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So here I sit, at another random bar, hoping to find the couple that will get me through another month of scraping by. Lots of different folks here, a range of ages, and body types.

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The best sellers are always the young, slim, attractive couples that can be seen clearly. Obviously in my profession, a blurry or obscured view of even the most gorgeous person, doesn't sell for shit, so I would rather get a nice clear voyeur vid of a less attractive couple, because let's face it, no one wants to wank it to a blurry, plant blocked, dark vid of good looking people they can't see.

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The first couple that hooked up was fantastic, and I knew they would turn out to be too good to be true, and so the case was. I followed them to a nearby Hotel, of course as is my luck, all the windows and curtains were closed.

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Back to the bar to scout some more. Another couple, who look to young to even drink head off to do what most people are here for ... Read more ...

Why not? 

WAAA WAAA WAAA WAAA WAAA WAAA

That's the sound my alarm makes when it feels that I should be yanked from my slumber.  It sits across the bedroom taunting me with its yell until I am forced to get up and go interact with it.  I get to the little DamnYou! box and I am faced with a decision hit the big SNOOZE button and be granted 9 more minutes of rest, or wake up for good.

I make the decision and re-set the alarm for 5:30am, the time my wife needs to wake up.

I make my way downstairs where the aroma of coffee fills the lower half of our house like a glorious fog of alertness.  Not Folgers or any other Commercial Worthy coffee, but the CostCo brand, Kirkland I believe it ... Read more ...

Seriously... WTF?  I can't seem to write for shit anymore, I have no fucking clue why, and I am not sure what to do about it if anything...

If I had a muse, that bitch took off... or is cheating on me, or is hospitalized with the swine aids.  Not sure, but I have this shitty feeling that no matter what I try to pen out or type up, it will have no feeling behind it...

Usually I have something to inspire me.  Now don't get me wrong, I still have some beautiful gems in my life that are worthy of talking about, but my stupid ass can't seem to get anything flowing... Like a mental tampon is stuck between my cerebellum and medula oblongata... and do not bother correcting my medical inaccuracies or spelling, as I truly do not give a cock.

I can't even bring myself to really read all the blogs anymore... Usually something I read within 5 or 6 blogs (plus comments) will spark an idea, but NADA... nothing comes....

I can barely comment ... Read more ...

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Part 1:  http://www.ebaumsworld.com/user/blog/hunterdad/view=80559114/

Part 2:  http://www.ebaumsworld.com/user/blog/hunterdad/view=80559148/

continued...

Chapter 3

The midsummer heat in Phoenix Arizona can reach as high as 120 degrees for days, or even weeks at a time.  This kind of heat is strong enough to shut down airports, and make electric bills soar.

The high temperatures never bothered Nadeesh, being from a land where luxuries like air conditioning were not as common as they are here in the Americas, which is another reason he struggled so hard to move his family out here, where they could have a better chance at thriving, and providing for their children.  Though he misses his home town of Hyderabad, located in the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh, he starts each day with thanks, to those who have helped him bring to pass his attempt at the American dream...< ... Read more ...

...Sitting in the passenger seat of her newly acquired Ford Focus, she stares out into the night... waiting, sipping, patiently.

If nothing else, her abusive family taught her patience. Taught her that with enough time, anything can come to pass. With time, a well thought out plan can be realised and carried out, and with a little patience, even the shittiest of parents can be made to burn alive, screaming in their bed. Throw in a little bit of genius, and it can be made to look like an accident...

That was her first killing, at the tender age of 13. The people whom God had granted the responsibilty of raising her, did a piss poor job of it and in turn, created a monster. A monster that would be the death of them, literally.

Now she sits in this stolen car waiting for her prey...

Alone, she bends over and finishes lacing up her boots, which is easier carried out in the passenger seat, without the hinderance of the st ... Read more ...