Someone Hit The Lambo Pt. 2

As you already know, someone hit the Lambo.

I was stuck with a... huge-ass bill.
Left with no other choice, I begrudgingly, whipped out my American Express...

Fuck you, just take my money.

And that was it.
I walked away.

My insurance company, who I had partially initiated a claim with, kept calling for days. Just itching, to jack up my rates.

I blockedthose assholes.

A few days go by, as I mourn the loss of my $3000... plus tax.

Then it hit me.

Like a fat shit, from those fucking birds. It landed on me, like it does to all my cars. But... Amid the mess of black and white, half eaten worms, and shitty-shit... A light bulb?

American Express, has rental insurance.

It was a dimly lit, shimmer of hope.

...Of escape.

...Of getting my damned money back.

I knew they probably meant rentals, as in, the cheap cars you buy in bulk. Like at Costco.

Cars... Which the rental companies buy, 20 at a time, to rent out to people like you and I.

Not Lamborghini's.

So I go to where I can, conceptualize…

Someone Hit The Lambo

I was minding my own business, driving the ultimate douche machine.
And yeah.
Someone hit my brand new, Lamborghini Huracan, and FUCKING ran.
People always say that... Asians cannot drive. But guess what, I'm Asian. And every time I have EVER been hit... Guess what? They weren't Asian.
I have only been in 3 accidents, so far.
More is on the way. If I can't rein in this uncontrollable road rage. But this isn't about me.
They were all, not my fault. And the stingy-ass-hat insurance people, agree. Meaning... those assholes all hit ME.
None of them Asian.
Same story this time. The one time, you know. With a Lambo.
Some assholes in a beat up, silver SUV or van looking thing. Hit MY Lambo. 
And... the good news? 
...It actually isn't mine.
So... WHOOPS! Sorry rental company! Hahahaha! It was THEIR bad.
I was at a red light, and they were in the lane to my left. 
Waiting for the green... To execute a well-coordinated, beautifully crafted, LEFT
They changed their mind. Tri…

Lost In Seattle Pt. 2

Continued from, Part 1.

After waiting for what seemed like, a fucking eternity. Our talkative driver, fucking finally, made it back to the car.

Now... whether we get raped or not. This is it.

This is the moment.

Reggae Beanie, turned the key. The old and very silver (Honda) Civic, came to life...

I was bracing for the knock-out gas, ready to kick a door open. Maybe smash some windows with my BARE hands.

I'm so scared!

...Someone hold me!

Okay... what's going on!? We're moving.

I'm on to you... Beanie.

Don't think, I've let my guard down. I got my eye on YOU and your ridiculouslyoversized accessories.

I still wonder what is in that purse. Will a giant spider mosy out and say hello, by, biting me on the eyeball?

9 out of 10 doctors, would say yes.
I do not like spiders and I REALLY... do not... like the hippi-verse, that, Pacquiao happily got us into. I'm just going to perform a precautionary ass clench.

I hate you Pacquiao.
Beanie reached for the radio.…

Lost In Seattle

My bro, Mini Pacquiao and I were out hunting.

We got the bling and the Calvin Klein cologne sprayed on so thick... You'd swear we were glowing. But nah, that's just my CK's Seduction, bitch.

We loaded up on the Hen, bought a ticket just to fucking park, then called an Uber.

It's game time.

We watched random girls, as they walked by. Made faces at them, talking shit, just a good time.

Like a pack of wild monkeys, but, who's to judge.

I can't remember what club we went to. It must have been good, if I can't remember! It has to be, the Rhino Room. I'm sure.

The club wasn't the fun part, anyway. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I was having one of those nights, where, I just wasn't feeling it. Even shots couldn't get me in the party mood. So, my night sucked.

As I was leaving the club, I look at my phone. Shit! It's almost dead.

Bro, how is your phone? I'm gonna turn mine off. It's gonna die and we gotta Uber back.


Jack In The Box Girl Pt. 2

So, my gamble did NOT pay off. Luckily, it was just a Benjamin.

Not a huge loss, just unfortunate.

Several months later, a random number texted me.
"Hey, honey! How you been, long time no see."

...Who the fuck, is this!?

"It's Crystal."


"My stripper cousin is here, wanna have a threesome?"

Its 3AM and I was drunk as fuck. Oh, fuck yeah.

I've always wanted to have a threesome. :(
She started off, pretty good. Sounded horny as fuck. She wanted me to come to their hotel, but, she needed a little help with some bills. Only like -- $700. Could I pleasseeeeee help a girl, in need.


Stop yanking my chain, y'all bitches. That was funny.

She was dead serious, SEVEN HUNDRED to fuck a ratchet, well loosened pussy.


You think that pussy is made of gold? I better pull my shit out and see it covered in diamonds.

Or at least, get a sandwich... After.

Long story short, I said hell NAW!

She lowered her price to $400. S…