www.youtube.cm/aceartexerience

Chapter I

HORRENDOUS

Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl…!

It’s yours truely, Dirty Pour and I am thankful to say….
We have survived another weekend of Hurricane Harveys’ and Confederate Conspiracies. I just sooo happen to be in a city named after one of those fuckers too. Well… I hope EVERYONE is WELL armed and can soon learn the value of sharing blankets of pink and purple (unicorn gang colors) and yet not click glitter in each others eyes. Especially during a time of need like this one. Whether you’re playing the victim or the heroin. Even though what happened in Texas is horrendous, it was incredible to see all of the LOVE and compassion coming from 1,000’s of individuals everywhere to help one another. Anyway an Artist friend of mine invited me to be her date for a birthday shindig this past Saturday. Let me just say… CHILD. BOO. HONEY…. PLEASE.

It started off real cute and mellow as things often do. BUT all that changed in a blink of one of your falsies. What had happened was…. We started at a brewery on the balcony. Bad idea. Heat raises. However, two females in the group entertained us for a bit. One went on and on about her vegetarian boifriend when she found out I was Vegan. Dear GOD. While the other one pulled a disappearing act for an hour with a guy that was apart of the group. I hope it was THAT good that the two of you could NOT wait until you were leaving to do whateva it is that you two do. OMG how rude!!! Birthday gurl gots too twisted then proceeded to share bedroom tales, no thank you. Let’s be like Buddha and live in the moment. Not talk about who whistled your gristle 10 yrs ago. NEXT!

Now to TOP this all off, my date and I get cock-blocked from the only cute single guy there, who was of coarse talking about his job the whole time. To make matters worse we were BLOCKED like fools watching the Solar Eclipse with fake lens, by a faghag pretending to be a news reporter who came in from left field. She swooped in like a buzzard on a carcass’ hard ass. You would have sworen he was giving out FREE phones on Black Friday. We never saw THAT thang coming… well…. Long story longer. We dipped out and went to another venue. The second place we arrived at was playing Electronic Dance Music. Deep House. Score. My friend’s friend knows someone who knows someone else who blows the DJ. Therefore we made it into the booth where undoubtedly there was a bottle already cracked, waiting for us. Fierce. I soon made it towards the dance floor for a minute to work the crowd and show them how it’s done. Yeeeeeaaaouuusssss! Honey. Trussss…!

Yes, it’s Dirty Pour & you know you want more. I’m here to Represent, bringing you eloquent. Awe, look at the time. Before I’m a mess, it’s time to press. Don’t wanna get outta line. Next we went and got something GREASY. SALTY. EXPENSIVE. Now ready for bed. Sunday Funday = Sleep Deep. We both made it home safe. We had an interesting night. Pillows are what’s trending and tweeted currently in my bedroom. I do hope this Labor Day Weekend is a fun and safe one. Wondering if that Tranny Minion from three weeks ago will be lurking around town again??? She was wearing next to nothing, assuming cause it’s hott as an oven. Florida temperatures be all the way up. Hey. Yo. WTF?! If a rapper named after a bottle of rum can afford red bottom fun without having to dance, I wanna know where my shoe factory is to prance? Where it’s at? How about THAT???

-Dirty Pour

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour 09-07-2017 12:28 AM

Chapter II

HORS D’OEUVRES

Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl…!
I told myself that I wasn’t gonna do this again but it ended up happening anyways. Damn it. Another boring Saturday night on Labor Day weekend. Just my luck. Home alone & stuck like Chuck. Oh shit. What a MUCK. Shameful. Well at least I had a FAB-U-LOUS time Friday night which I’ll be telling you sweetie pies ALL about it in just a moment. Like I LOVE to say, “Scandals to da Sandals”. They might as well call me Olive cause da juice Ima bout to pour is really THAT dirty. This story I’m seconds away from disclosing with you is about an art show, the senior citizen, me doing porn, and a bright house. Yet another bright house. But first I wanna bitch some more about my lame Saturday. No one told me that my Labor Day weekend meant that it was gonna be a painful one like having contractions and constipation at the same time. I deserve to get Booty Buffed again really soon to make up for it. BTW.

Friday. Friday. Friday. I must say what happened Friday night was enough to cover a three day weekend, trust me. An openwork upper overlapping a double decker trifecta if you may. First the art show. As we walked up we could hear the performer singing proud like church just let out and she was the former son of a preacher man. While we were there my friends kept digging into all of the complimentary hors d’oeuvres strategically laying around in various areas that obviously strangers had fingered hours before our arrival. Gross. And the artists in the show. One artist’s name sounded like an overpass and another a played out clothing label. On the contrary, apparently both more ambitious than myself. Don’t let me forget about the piece that had the word terrorism on it. Shocking[YAWN]. I’m not sure what the theme of the event was either. In fact I may not have even been invited to this party. Ooops!

Now we’re gonna cover the part about the senior citizen and me doing porn…. The senior citizen happens to be my friend’s friend’s mother who is now my friend too. Cute lady. I’m not sure if this was a joke or she was giving me a compliment or she was referring to me as a Tramp. BUT. She said that I was attractive and wanted to know if I ever did porn. I responded with no thinking the conversation was over. Quite the contrary. She then proceeded to ask me why I never did porn. Silly me, I thought it was obvious why I never did porn. Because that ain’t a way to make a living if you’re LOVING yourself. Right? Then again, those crafty BITCHES are getting paid and I’m not. So I replied with, “Cause I’m stupid and that’s why I’ve never done porn!” I mean, how do you respond and not react to that? Maybe this was her all time fantasy to meet a romp tromp fromp porn-star icon. Who knows.

Last but not least, the bright house. Actually this involved two bright houses. The art show’s gallery was in a bright house and the senior citizen lives in a bright house. The same freaking color. Creepy. The senior citizen bright house came with two bottles that we brought over. Senior citizen bright house was also where we had the after party that late night and early morning. Unfortunately, DJ not included. Hence why I kept nodding off. It was better than listening to my two homegurls hackeling and cackling at one another like two old feisty, shiesty, wretched, & ratchet, thirsty, dry, bitter, NASTY queens. Enough of THAT. Let’s not forget about that nice strait boi we met earlier, who said he made a craft outta handling some good wood. Yum. I’m talking a henched up cracker make you wanna factor. IN. Getting slung-up with him, a little white pride with his fem. Did I just say that? Yes. He was a 10.

-Dirty Pour

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour on 09.15.17 at 1:00 AM

Chapter III

DEVASTATION

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!” Well… I’ll… be… blessed… Didn’t we just get outta this mess??? Yet another hurricane and this time I’m deep up in it. Just how I likes it, just how it be, and just how I likes it to be up in me. Daily. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, this stormy weather. You can slap me silly and call me Heather. I’m your Tropical Recession. Take away your oppression. Making me your Sunday confession. I can teach you a GOOD lesson and leave a LONG lasting impression. Now, let’s keep them guessing…. Oh, and speaking of Hurricanes. Umm… hmm…. My ‘go to’ DRANK! Those do have me sucking without chucking. Down like something good I really should be spitting out of my mouth. My only quarrel about this season is that strong and forceful POWER could shake my walls apart. otherwise life has been really, really, good to me. People on the other hand have not. Like my roommate who threw me OUT.

Yeeeeeaaaouuusssss! Directly after Irma had come through. I was treated like something taboo. I had no idea what to do. I was tossed away like a Trump employee. Wait. How could this be? I’m Dirty Pour, the late night whore. I’m your mi amore. An easy DL score. Always wanting more. Electric lines were down. Bridges were closed. Roads were underwater. Condoms were scarce. DEVASTATION. Cold. Numb. Little sensation. I was locked out with no hesitation. Loss of words. Dignity. No clean panties. Therefore I walked to an area as I waited for a ride. My cell phone battery, very low. I took a full breath of air. Not fresh. Please, who are we fooling. No one. I kept my eyes wide open remembering I had just been told about individuals were masking as help to rob and assault.

As I stood there like a two bit trick. Tossed away, shit got thick. BITTER! Some trollop passing by asked if I was ok. I was polite responding with yes. She looked like she had just crawled outta da sewer that I was standing directly over. I wanted to ask her if SHE was ok. However, she may be carrying a weapon. Or a venereal. Or both. Either way she ain’t on on my Pussy Pour Payroll. PLEASE just press. Fievel go West. She asked again. I explained I was just waiting on my peeps. She responded with I’d be arrested if I didn’t get off these streets. as if I was working the corner. I’m thinking, “BITCH I’m a high class hoe!” Then I started fantasizing about men and uniforms. As well as men without uniforms. Come to think of it, she don’t know me or what I’m capable of.

I’d take blowing Super Miracle Bubbles over dealing with this Street Urchin ANY Irma. As far as any cops coming. They’d protect me from the likes of THAT. Trussss…! Besides I’d handle law reinforcements accordingly. I know I’m continually on demand. Even if you’re not a fan. I’d pull my hoodie down so the officer could see my lip gloss do be popping while he’ll be chomping. Extra! Extra! Come weep all about it! Everyone is supposed to be indoors and off of the roads. But Dirty Pour don’t do curfews. Hate to be “bringing you da blues”. Besides these misty corner street lights do wonders for my natural inner glow. Rain. Sleet. Drought. Snow. Either way I’ll still deliver you a show 1-2-3-4…. I’m your shaken, stirred, Dirty Pour. Pay your tab if you want more.

-Dirty Pour

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour on 09.22.17 at 07:11 AM

Chapter IV

TRAUMATIZED

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

Nothing. Absolutely NOT a blessed nor damned thang. That’s why we gonna be talking bout what we dids later in the week(meaning: a multitude of foolishness as I’m sure you have already perceived). Dees hoes be tripping. Right? Sooo…? What had happened was…. This weeks rant is about a cut, a cop, a crash, a cousin, and a curfew. Again, Dirty Pour don’t do curfews. PERIOD. However, this curfew is a little on the deceptive side, just like my A cup breast. Speaking of breast. We sell those at my new job. Breasts not A cups. That’s something to rant about, my new gig I started with this week. After a LONG financial drought I’m ready to bring my A game on and start making some serious cash. Instead of playing that on going “Special Guest” on the set of “12 Broke Bitches”. Or whatever it’s called. Tired. NEXT. Now if I could only gets this place to switch a bitch to-night shift. I’ll be real swift.

Let’s first discuss the cut… Actually, the cut, the cop, and the crash are one story and the cousin and the curfew are another. It was time to have “My Mane Maintained”. It’s insane and a shame. My hairdo look like boo boo and I am now through. Sooo…? I went and gots mine tended to. Yes. I gots my hair did. And it was DRA-MA. Naturally, Mafia Moto escorted me and she backed that bumper up like a damn juvenile. Right into another bumper. Oh. No. Right before I loose my locks. Dear me. Thank GOD nothing happened to us. Except Mofia Moto received a ticket. How embarrassing! Shameless. And she was. This cop came outta no where. FAST. Good thing he didn’t shoot or taser us. Ooo, uh, uh! No Mame! Mafia Moto be misrepresenting. ALWAYS. But sha thinks she’s the “Head Nigga in Charge!” Please. Okey-Dokey? You best go back to Bokey with that skeeze.

Traumatized, I staggered to my appointment on time. Luckily Mofia Moto didn’t have NO contraband nor penicillin on her either. Anyways… Let me tell you… my barber is da bomb! His shop is named after a type of bomb too. He way out yonder. VIP. I gets my bubbly, remove mop ugly, feeling QUIET lovely. Now EBT.gov me. See the shady thang was the cop followed me in to the shop. Weird. And he just sat there. It felt like that time I was in booking down on 33rd. I was under his close surveillance the whole time. Like a hawk on a chicken. But NOT like that, he had a wedding ring on. I hope he couldn’t smell anythang on me. Plus I wasn’t wearing any clean panties. Actually I don’t think I had any panties on come to think of it. Regardless he had no business frisking me. Unless he leaves me BIG tip. And I’m not referring to nobody’s penis either. Ooo, uh, uh. You NASTY! Where your minds be at? The gutters that’s where.

Finally we are getting to my cousin and her curfew. She actually doesn’t have a curfew, however my aunt treats her like she does. My aunt talks to her like she’s in high school again. Where are you going? Who are you going to be with? How long you plan on being there? I mean really? Are you writing a book we don’t know bout? My poor cousin hurt herself and she’s been hobbling along like a Vietnam Veteran getting reenlisted to Afghanistan. If Ghan is tan then how dark am I? And who is Ghan anyways? Back to my cousin. She needs help. Let’s discuss her hair since our story has become a hair blog. Currently my cousin looks like a Munchee-Chee on a BAD hit of ACID. I just haven’t had the heart to tell her yet. But she should know why she can’t gets a man. I don’t even see her with no dirty dick either. Guess she’s not desperate just boring as Hell. You know she had da nerves to tells me she’s not my entertainment. Um-mm… Why else to you think I keeps you around. It’s not to boost my popularity ratings. Those are already rising.

-Dirty Pour

“GUESS WHAT I DID LAST WEEKEND, GURL!”

by Dirty Pour 09-29-17 5:12 AM

Chapter V

BODYBOOKING

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

Well, well, well, look at what we have to BLOG here…. What shady scandal shall we start with first? Let’s ponder THAT for a moment…. OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH!!! BOKEY ESCAPADERS set sail for “City of Celery” in the downtown hysterical district. This is where I was this past weekend. Out & About. Shopping. Getting my corn husks removed. The basics. Yes, that’s right. This is because lately I’ve been laying low-key in da Bokey AREA. BUT. I will say I needed a break and a BIG one FAST! Howeva, didn’t bring any CASH. And wasn’t selling my ASS. Andale! Andale! Arriba! Arriba! Then had to dash. This week’s story involves a sister twister with a turnt up Mr. let’s begin RIGHT hurrrrrrr…. Howeva, should we begin by starting our plot off with the “Grimy Gremlin” or the HOTT mess in a dress or ALMOST missing my bus or barley getting left at a restaurant or the “Drunken Disaster” Or the slave master screaming, “FASTER! FASTER!” BTW. We ain’t gots all day. That last one about a slave master was a joke, okay?

Actually we are going to start off with… yep you guess it. The title of this weeks theme, BODYBOOKING! For those of you who don’t know Bodybooking is: 1) “Someone who is constantly posting pictures on social-media of themselves in swims suits or workout clothes to show everyone how hot they really are.
Also paired with constant status updates about fruits, vegetables, juicing, working out, going to health food stores and posting articles about those topics. This generally annoys the shit out of others and there are never any comments on the posts except for the person’s lover or significant other who is equally obsessed and annoying.”
2) A person who constantly post pictures of themselves while working out, topless or in a bikini thong, or in workout clothes with no sweat on their face. Could be compared to a douchebag workout, if extreme.
3) “Alleged straight guys posting shirtless phone pic selfies that have been taken either in bathrooms, bedrooms, or other various intimate locations.” 4) A hooker that’s really good at scheduling all of his or her appointments.

I’ve currently come to the realization that I, Dirty Pour am the Simone Giertz of BLOGS!!! Always coming up with new and innovative ways to put you on the floor with you grabbing at those busted guts pf yours. Don’t be mad. I’m NOT quite sure why EVERYONE is upset with OUR current Presidency and their policies. It’s VERY obvious why the administration is frowning upon football players kneeling while taking the Pledge of Allegiance during the National Anthem. Think about this, how else would the POTUS be able to GRAB all of the player’s PUSSIES? Speaking of pussies…. My homeboi Cash told me that in his opinion the VERY famous “Like” a virgin pop star has a near mint pussy and that’s really what the song is about. Huh? Anyways, now’s chat time to discuss “Grimy Gremlin” and almost getting stranded at the sushi bar. This being because “Grimy Gremlin” gots jelly cause our server was giving me more attention than it. Now you’d think since “Grimy Gremlin” kept going into the bathroom probably to Cruise & Cottage it’s latest victim’s unforeseen and unfortunately having to succumb to unwanted attempts of buggery. NEXT!

Last but NOT least OUR “Drunken Disaster”. As I was walking down the street, a car stopped and the driver started yelled something at me. He wasn’t discrete in any way, shape, or form. I thought to myself… who was he and why was he yelling at me? Hunty. Honestly, I wasn’t working the streets. Nor trying to jump in da sheets. Or the corners. Not this time anyways. Shhhhh…. Seriously. I wasn’t wearing ANY slutty lil outfits or performing any “Hood Hour Twerk” either. Sooo…? Why all of the attention??? It turns out iwas a friend of mine’s neighbor warning me about my friend. That she went off on the DEEP END again and has been on a heavy drinking binge. Because of this, her sponsor was now trying to gets her “Baker Acted”. OUCH! Ummm. Last time I checked, she’s over 21 and pays ALL of her bills. DAMN! Let the woman have a FUCKING drink. It’s been a rough couple weeks and Porto Rico is STILL out of basic vital amenities. Times are Hard. Better be on guard. Here’s to, without tears. I’ll have two for you too, Dears. CHEERS! Then three for ALL those queers. Slowly forgetting my deepest fears. Switching gears. This rant’s ends are nears.

-Dirty Pour

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour on 12.29.17 at 4:59 AM

Chapter VI

LONELY’S

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

LONELY’S LITTLE WHORE HOUSE – Welcome to Lonely’s Little Whore House where our buns are greasy and the meat is tough. THAT beef can also be VERY sour (much like myself) and well believe it or not, DRY (very much like FLAT, cheap, old, stale, champagne). Btw champagne is only produced in Paris, France. Thank you!!! Before last call it’s your chance to do your prance. Give them face as you dance, face them while they glance. Put them in a trance and help them shake off that bad romance. But back to greasy meat and flaky buns cumming out ANY way you could imagine and NOT like you wanted nor expected. Just hope it’s not infected. Sort of like my life which is still effected, been strongly neglected, completely rejected, and undoubtedly TOO hectic.

I must confess and do detest. Knee deep but trying to get outta this MESS!!! I’m saddened…. Where’s my Aladdin? Jasmine gots me real maddened. If I wanted either I could have had them. I NEVER saw myself working in a brothel of a place such as this. NOPE. In fact one of our working gurls keeps telling me to just breathe deep and gets some sleep. Another tells me to drink more water and try a little harder. Maybe I should do both. But just for the record I’m talking bout their advice and not either of them. Besides there’s no telling what those hoes gots or EVEN worse what they don’t. I keep telling myself, I FUCKING quit. This place I OMIT. In this moment still I stay. Day after day after day. Well… I definitely don’t wanna be a working gurl forever.

Why can’t I just live a simple life? Be a dedicated house wife? Earn enough money to slice this strife like a rusty horror knife. Or be discovered by a repeatable talent agency? This is why I rage you see? The struggle is MEGA real to me. Short ended is da DEAL cut to me homie. So is my hair. Now pay your fair. Can’t really say da same for everyone. Guess I’m just home alone. But is this TOO much to ask for? Where did I go wrong? The days be long and go on and on. What did I do in a former past life to deserve this? Cause now I’m REAL pissed. Just recently I posed this question upon one of my co-hoes Miss Ms. She randomly suggested that we must have been serial killers to be punished like this. That came straight from one of our top-notch bitches Blondie herself.

She knows da boulevards are HARD and Lonely’s Little Whore House is even HARDER. I’ll tell you what…. Prepping nut sacks ALL day can be VERY tiring. Fluff Baby, Fluff! Huff Baby Huff! Puff Baby Puff! In and out and out and in again. Always with a smile whether you’re enjoying it or not. Don’t wanna upset da clientele, they may not return. Oh, durn…. GOOD! Cheap bastards. GO HOME back to da trailer or da hood where you’s came from. Where should I begin? Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Please DON’T cum again. Stay away. Go be gay. Idk somewhere else. Curl up with the Mrs. and not me you see. You’ve proven you can’t pay da fee. Isn’t that what the wifey’s for anyways? Oh, gee!!!! Order her to lather your buns and heat-up your beef tips on her grill to get your thrill you feel?

This kitchen’s CLOSED whether liked or opposed. For you, I’m done touching my toes. If you’re sober or dosed. Besides, tossing your salad IS extra and not included with secret sauce concentrated or undiluted. OK that’s enough!!! NEXT subject. I have better thangs to talk about than THAT Shit Show Rodeo! Likes my homegurl who recently posted a pic of herself. Now I had to call a BITCH out! Don’t be posting no pics if you don’t want this hoe-to-day trick coming at you REAL thick. Like the flame from a brand new Bic. Now my gurl did look cute in her faux-toe don’t you know. HOWEVER, it was fake from daybreak. She was posted up in front of a pool. But trust Mamma didn’t raise no fool (she just married one, hun)! Posing like she owns her own mansion. She’s just flashing and flodging that Samsung.

So no mansion nor no pool otherwise I would be over there RIGHT now. FOWL! I told her that her pic MUST be digitally enhanced and the authenticity had no chance. She needs to take it down. Probably fooling with Russians round town. They’ll gets you in trouble and I mean on da double. Don’t mean to BUST no bubble. BUT what da FUCK…?! Yes, for another minute Ima run this dick suck up a muck. Relentless like a young buck. She’s looking like one of those rap star’s gurlfriends. YUCK! Becky look at her butt. Make me wanna up-chuck. My day just went super skunk. Take my nerves and make them go slam dunk. Put me in a real nasty BAD funk. Guess I just needs to chill. Maybe go grab me a VEGAN meal. As long as no one is copping a feel. Now don’t have me come take the wheel. Well, that’s all the dirt I’ll spill. I just took me a Happy Pill.

-Dirty Pour

DISCLOSURE: All of the subject matter posted, written, and blogged is fictional. Included however not limited to, characters, names, places, and/or things that are created for the amusement and pleasure of our readers enjoyment. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns. Feel free to contact us directly. Thank You.

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour on 06.13.17 at 5:37 PM

Chapter VII

FUNHOUSE

Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen! It’s yours truly, Dirty Pour. Well I’m back to serve you up some more grapevine gore galore. I know for awhile there you’ve been craving my weekly dish. Didn’t really mean to make you wait on hold, draw two, or go fish! But lately there hasn’t been anythang to chat about that’s juicy nor delish. That is at least subject matter to bother ranting about… yet, PLEASE have no doubt! ALL that has soon changed… from just plain and mundane old Dirty Pour to absolutely, DERANGED in the membrane!!!! I have some WONDERFUL updates to broadcast, just you wait!!! Sooo…? The GREAT news is, I’m a muse for an Artist formally singing the blues. Yes, BITCHES!!! I’m a model now and for the LOVE of the Arts my body can be used. Wouldn’t be the first time… Looks like it won’t be the last…. Let’s discuss the present now and NOT my dirty little past….

The name of the Exhibition is SHOWTIME and it gonna be a blast!!! In a gallery attached to a pub with a VERY talented cast. A variety of local Artists each destined to last. Rumor even has it that Ms. Disaster-Relief Spills will be willing to export the thrills, giving you lots of chills for your folding bills. Not really sure for whom that fulfills but the BITCH do gots creativity and on going skills. Check her out as she’s snug and stout representing for that color green. Allegedly she is doing Performance Art, whateva THAT is supposed to mean. Unfortunately, I will not be attending due to me handling my other THING. Howeva, my image will… and It ain’t no mugshot up in BOOK-ing. Now that’s a first. Ahhh… YES. BUT don’t go there Ms.Ting!!! I’ve been at my worst. LIFE has tossed and dunked me around it’s boxing ring. NOW that is in reverse. I owe it all to you my Dirty Pour nursed. YOU all my viewers, you gimmie Sooo…! MUCH love it’s about to BURST! My ego that is… speaking of bursts…

Did I ever tell you about that time that I worked for a circus in a place called the Court Jester’s big FUNHOUSE? Where I proudly wore my costume with the loose flowing blouse. I’ll tell you what, it was EVERYTHING but fun. Working there I felt like a nun on the run with a stolen handgun. There was lots of hoops and shoots I had to crawl, jump, & suspend myself into as well as out of. Tight rope walking high, high above. Soaring like humming bird, eagle, or dove. This place was the pits, the opposite of ANY Ritz. Theatre or cracker. Just a bunch of chatter. It did howeva make me go into mad tantrums, fusses, and fits! Nightmares too did I encounter, the shakes, the shivers, and even the shits!!! Let’s go over more about the Court Jester’s big FUNHOUSE and less about me. There was MANY smoking mirrors, CLOWNS, monkeys, and elephants you see. While I ran around in my FUNHOUSE pants just trying to dance it up. The clowns put on all of their suits with TONS and TONS of make-up. Much like the white trash females featured in two gurls one cup.

Then they ALL would climb high piling up and squeezing tight. VERY sweaty and gross, and bunched up JUST like bedbugs or well feed mites. Moments before jumping out into our audience going around and around, through out the whole night. The elephants and clowns would perform together and it was a terrible sight. Actually you couldn’t tell them apart, GOD what a fright. It was like looking at a bad, used, smelly living room set with worn, scratched-up leather. Rented to own someday by a THOT named Heather. Trust me, I’ve seen MUCH, MUCH, MUCH, better. Rubbing sandpaper on my crotch under a wool sweater has gotten me wetter. Oh, yes…and the monkeys that we had there did well, whatever. It was one of the MOST saddest acts THAT I have ever seen. I would laugh so HARD to myself that I would almost split a seam. I kept waking up everyday hoping it was but a midsummer’s dream. No, just clowns face tossing each other pies filled with cream.

Looking back, very few people would come out for the show. Not even the ring master, I’m telling you a TOTAL disaster don’t you know. I worked many of nights and it would be Sooo…! fucking SLOW!!! I kept thinking WOW this FUNHOUSE sure does BLOW! Still day after day I got ready for work till one day they let me go. Yay! Finally I was free to be followed by a whoopee, yippee, shaking a tittie. And a, “UNIVERSE, I do thank thee”!!! All cheerfully full of glee. Speaking of a flying monkey star, what about that kook named Hoe-Man’s Scar? Talk about putting your foot in your mouth, then chewing it till you reach down South. Examine the FACT that she’s always been a controversial person. Howeva I think her tastelessness surely has worsened. I just chalked it up as yet another publicity stunt. A camera hog thirsting like an ape on the hunt. While twinkling in the wee hours of the night being a CUNT. She should have been tweeting about how her TV show pairs nicely with a BLUNT. She blamed the odd behavior on a sleeping med. HOE if you ain’t chatting up your show reROOT, then you should GO TO BED!!!

Now your Million Dollar Empire, suddenly it’s DEAD. Naturally the pharmaceutical company fired BACK at her rear. Proclaiming even though their product does in fact have side effects, my Dear. RACISM is NOT one of them and they made THAT very, very, CLEAR. In other words, continue taking their product without any FEAR. Maybe THIS sleep aid company should come out with a product that would wipe away Bigotry. Until that time comes I’ll still continue bromancing with those butch muscle queens and their Grandeur Faggotry. Predictability not needed, the President gratuitously skeeted on her babble that was tweeted with his social media meat. [YAWN!] Trump-a-Bump-Bump you’re starting to bore me…. NOW come lick these FEET!!! His shock value is becoming extremely WEAK. Plus his hairdresser should be the one NEXT for him to DELETE!!! Lace front for men ALREADY!!! His hair is like a song with no BEAT. Well, until next time…. I’m ready for my rest medicine and my cocktail stirred NEAT!!!!

-Dirty Pour

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour on 08. 24.18

Chaptr VIII

HOUSEWORK

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!” Hello Ladies and Gentleman it’s yours truly, Dirty Pour. Doing a little late Spring Cleaning otherwise known as HOUSEWORK. But actually I’m not cleaning at ALL. That’s right, I’m setting on my fat, lazy, ass. Like a filthy little piglet with a whole lotta sass. I’m sad to say but it’s ALL true. Dirty Pour’s OLD, mad, COLD, & blue. I remember back in the day when I had gots these here Vegan lamb-chops tucked and cuddled, ready for plucking underneath my cyber micro mini skirt and YES matching dog collar (pumps NOT always included in certain locations). Giving you strong sensations. I could make you holler and exhale for while in exchange for a few Benjamin dollars…. I’m feeling SALTY, bitter, and Depressed. Really, Dirty?! YES! YES! I do confess IMA big ol mess in a dress who just finished up their LAST synopsis. Where O’ Where is my future ex-Papadopoulos? Or my Superbpoundapuss? Or a Sniffabumpoffacockofalottalust? Or my Candy War-Buckamegalopolis? Or my Dianerodhamawaspforus? Or simply someone who LOVES to spoil me ROTTEN and likes it when I fusssssss…!!! Trussss…

Raise a family together. My mood would be better. Build a HUGH Mc Mansion to shield us from any stormy weather. Our bedroom and kitchen’s color would be Gray, Heather. With two little ones so cute and another on da way. I want at least three so they can have each other to play. If my lover shall leave, child support best believe they will pay. When it comes to money honey, Cruella don’t play. I wanna name my 1st baby Proper Pour cause they going be like me you see. I wanna to name my 2nd baby Double Pour cause they going be twice as dirty, flirty, and very wordy. MY 3rd baby Slinga Pour cause by then IMA be suffering from sore titty galore, won’t wanna sling no more. Years of changing diapers will be way too shitty, for shore. Will my partner and I still wanna chill after having stretched out kittyville? Fish outta water, wide open gill. tilted uterus and blown out cervix your chomping mouth, a blinged out grill. Keeps munching and crunching acting like it’s a 7 course meal. When really my 5 star banquet hall has fallen to a three dollar deal.

I’ve been sitting here contemplating ALL da HOUSEWORK that I have to do. Scrubbing floors and moving furniture makes me wanna boohoo. I mean yes there is an abundance of prosperity… and an abundance of hott mess. Hopefully I’ll be blessed from my lack of rest. I have rigorously given time, due diligence, precision, tenacity, accuracy, what more must I invest in thee? Yeah, I know. Yeah, I know. I’m trying to contemplate how we got in this predicament in da first place you hoe. I say HONEY if you gots BEEF, take it to a dance flow. Leave da drama with your mamma and let da BEATS go!!! Meet me on da dance floor you whore. Or just lean there and be a bore. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Let’s go back to my room. Now all I needs is a LOVER by this past June, 100 carats REAL soon, and a mother FUCKING classy ass traditional honeymoon. Then whomever can conquer my womb with da Dick of Doom or we can swap each otha’s clits to consume. Then shortly after I would build a loom to weave da new family’s throw overs, spritzed with colonel and perfume.

Howeva, time is running out…. My ovaries are starting to shrivel up not sprout. Like dried-out outdated cranberries found in da back of a lunchbox made in da late 80’s. Bought at a thrift store as a novelty item that could be taken to Haiti. But was forgotten about until forced to eating them for nourishment to stay alive, CRAZY!!! Because that was ALL you had while you’re stranded on a highway like a tramp or a bag lady. Therefore you have to start walking, in da middle of NOWHERE Baby. Due to over sleeping and missing your destination then waking up VERY hazy and THAT bus driver was Sooo…! VERY kind but lazy. Like trafficking Ms. Daisy, howeva kind enough to drop you on off rite THERE (in a different city, I know it only gets worse from here). ONLY to have a cop stop you to deregulate you and begin interrogating you. Of course you ask da trooper why are you being stopped (like any other victim that you see on da news tube).

It doesn’t end here, at least with this adventure, Dear…. Officer FUCK-you-Gently informs you you can’t be on da freeway without a vehicle. You ask him if he’d be so kind and drive you to da next exit hoping for a miracle. As you embarrassingly wipe away sweat trickle. No, he replied being tacky, petty, fickle. He says he would if you were lost deep in da woods. Treating you like a deteriorating termite infested nickle that’s no good. But since you were out along a busy area that was visible, you could keep your wiggle and jiggle to that next exit as you giggle. Sooo…? You then start to flex like a Mex running strait to Tex dodging a Santeria hex before Trump-dump’s wall is in FULL effects. Naturally your next exit is where those semi truckers have their rest stop. Swiftly you do a little truck stop hop and earn you a few coins to get home safe. No time to waste. There’s about 30 drivers to taste. At his point don’t matter what race. Hopefully you have a little grace and are wearing a thong backed lace. Now if they don’t pay you up front then spray them with mace.

Before I forget I wanna apologize to ALL of you Dirty Pour supporters. I have not been writing sooner because I’ve been having Dyker’s Block not to be confused with a Dirty Block. For those of you who don’t have a clue, Dyker’s Block is when someone who is an Artist or Writer from the LGBTQAH Community or supporter has writers or creative block. A Dirty Block or Dirty Blocking is in which you get cut-throat cockblocked by a trained, skilled, and lethal Cockblocking Agent. Example A. You’re with someone who you’re digging as well as a homie to wing you. Instead they drug you then fuck that person you were feeling rite next to you while you’re knocked out. Example B. You’re relaxing at home watching a movie with a date when your roommate conveniently comes home proclaiming “Gees, you’re bringing a different one EVERY nite!” “Btw. Did you and THAT otha thang ever gets your test results back yet?” Well, kiddies farewell and remember keep it cute and keep it clean!

– Dirty Pour

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!”

by Dirty Pour on September 7, 2018

Chapter IX

BLACKOUT

“Guess what I did last weekend, Gurl!” Wouldn’t YOU like to know… only problem is I too would like to know too hoe. I’m a little slow don’t you know. I can’t remember a DAMN thang .We’re talking BLACKOUT BANG! ZANG! Non the less I’m still kicking!!! Like that GMO chicken you was licking, smacking, slurping, picking and scroungy dipping!!!! Your table manors and taste, I am through with ALL of it Boo. In fact I smell doodoo, like Tricky Mirage says I’m shitting on your whole life, you yes, you. Anyways my little rant just took a Tootle Lou. Well did everyone have a swell Labor Day? Lord knows I did with THIS potential rheumatoids in my ankle regions wanting me tore every which way! My feet swoll up Sooo… bad you’d think it was Sunny Sandals without any ice pack to keep that swelling back. Raw. Red. & Wrecked. Is the title of my Autobiography I’m working on. You know a gurl these days gots to stay busy and be STRONG Try to keep a BITCH down BUT not for long!!!

BLACKOUT
noun
noun: blackout; plural noun: blackouts; noun: black-out; plural noun: black-outs.
  1. a failure of electrical power supply.ss
    “due to a power blackout, their hotel was in total darkness”
    synonyms: power failure, power outage, brownout

    “there must have been a blackout—all the clocks are blinking”
    • a period when all lights must be turned out or covered to prevent them being seen by the enemy during an air raid.
      “people found it difficult to travel in the blackout”
    • dark curtains put up in windows to cover lights during an air raid.
    • a moment in the theater when the lights on stage are suddenly turned off.
  2. a suppression of information, especially one imposed on the media by government.
    “there is a total information blackout on minority interests”
    synonyms: suppression, silence, censorship, gag order, reporting restrictions

    “a news blackout”
    • a period during which a particular activity is prohibited.
      “there are no blackout days during the travel period”
  3. a temporary loss of consciousness.
    “she was suffering from blackouts”
    synonyms: fainting spell, faint, loss of consciousness, passing out, swoon, collapse;

    syncope

    “he had a blackout”

Now even though someone who has a BLACKOUT can be a hilarious sight to see, however this can also be a VERY dangerous and a VERY deadly EXPERIENCE as well. As stated above there are three types of a BLACKOUT. Which is 1. Electrical Failure; 2. Government Censorship; 3. Consciousness Loss. Either way any or all of these come with a cost. For instance Maria caused between $30 Million to $90 Million in damages during Puerto Rico’s BLACKOUT toss. The O’Jamma administration has used the Freedom of Information Act to increase rather than decrease government secrecy. In 2013, it increased use of exemptions to bar release of requested files by 22% over the previous year, according an analysis by the Associated Press. Messy. Messy. The government fully denied or redacted large portions of files in 36% of the 704,394 requests submitted. Let’s not gets started on Trump-a-Bump-Bumps and his fake news BLACKOUT.

Our third BLACKOUT lies in losing your state of consciousness to the point of not being in control of your actions nor being perceptive of the things round you. Or where you BLACKOUT completely to the point of no return, Boo. Ass up, thong keeping your ankles warm while YOU are thru. Only thang going to pull you back together is ALL of the King’s horsemen & ALL of da King’s men with cement glue. Just make sure that they don’t circle jerk you once you’re ALL brand new & ready to do the do. Besides ALWAYS being White Gurl Wasted is becoming a little tasteless. Nonetheless. On a serious note a BLACKOUT can also lead to RAPE, robbery, or even DEATH. Come on LADIES, it’s Home Gurl Season & Buddy System is GREAT for the HEALTH! A friend & family safety network is just as POWERFUL as a high end security system of the wealth.

SISTERHOOD & BRO-CODE When a BLACKOUT Level 3 occurs Bro-Code as well as Sisterhood should be in FULL effect! 1.If you come together leave together, NO sweat. 2. Can’t wake them up but their life may be in danger then you become the Urban Ranger Vet. Dial 911 or take then to a Hospital EVEN if it’s your fault. Strait up. Legit. Drop them off at the ER and hall ass I mean REAL far REAL fast till you almost run outta gas. Be a Mother Fucking Hero and NOT a Sorry Ass Zero. If you’re out & about roll in packs with fully charged tasers & cellys. CHEERIO! NEVER leave a drink unattended. Have a code between bros only you two know what each other is saying but NO one else is. Fun has ended. Any verbal fights before night ends must be amended. No pun intended. Get it?! If you feel you’ve been unwillingly drugged and/or raped report it. You could be someone’s hero or heroine and be proud of what you did. And EVERYONE who gives fraudulenct accusations, go to HELL!

-Dirty Pour

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