Dear diary,
It's been a rough week in hoogerland.
These two dueche bags keep stirring shit up on the board, invoking my inner batshityness making my "crazy" show...Running off my potential clientz. They make a mf hooka tired. Between them and the mamasans getting busted, I don't think I should take ANY fbsm appointments. Because for sure they are ALL cops AFTER lil ole' independent ME! Too paranoid to work, I just turned ALL my appointments away. This hooga here put her vajayjay on vacay till the coast was clear. Speaking of cops, Diary, remember that time you boned that trooper with his uniform still on? Okay his uniform was half on. The rest of him was getting off. Anyway... I wanna do that again, but this time the officer would be "busting" me and ole' "one eye" for skippin' round the track too late on a Friday .
I beg Mr.Officer not to take me in, but he puts me in the back of the cop car with the cuffs on real tight. In my bes ghetto voice, " Oooohh Dayum dis mf rightchere says K9 unit. Dazyum. I'm finna show dis mf rightchere wut doggy style really mean!" Ummmhmmm.
I switch it up on his ass. Next thing he knows I gots his uniform half on, he's in MY fuzzy wuzzy pink cuffs. I gots my whistle blowing and he's screaming, "Okay TIO. Uncle. I'll sing it for you again...bigdickbitch.com bigdickbitch."
I tell em' say my name bitch. Then he starts in, "Oooh mami,TIO! Yes!! Yes!! Yes!!!" And that's called... When Da Cop Callz...