Lower Than The Lowest Lows

The title’s pretty stupid. It doesn’t really make sense. I seem to have lost my ability and interest to write anything decent. I’m constantly reaching new lows in life. I’m definitely lower than I’ve ever been before and sadly, it’s probably still going to keep getting lower. The first low point I’ve ever reached was when I tried out online dating. Online dating doesn’t have nearly as much stigma as it used to, but the moment I decided to try it was still a depressing one. I was admitting that I couldn’t find a girl in real life. The moment a person decides to try online dating doesn’t need to be a depressing one, but it is often depressing and it was depressing for me. Failing at online dating makes it even worse.

The next low point was when I decided to try to find a girlfriend off craigslist. Finding a hooker would be fine, that’s just business. But girlfriend? That’s getting a little desperate. Failing at that makes things worse as well. Over the past couple years, I repeatedly tried it over and over again even though I rarely even get a response, let alone someone who’s interested. There are a lot of spam bots out there pretending that they’re girls worried about their safety and telling you to go to a certain site to pay $1 for a background check so that they know you’re safe. Luckily, I haven’t fallen for those. That definitely would’ve been a new low. But I did spend more time replying to those pre-written bot emails than I did with real girls – still a new low.

Then I went through several years of getting progressively more depressed, losing interest in movies, games, food, life. Naturally, it doesn’t take long to lose motivation to work when nothing’s enjoyable anymore. I can’t pinpoint specific events to these, but new lows were definitely being made. Finally, my latest new low is a sequel to the hooker story I wrote about in the last post. Seeing a hooker isn’t lowly. Developing feelings for a hooker is pretty bad. Developing feelings for a fat ugly hooker? Well that’s just retarded. That’s where I’m at…

After writing the last post, I decided to email the hooker and I went to see her that night. I just wanted some boob play and cuddling and someone to talk to. Okay, that sounds really lame. It was. It is. Let me redeem myself a little. I’m not desperate to talk to just anyone. I want someone to talk to regularly and frequently. Why I thought a hooker could fill that void was just plain stupid. There’s no redeeming that part. When I finally saw her, she was fat. I thought she was gonna be maybe a little overweight but nope, she was fat. I’m not attracted to fat. I’m not being super mean here and trying to make girls worry about their bodies. This girl clearly didn’t worry about it at all. Skinny isn’t attractive either. Lazy isn’t attractive as well. If a girl looks like she’s active, then she’ll look great. When I’m not ridden by depression, I’m a very active person with endless amounts of energy. I could be sporting and exercising all day and I’ll still have energy to do more that night and the next day and the next day. Naturally, I would be attracted to active people too. I’m not picky at all. Easily over 70% of girls are attractive to me. As long as you don’t like look you’ll die from walking up a flight of stairs, you look great. If you look like a bean bag chair, you probably don’t look great.

Anyway, I chatted with the hooker and I tried to befriend her. I learned all about her current situation and we decided we’d meet again as friends. I couldn’t sleep that night. I’m not really sure why, but then I eventually thought of a scenario where I could invite her to live in my house so she can sort out her life. Yes, it sounds really stupid when written. It’s not as stupid if you know the exact details I have planned, but it’s still pretty stupid. If she were a hot attractive girl, my stupidity would be understandable at least. But now it’s just pure stupidity with no excuse.

Before I make the final stupid decision, I would need to talk to her thoroughly and ask her a lot of questions to find any reason not to do it. It didn’t take me long at all to catch her not living up to my fantasy but it was still irrefutably stupid that I considered it so seriously. At least I dodged that bullet I guess. I have no idea what stupid shit I’ll do next. If it doesn’t cost me my life, I’ll probably be blogging about it. I might record a podcast tomorrow with more details on the hooker story.

Breaking Up With Hookers

I spent most of last night and today emailing hookers. If I’ve emailed you in the last 24 hours, please don’t mistakenly think that I’m calling you a hooker. I’m was emailing real hookers, from craigslist. I didn’t set out looking for hookers though. I just wanted to find some girls to talk to and they just all turned out to be hookers. After I found out they were hookers, I didn’t even mind. As cheap as I am, I was ready to pay. That’s how lonely I’ve been feeling lately.

Oddly enough, once they reveal that they’re hookers and I express my interest in their services, they stop replying. Maybe they were first timers and are second guessing their life choices. Maybe they were busy and had dicks in their mouths. Either way, it still made me feel lonelier. I couldn’t even get hookers to take my money. Eventually, I finally got one and when we were finalizing the deal, I saw a picture of her and I began to lose interest. The picture was okay, but it was small and you couldn’t really get a clear look at the girl. But then she described herself as a BBW – big beautiful woman – and that lost my interest. Often times, obese women would call themselves BBW so the term is kind of tainted. I think this hooker is a real BBW who’s a bit big but still pretty decent looking.

I hate how I can be so vain sometimes. I think it’s okay to be vain in the context of looking for a hooker, but I’m ashamed that my vanity carries on to other areas of life. Looks isn’t everything, but it’s definitely a thing. It’s not the most important thing, but it’s still definitely a thing. Being nice is the most important and attractive trait. If there are two people who are equally nice but one person is better looking, that better looking person is more attractive and lovable. That’s just the way things are. But if the uglier person is even a wee-bit nicer, then that person becomes more attractive. The problem is, when you don’t know a person yet, you can only judge them by their appearance. It takes a while to see whether someone is truly nice or not. It’s unfortunate, but often times, ugly people aren’t nice because they’re bitter. Some people claim that they don’t care about looks at all. I wonder if that’s really true or maybe they’re just deluding themselves or maybe a part of their brain is busted.

After I lost interest in the hooker, I needed to “break up” with her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings because even though she’s a hooker, she’s still a person and has feelings. Maybe she doesn’t care, but maybe she does care. I’ve been unintentionally hurtful many times in my life and I don’t like hurting people. I wound up telling her that I’m chatting up a couple other girls and wanted to see if those get anywhere. I think I let her down easy without seeming like a dick or a total waste of time. I think I’m learning to become a better person by exchanging emails with hookers.

To Bone-Her or Not To Boner

This entire entry is written by my friend, including the title. The only thing I’m writing is this bolded text which isn’t even needed so I should stop.


Being in the sexual rut that I have been in (since birth!), I have been open to new ideas. A friend of mine recently suggested a house not too far from where I live that hosts orgies and swinger parties with women willing to fulfill my sexual fantasies. The catch? All the women would be old enough to be my grandmother. However, I couldn’t toss up the opportunity to experience an experienced woman, could I? I have not had the most success in the bedroom up until this point, but when imagining one of these older women, I thought her experience would outweigh her looks. But when I got to the place, I realized her weight outweighed everything else. Hard, cold reality smacked me full in the kisser! This is a story gone very wrong, very quickly, I might add.…

So I arrived at the destination (the only arriving I was gonna do that day, apparently). I knocked on the door. Out walked a fat, old, ugly broad, worse than anything I ever imagined, and I made sure to try and visualize the worst possible looking woman beforehand. As I mentioned before, my reasoning for doing this in the first place was for the experience and for experience itself. I paid 40 bucks for a membership fee (or member fee) and 30 bucks to go to that specific event. A total of 70 smackers, allowed me to stay there the whole day, if I so desired. It turned out it was a complete waste of money considering that I was in the vicinity of the house for no more than 25 minutes, and 15 of those minutes were spent just talking with the “host.” She then proceeded to give me a whore – I mean, tour – of the house. She had a spread of snacks set up on her dinner table ranging from jelly beans, chips, chocolate and other colorful candies, not to mention a spread of her own. Of course I wouldn’t touch any of those snacks just thinking of the dirty hands that would have been in those bowls.

While showing me the second floor of the house, we passed by hundreds of family and baby pictures on the left side of the hallway, while random couples fucked in the bedrooms on the right side. She then introduced me to Ruth, an older, fatter and even uglier woman than she was. If she were in a beauty contest with only three contestants, she’d come fourth! She eyed me hungrily, and said in her Wicked Witch of the West voice, “Mmm, fresh meat, hit me up later” and then winked at me, but with both eyes, which I found strange. I nearly gagged at the thought of having this 300lb woman on top of me. I was told that the house runs specific events like “Interracial Night Fridays.” I also somehow managed to hear rumors in the 15 minutes that I walked between those walls that Ruth had a thing for black guys. I had to imagine that her vagina was like a football field: 100 yards in length and that a lot of black guys must have sprained their ankles on it. Anyway, as I mentioned, I was in the house no longer than 25 minutes, and 15 of those minutes were spent in introductions. Now to get to the not-so-juicy details of the remaining 10 minutes….

So there I was after the tour, standing awkwardly alone. The host came up to me and told me that she wasn’t fucking today because she just had a colon checkup the previous week…. I started thinking to myself, “I understand the kind of house you are running here, but don’t the rules of meeting someone for the first time and keeping the condition of your colon out of conversation mean anything to you?” She then pointed at the youngest woman in the place, and said, “Ask her if she wants to play.” Note that I was pretty nervous from the moment I set foot in the house, but not nearly as much as when I realized I had to woo a woman twice my age. (And even then I was getting off – no pun intended – lightly, because most of the beauties were quadruple my age!) I eventually grabbed her hand and asked her, “Do you want to play?” She chuckled and said, “Well, yes I do!” Don’t get me wrong, although this one was the youngest, she still didn’t fit on any scale I ever conjured up in my mind. However, she really wasn’t that bad for an older broad. (Let’s not forget how desperate I was – and still am!) She asked me if I’d ever done this sort of thing before (“Do you come here often?”). Then she told me not to be nervous and to just try to enjoy myself. I was feeling a bit more confident at this point, but then she raised the question (not my dick), “Are you comfortable fucking or being naked in front of people?” In my head, my first thought was that I’m hardly comfortable fucking or being naked in front of one girl, but to pass myself off as seeming calm, cool and collected, I answered, “I guess we’ll find out today.”

We got in the room and had about a minute of small talk, and then she started to kiss me…. I wasn’t expecting it. I thought the rules of this “social” situation indicated we would be purely fucking, but then I understand that there still needs to be some kind of foreplay (even if it meant playing Bingo with her). Kissing a 50 year old broad wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it was the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life, thus far. I had trouble taking off her bra. (It seems that’s always going to be an ongoing problem for me.) She pretty much took off all her clothes and then proceeded to take off all mine. She pushed me on the bed and started giving me head – and I’m not talking cerebral here. Now in my mind, I know I’m self-conscious every second of these encounters, so I actually lifted my head to see if I was hard – to my surprise, I was! So I actually “enjoyed” the next 5 minutes. I’ll be honest, I don’t enjoy BJ’s usually. Of my experiences, she was the first one that seemed to know what she was doing, and yet I still didn’t enjoy it. Sometimes I feel like my dick doesn’t give a fuck unless I’m the one touching it, because it’s more relaxed and comfortable with me. Anyway, at this point, she grabbed a condom package from the desk behind her. I then asked her to open it and put it on me to avoid any embarrassing moves on my part. But she wanted me to open it, so I took it, and said, “You gotta open it like a bag of chips” while tearing the wrapper. One conclusion I can make by now in my life is that condoms absolutely kill the mood for me. The second I put it on, or more like after 45 seconds of trying to put it on, I am no longer hard. And now by this point, I found it impossible to get hard again! She got on top of me, used her hands to try to get me hard again, but it just didn’t work. Now let me get to the worst part of all….

I can blame the condom, which I seem to have so much trouble putting on all the time. I can also blame the bad smell that seemed to fill every room and hallway in that house. If I wanted to, I could even blame Ruth’s saggy, crusty, pimpled ass that I saw as she walked up the stairs in front of me.  But, what I think really fucked it up for me was the fact that another naked man walked into the bedroom and then sat right beside me on the bed. Now, I know the woman warned me about this before. Apparently their policy is that you can’t close the door for security reasons. You’re allowed to ask for private time, but everyone is still allowed to watch. Talk about an “open door policy!” She moved her hand over and started to give him a handjob while still on top of me. I’m telling you – I’ve never seen my dick shrink so fast. The speed of light! At one point, I remember her looking down in a surprised manner, probably to check to see if my dick was even still there. She whispered to me, “You can ask him to get out of the room if you want private time.” So I quietly yelled: “GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!” I’m kidding of course. At this point I just wanted out of the house – period! But, I thought I’d give it a shot. So I asked him to leave and he left, but only outside the door to watch, with the other 2 guys already standing there…. So now I had 3 guys watching me “try” to fuck this lady with the limpest dick they’d ever seen – and for that matter, I’d ever seen! Maybe if I wasn’t constantly seeing their faces out of the corner of my eye, it might not have been so bad. She started kissing me again, probably thinking it would get me hard like it was 5 minutes before, but it just didn’t work. I figured it was hopeless at this point. She noticed, and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” I was thinking it doesn’t matter, I plan to tell everyone anyway. In fact, I’ll write about it. I’m certain she must have asked the host for a refund after experiencing me. I left the room to go to the washroom. I went in, got dressed, and considered stealing some towels to get my money’s worth. I exited the washroom and wanted to say goodbye to the old broad for the sake of good manners, but she was too busy with the other 3 guys already on top of her. I then told the host to let me get my bicycle out of her garage because I had to go. She asked me, “How was it?” I replied, “Decent.”

So after all that – coitus interruptus! – I didn’t even get the experience I set out to get. My sex-capades have been a nerve-racking experience up until now. I really should just give up the whole idea of trying to get properly laid knowing that, no matter what, it eventually leads to anxiety, to say the least. Unfortunately, I actually enjoy “the chase” part of it. If I didn’t, I could save a lot of money.

Will I ever go back? Perhaps after a night downtown of trying to pick up chicks my own age, I’ll be so drunk and desperate that I’ll remember the house that gave me a boner, and then took it away so quickly.

Tale of Losing My Virginity; Got Paid to Get Laid

This is a detailed account of the night (tonight) I lost my virginity. I haven’t felt like doing anything lately and haven’t been blogging either but my friend paid me to write this. I’m getting paid to write about getting laid, not for getting laid, in case there’s still misunderstanding because I purposely misled you. I still had to pay for the hooker. I actually had to pay the hooker more than I’m getting paid so I just got a discount to lose my virginity. By now, you should be aware that this isn’t a sexy story. If you must, go somewhere else to masturbate because this story is kind of a boner killer.

At around 6 pm, my friend (the one who’s paying me to write this) told me that he and his hooker-savvy friend is going out for massage and sex and asked if I was interested in coming. Given my lack of will to pursue any work or entertainment, I figured I’ll go out to get laid if my friend is driving and paying for it. I’m a cheap guy and I like to make the most of my money. If possible, I want to make the most out of the transaction, finishing as many times as I can. Apparently, the pro-whore friend told me that 30 minutes means finishing once and doesn’t actually go by the time. It’s kind of tricky because prostitution is probably illegal so you kind of have to adapt their euphemisms and can’t get clearly defined rules. I still would’ve asked and see if I can get a full 30 minutes and I would just ask them explicitly when we start because I’d already be naked by that point so there’s no need to beat around bushes anymore. I know I can historically finish quickly so I would’ve wanted to at least ask for a 5 minute warranty. The other thing is that I still kind of want to go to prison so getting caught by cops would actually have been far from the worst case scenario.

The plan for the night is as follows: first, my 2 friends want to get a regular massage, hopefully with happy endings or more, and then we visit the straight up full service place. If the first place turns out to provide full service, then they’ll let me know and I can purchase my services there as well. The first place had two decent ladies but I would’ve hoped for even better ones. We didn’t know what we were in for so only one of my friends went in first. The other guy and I went to grab some food while we waited. I’m cheap so I actually didn’t purchase any food. The friend offered me some of his fries so I ate some. This guy was actually a friend of the other friend so we didn’t know each other too well and I just filled the time with my usual depressing talks. I pretty much covered anything you would read from the blog except I was more depressing and less funny. I can’t imagined my moping was good especially on a night he’s planning to get laid. He probably felt bad and offering fries was the least he could do.

After a while, the massaged friend called to pick him up and he informed us that they offered happy endings. This piqued the interest of the other friend and he decided to go in for the service too. I didn’t go because I wanted full service. If I’m losing my virginity, I’d like to do it right, as much as money can buy, at a reasonable price. At this point, they agreed that they were still taking me to the other place after both their happy endings so I didn’t mind waiting. I’ve already waited 23 years so a couple more hours wasn’t going to hurt me.

Now I went to get food with this friend. We went to KFC and again, I didn’t buy anything. He bought a little combo meal and gave me the chicken drumstick. We mostly joked about happy endings and condoms, you know, typical dinner talk for guys. Afterwards, we went to Baskin Robins to get some ice cream. I didn’t want to pay for anything but my friend insisted to buy me some. I’ve been spending a lot of time writing about food and given that I’m most notoriously known for my shit stories, I’m going to disappoint you right now and let you know that this doesn’t lead to a nasty diarrhea sex story.

After waiting around for a while, the other friend finally finished and now we head towards the real climax of the evening. It was a disappointing climax but I used that word just for the double entendre. This new location is an apartment complex and the lobby smelled bad. The odor was made nastier because we all had cum on our minds. At this point, I wasn’t nervous or anything. I hadn’t put much thought in this whole thing since I haven’t been thinking about anything at all for the past year or so. I’m not even sure if my brain is capable of thoughts anymore since I’ve been letting it rot for so long. My friends told me that I need to follow through with this and I just said sure. I didn’t really care. As long as the girls weren’t ugly, I didn’t plan to chicken out. If I’m going to pain my cheap mind to spend money, even if it’s my friend’s money, I expect a certain quality.

When we finally got in the room, I was immediately disappointed. They weren’t terrible looking, but they were definitely less than I expected. They were definitely worse than the ones in the first locations so there was an added sense of regret. When I was in the car, I was wondering whether I’d pick a prettier face with no boobs or a lesser face with better boobs. That didn’t matter anymore because I didn’t have any options and the only 2 I could choose from were both mediocre looking with decent boobs. When we arrived, I didn’t talk but I was slowly trying to back out of it because we all knew they weren’t lookers. But then my friends went right ahead of ordered one up for me despite my hesitation. I didn’t want to be a party pooper and since I wasn’t paying, I complied, but I wasn’t excited at all.

The place was pretty hush-hush and everybody spoke with indoor voice. I wasn’t crazy about the fact that they barely speak English but that’s not exactly a deal breaker for what I’m doing. I was led into a room and the woman asked if I speak Chinese. I told her that I speak Cantonese and it was as though she didn’t know what Cantonese was. She asked the same question a few more times, in English and in Mandarin, and I kept giving her the same answer and added that I was from Hong Kong. She didn’t get it but whatever, we just proceeded. She told me to start and I declared that I was putting on a condom and she shushed me. I said it slightly loud by accident but I wasn’t screaming it or anything and it felt weird to be shushed. The whore-philliac friend had advised me to try to hold out longer but when it was all about to start, I didn’t really have anything in mind. I didn’t try to finish quick or slow, I just went with it.

As a Chinese guy, my dick is pretty small already and because I wasn’t excited, I was completely flaccid and it was as tiny a knob as it’s ever been. I’ve never shaved that area so it was practically camouflaged in the bushes. Like most people, I try to make jokes to ease awkwardness so I outright joked and said “It’s small, isn’t it?” I have no idea if she heard or understood because of her poor English but it wasn’t important. When I took off my shirt, she “ooo”-ed and rubbed my chest. I don’t know if it was purely an act or if she was excited because I was actually kind of built or if she thought it was funny that I was hairless. Earlier, my friend told me about freely touching boobs because he knew my taste and knew that I would’ve wanted to know that. So I only hesitated a little as I reached for the boobs because that’s the only attraction at that point. In my years of virginity, I had already thought of the possibility that boob-touching is overhyped and that was definitely the case tonight. It just felt like oval flesh. It wasn’t particularly exciting. It was fine. It didn’t get me hard and I was planning to play with them a bit but she kind of brushed my arm off after a couple squeezes and told me to lie down. I guess she just wanted to get right to my dick so she can get rid of me sooner. I lied down and reached for a boob and she kinda pushed it away again and told me she was going to suck my dick. I guess she pushed my hand away to get into sucking position. She sucked for a bit and my dick rose steadily. Once it was up, I didn’t know how quickly I would finish so I stopped her and asked for pussy. It was pretty awkward asking for pussy and not knowing if she understood me or not. I didn’t know where to start so I just let her lead. We switched to her lying down and because I was awkwardly on top of her, I couldn’t really reach for boob anymore. If it isn’t clear already, I’m kinda obsessed with boobs.

I didn’t wait for my dick to get fully hard so it was pretty difficult to shove such a small object into its destination. I didn’t really care about my small dick but the most disappointing part was that I couldn’t feel anything because of the condom. I was very disappointed in sex. I give myself a way better handjob. I didn’t know how to get into fucking positions and ours parts didn’t seem to fit together. When I tried to get on the bed, she pointed at me feet and said “No toes.” I don’t know how I was supposed to fuck her without my feet on the bed. I’ve never fucked so my pelvic muscle wasn’t strong. Not only that, but I don’t have a big range of motion to work with because of my short dick. My dick is probably proportional to my height, average-ish, but it didn’t help that it wasn’t even at its full length. If that’s not bad enough already, I also had to take a break after my first thrust because I pulled my hamstring right away. This sex thing wasn’t working and we switched position several times. None of the positions seem to work. I forgot to mention that I kind of needed to pee before we started so when she was bouncing on top, my bladder felt a lot more than my dick did. Whenever I had a free hand, I tried to reach for a boob and she keeps brushing it off after a short while. I don’t know what the deal is. Much like a fly, she’d let me go at it shortly to see if I would move away myself I guess. She didn’t react greatly to it either. It was just weird. Finally, she offered to finish with her hands and I just said sure. She only went at it for a little while and she already seemed tired and disgruntled with her hands. Disappointing. I could’ve done a better job myself. The rest is history.

Prior to tonight, I actually feared that I might enjoy sex too much and be forced to get a job to finance this obsession. Instead, my depression and lack of motivation to live just got reaffirmed. Not a great night. The fast food I had with my friends was way better than the sex. It was un-noteworthy but it still wouldn’t have been a bad night if it wasn’t for the fact that I left something in my friend’s car. I had to drive 30 minutes to my friend’s house to pick it back up. Now it’s just a waste of time and money. I would’ve been better off spending that money on Tales of Xillia for the PS3 that came out last month. Yes, I think about video games more than sex. What a nerd I am.