THE MAVERICK LIFE

TAKE A RIDE INTO THE MIND OF A LATIN MAVERICK WHO ALWAYS GRABS LIFE BY THE HORNS.....

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF BEAUTY...

I’m never one to brag or boast (ahem), but I have the sudden urge to talk about the trials and tribulations of being ATTRACTIVE. Some say it’s a gift, while some say it’s a curse of twisted proportions. The latter statement suggests the list of obsessive psychos who swarm around me like flies to a warm pile of shit. I am quite frankly exhausted with the obsessive stalking that comes packaged with being majestically handsome…


Although I surely enjoy the company of various individuals, I really do feel a tickle in the core of my stomach whenever I’m in the presence of other folk whom are as narcissistic as I. Mingling and fondling the pretty have always been a mental and sexual prerequisite of mine so it’s no surprise that I am always spotted with a plethora of drop-dead gorgeous hags and fine heterosexual men who secretly and coyly flirt with me.


Now, I do have a healthy grip on my ego and I’d like to think that I don’t wave my blessings in the face of a boar, but I do prefer telling the truth – the truth being I am eons away from resembling Quasimodo. With this in mind, individuals who become familiar with the reality that I’m a hoot to be around, coupled with my irresistible Latin stare (insert googly-eyes here) and come-fuck-me swagger, tend to get caught up in a schizoid embolism of “he’s mine and I must have him near me at all times.” While I’m oddly flattered by it all, it can simply become annoying and quite disturbing...


Cell phones ringing at all hours of the night and psychotic texts that chime in one after another occasionally have me questioning my sanity. Despite all this, I have a bevy of close friends who can completely sympathize with the dark side of being omnipotent. One such friend is my lusciously delicious hag Irene. This woman has had a lifetime of stalkers and copes with it with the dynamic efficiency of a seasoned Madam. One cannot blame her as she is the definition of what a Greek Goddess should look like.


Irene’s breasts are as supple as a melon(s) and I find it rather daunting that I fantasize resting my weary head in between her boobs of wonder (hence the pic above). It’s always extremely amusing how Irene and I tirelessly share stories of stalking incidents and marriage proposals. Irene is in fact the INSPIRATION behind this blog and the sole inspiration behind my acquiring a thicker skin that is impervious to peeping toms and misguided individuals who think they actually have a chance with us.