, by the way, I suggested he make copies of and post around her hood for revenge, that’s another story tho.

Here’s Elisabetta Canalis. When I first saw these pics, I thought they were nip slips, but upon closer inspection realized I was wrong. I figured I would post them anyways, since I know you are a virgin and this is probably the closest thing you will get to see to a tit this week, except for when you’re spying on your sister when she showers.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

I drove back to LA from San Diego Monday morning for my last “pay-date” with WR. Things were awkward after I left fingernail imprints on his balls and messed up his back in a fit of angry sex Friday night. So I wasn’t sure what to expect for our last tryst, or what the tone would be, or if he would be able smell that blonde-virgin i slammed Saturday night (men are animals after all).

WR came to the hotel a little skittish. He gave me a Tiffany silver chain bracelet with a heart. You know, that crap every 13 year old girl from Long Island gets before her Bahtmitzvah. Hi, what the fuck? Do I look like a barely pubescent JAP? I’m sure his bitch girlfriend gets gold and rocks. I am smelting that shit down as soon as I get home.

Long story short, I let him know I was calling the shots. I told him he could bend me over the balcony off my room until I got tired, and then we could fuck in the bed. He complied. I bit his nipples, hard. He liked it. I allowed him to sleep with his head nuzzled between my tits. When I awoke, WR was gone and a check filled his place…

I don’t think WR will offer a cross the country money-fuck again, but if he does, I won’t do it. I’m no longer an emotionally cut-off teen-hooker. Sugar Nell’s all grown-up, and won’t take orders from cunts, which makes for a pretty poor prostitute, but an excellent bar slut and back-alley bang.

I am too tired from sliding up and down several cocks across Southern California to connect these pics of Elizabeth Berkeley (Showgirls) to the end of my affair with old trick WR. But here she is recently in a Bikini, looking like an Amazon. She’s got back, and by the time you finish reading this post, I will be back in NY ready again to choose who I fuck and how I fuck them, and all you douches need to do is water me with drinks.

Obediently yours,
Sugar Nell (ex-hooker, friend of Jesus)

EMAIL ME HERE

I quit my job at Dairy Queen last night, which is okay with me in the end, cause it was pretty shitty. They asked me to clean out some fucking garbage thing at the back and I got the new kid to do it instead, which I thought was delegating and showed leadership. My boss didn’t agree.

In addition, I had been pretty much showing up late everyday for the last month, reeking of booze most of the time. I would sit in the back alley talking on my cell phone while the manager was out in his car getting blowjobs from the jailbait girls who stop in to get Blizzards. Free ice cream goes a long way. It had gotten to the point where I couldn’t have possibly stole more shit or fucked up things anymore then I already had. The only upsetting thing is that I had developed an excellent way to skim off the top from the cash register, which made the job, shitty as it was, pretty fucking lucrative on a good day.

Still I think I’m getting a bit to old for that gig anyways. All good things some to and end I guess and there comes a time when you know you have to let the past go, move on and live in the present. Kind of like Madonna here, who needs to realize that she is not fucking 18 anymore and that she is, in fact, a borderline senior citizen.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

I’ve been trying to figure out to do in regards to this guy I have been dating on and off for the last little while. He’s alright and I like him, but I tend to get cold feet around the 2-3 month mark, because I like to have the option to just go fuck who ever I want to, when I want to (cause I’m a bit of a whore like that) and most guys just don’t understand that. They usually pretend like they are fine with it for the first little while, then all the sudden we have to start “talking” about things and the “future”. My future goes as far as what am I going to eat for dinner, and am I going to the bar tonight?

He also developed this annoying fucking habit of calling me all these cutesy names which I guess are some sort of terms of affection, but I don’t stay in relationships long enough to usually experience this type of shit.

This guy I know, a good friend and a self confirmed life-long bachelor, is telling me to get the fuck out and get the fuck out NOW. Unfortunately, this isn’t as easy as my one night stands, where I can just climb out the fire escape to freedom and never look back, my hair blowing in the wind. I made the mistake of not only giving him my phone number, but showing him where I live. Fuck.

Here’s Sophie Anderton. She understands where I’m coming from.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

My ex called me and told me he is coming into town for the weekend and asked if he could stay with me for a few days. We had the the most crazy animal sex I have ever had in my life when we were together. Everyguy I have slept with since has pretty much been a let down, so it is pretty much granted that we are going to fuck if he comes here.

Im usually against having sex with exs, especially if they broke up with me (as is the case with this dude) I’m not interested in dating him anymore, but if there is one thing and one thing alone I miss about him, its letting him fuck the shit out of me for hours.

To top it off I have been working on this site way to much, and watching way too much god damned porn. I need to be dealt with properly by someone who knows how to do it. Needless to say I’m in quite the dilemma over here. What do you guys think?

Click these links in the meantime, ad make me smile….

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

I don’t think I am ever going to have kids, mostly because the though of something growing inside me makes me want to throw up all over my keyboard, but if I did I would keep such a fucking short leash on them, they would hate me forever. And when old dudes at the park came up to them and gave them bottled water, I would spray them with my pepper spray and kick them while they were down.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

I really just don’t even know what to say this. Wow….just…wow.

I read that her new “video” cost $30 000 of her own money, which by today’s standards of videos and how much they cost, is the equivalent of shooting it on a fucking Sony Handicam. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gave Sean Preston some scissors and tape to edit the fucking thing.

I honestly can’t wait to hear the song and watch this piece of shit and yell at the TV. I’m getting giddy just thinking about it!!

My keeper (he’s been bankrolling my box) sent me alone on a weekend break from my paid vacation to LA. I spent it in San Diego because I like their beaches better than LA’s. Also, since I live in NY, I can’t afford to go to the Hamptons because sand and surf is for rich trust-fund fuckers and the cunts that spit them out, so San Diego was like a 48 hour beach-gasm.

I blacked out after getting drunk in the Gaslight District. I woke up in some blonde tattooed guy’s bed (not into blondes or tattoos). This happens alot. I patted myself on the back though because what i could see of his body was slender but toned and his face was cute. As I quietly gathered my clothes, I noticed a cape, helmet, and what can only be described as super-hero accessories in the corner.

Yeah… I fucked one of the virgin-basement dwellers in town for the Comic Convention. Good news for you: I might have fucked one of you readers. Bad news for you: by the time you get home, your mom will have turned your basement pad into a sewing room and moved your cum-stained mattress into the garage. You won’t care because you have a bunch of new shiny whatever-Man comics to read in between jacking off to these topless pictures of Amy Alexandra from UK Big Brother 8. Just don’t get your man-milk all over your new merchandise because it will decrease its value. No ebay buyer will want to pay $300 for your soiled comic book in 15 years.

Which ever one of you I fucked, kudos for breaking the mold: you were neither fat nor busted, rather svelt I might say. I don’t know how good you were, because I don’t remember.

Obediently yours,
Sugar Nell (ex-hooker, friend of Jesus)

EMAIL ME HERE

I get pretty sick of posting stars in bikini’s by the pool all day sometimes, because it pretty much makes me hate every last one of them.

I haven’t been in a pool in a few years now that I think about it. There’s public pools around but the thought of all the 4 year olds pissing and then swimming around in their own piss while they put water in their mouths to spit it at their friends pretty much makes me want to puke.

Since I’m not ten anymore, I don’t have a kid I can pretend to be friends with in order to swim in his pool (man those were the days!!!), and since most people generally annoy the hell out of me anyways, I don’t think I would do a very good job at pretending. Maybe I’ll just put on my bikini and sit in the bathtub.

I don’t know who Nell McAndrew is, but she is in the sun, by the pool, in a bikini, which means if I know anything, it’s that I hate her already.

Hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

One thing Julien, our Token Gay Blogger, and I have always bonded on is that we both came from shitty homes with no money and even less morals and values. That being said, we love who we are, don’t deny it for a minute. Seriously, we wouldn’t change a thing. Okay maybe the money part.

This is what Jaime Pressly chose to wear on her birthday, which goes to show that no matter what happens, people never change. I don’t care how many fucking Emmy nominations she gets, she is and will always remain a white trash slut.

Now, I’m just as whorish as she is. You know that old STD slogan that goes something like “you’re not just having sex with that person but with everyone that they’ve ever been with”. If that’s true, if you have sex with me your pretty much just fucked 3/4 of the gays in the metropolitan area. Having sex with me is pretty much the equivalent of picking up a half-eaten burger on the street and finishing it. I’m that used. And hey, I’m also fairly trashy. I come from the kind of household were Cool Ranch Doritios are fancy hors d’oeuvres and Miracle Whip is used as salad dressing.

But ultimately I am superior to her because the difference between me and Jaime is that while I am self-proclaimed white trash slut, I don’t fucking flaunt it. I’m not going to wear a fishnet bodysuit with a big whole in the butt cheek and makeup that makes me look like a Cuban hooker. Everyone knows that I’m trashy; I don’t have to rub it in their faces. Sometimes subtlety goes a long way.

I know saying this to somebody who was in the movie Joe Dirt is pointless, but Jaime, for the love of god, have a little class.

Smooch!

Julien

Recap: Old client WR flew me to LA for his 50th to nail me for cash. WR puts me up in a hotel, which is weird since I slept over in my hooker days. He hurriedly shows me his Brentwood estate, avoiding the bedroom. I ask for a glass of water. Maybe we can do a quick slam over the breakfast table? My gift to him: I’m generous like that. I hop up on the kitchen counter, flashing some panty. WR keeps his distance. I notice a pad by the phone with a number and a restaurant scribbled in frilly female writing (?).

I’m not invited to the birthday bash, but he’ll pick me up later… It’s 3:30 am and he’s finally fucking me bent over the rail of his boat in Marina del Rey. I’m staring into the dark water while he pinches my nipples. Realization: I am a kept woman. I am not in control. I cut him off, grab his balls and confront… Cunt is dating a gold-digger bent on killing my plan of him dying childless/ alone from his cholesterol issue. I don’t want to marry the douche, I just want to be the hot piece he remembers while writing his will in between strokes.

I squeeze his balls harder, angry: the contact we kept over the years was a waste. He’s not the lonely twat I knew. He’s about to nest. I’m the lonely one now, making out in bars with guys who buy me drinks. I hate him… So I push him to the deck and savagely bone him in ways his new princess never will… I come hard and he pinches a nerve in his back… In the car, he tells me I can have the weekend off, but to be on call Monday night. So I went to San Diego and did the only thing a kept woman at the end of the line can do: spend the weekend slut’n it up in a bar.

Here is Kendra Wilkinson slut’n it up in a bar in Chicago Friday night because she is a kept woman playing second fiddle to Hef’s obvious favorite girlfriend, Holly Madison. Like mine, her days are numbered. I feel her pain. Not really. She is busted in the face and dumber than dirt.

Obediently yours,
Sugar Nell (ex-hooker, friend of Jesus)

EMAIL ME HERE