Hell is other people.

My landlady left me a note saying I had to pay my balance of eighty dollars by today or I'll be evicted. Despite how much I loathe that whorecunt I call a mother, I called her today to see if she could hook me up with two-hundred dollars...

Of course, she was completely drunk when I called her at eleven AM. I could practically feel her spraying me with Club 500 gin through the receiver. I gave up after ten minutes of incoherent conversation.

But, seeing as I'm unemployed, I went over to her house anyway; a dilapidated shotgun shack in the middle of Mexicantown that she'd been living in ever since she burned down our last house by falling asleep with a Newport in her mouth. The back door is unlocked. This place has got to be like an ATM machine for every beaner in this neighborhood.

I call out for mom, but of course she's passed out on the couch with one of those court shows on; one of those shows she looks pathetic enough to guest on.

I go into her bedroom and look in her dresser where she keeps her cash. There's about a hundred and ninety left in there from the first of the month and I take it all. I search the whole thing and end up in her underwear drawer and shudder with the recognition of the trauma of childhood. I spit in her underwear drawer till my mouth is dry, then upzip my pants and urinate all over the pink parachutes she calls panties. I still quake with rage as I leave her shitty little house.

I go home. I pay off my landlord and blow of her "This is the last time, Peter..." threats. I hit the store and buy a couple weeks worth of groceries, enough to get to when my unemployment kicks in, hopefully. I have about fifty bucks left.

Most losers would drink their money away. While I can and do drink, I couldn't justify going to a bar right now. I need to bust a nut though. Fifty bucks isn't enough to get a call girl, but maybe a streetwalker.

I get in my Dodge and drive around the local pussy stank market. The cops have been out busting girls and it's cold out. The only girl is this black crackhead with gray skin who said her name is "Laqueesha" or something. She said she'd take twenty dollars if I let her take her back to my apartment and have her blow me.

My place still looks and smells like shit, but I'm not really bothered since this is a crackho. I usually don't consort with Negresses, but I figure if I close my eyes, I can pretend that she's white.

I sit her down on my couch and go to the bathroom and pull out my special buttplug. It's got these special bumps and ridges that fit my prostate perfectly. It looks like a big neon pink artichoke. I learned this trick years ago, and it makes the orgasm much more intense.

However, it is also insanely big. It takes a lot of lube and time for me to relax my anus enough to fit it inside. The first couple of tries don't work; it felt like my asshole was being torn apart goatse style. I lube up the plug even more. After ten minutes, I was able to jam it in far enough to get some loose beige shit on it (my diet has been atrocious lately), but still no aniss.

After working it for maybe fifteen minutes I finally got it to pop into my sphincter. I gasped and it took a second to take in all the pain and pleasure at once. It stiffened my cock up more than twenty pills of viagra could ever. Once I got ahold of myself, I stepped out to let the love begin.

"Laqueesha" apparently wasn't that patient because Laqueesha had taken off. I knew I shouldn't have given that bitch the money in advance. Not only that, but she'd also taken my bowl of change off the coffee table, my portable CD player, and my Gamecube. I plop down on the couch and jerk myself off bitterly, thinking about how I'm gonna hunt that bitch down and ram all the crack she's inevitably going to buy with my goods down her throat at once. Hopefully it'll make her OD.

I ejaculate and wipe my come against the arm of the couch (which is becoming quite crusty) and cry myself to sleep.