Her name is Louise Redknapp. She was a British popstar and now she is 35, married to some pro soccer player and has a career in media doing all kinds of shit from being the face of various companies, to being the host of various shitty TV shows, to starting up her own magazine, to getting down to her underwear and showing off her big fake lookin’ tits that got her where she is today…and I appreciate the fact that she hasn’t let her success thanks to strategic marriage or her husband’s money snuff out the inner whore in her….

I had been dating (ie: sleeping with) this guy on and off who was a drug dealer, but not the fun kind of drug dealer who is is the life of the party and gives me free shit, the kind who is cranky and just talks about money and how to get money and never gives you deals on anything cause he’s a cheap bastard. I liked him tho, and we had great sex, so I kept him in rotation with my other 3-4 regulars I have for during dry spells. He came over the other day to tell me he didn’t want to see me anymore cause he doesn’t like that I do drugs. I argued with him for an hour or so about the fact that he is a fucking hypocrite, which he didn’t seem to like so much. I mean I like to get high, I will admit that, but crackhead I am not. His reasoning seemed to be that he was concerned I was “hurting myself”, yet he has no problems hurting other people he does or doesn’t know, for large profit no less. I supposed it’s okay to kill people slowly, provided you just don’t have to watch them die directly in front of you.

He said he still wants to “hang out” and “watch movies” he just doesn’t want to be “intimate” which is going to be a problem, because I’m pretty much only interested in dirty fucking, straight up, and not some cry baby talking about their feelings over lunch and movies.

Here’s Louise Redknapp

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez