So it is official, I am finally having low self esteem dreams. Last night, I had a dream that I was out partying with my wife back when she was hot. She ended up disappearing on me and running off with some 55 year old rich dude who wasn’t fat and I was scrambling trying to find her. When I did, she had just finished fucking the shit out of the dude and started telling me how much better he was than me and how she was going to be leaving me because she was in love. It turned out the dude was married and wanted nothing to do with her, so she came crawling back to a broken down me. Having no self esteem I took her back and from that point on she knew she had me by the balls.
The truth is that if that happened in my real life, where my wife is 300 pounds, I’d be happy as fuck if this happened because another man would mean that I wouldn’t have to do my husband duties once a month and service her greasy box like some kind of sick mechanic, like I have no choice to do right now, but for some reason waking up from that dream made me feel more worthless than I did going bed next to that bitch.
Speaking of love, here are some pictures of Rihanna with her boyfriend who she claims isn’t her boyfriend in Barbados in her bikini that are uninspiring, even though I find her hot, but they are good enough to start the day. I don’t like that she’s obnoxiously chosen a Pink jet ski, because I hate girls who are obsessed with the color pink and need all accessories to have some pink in it, but I do like their pink. I also like that she’s tapping into her African roots by wearing her Zebra inspired top and mismatched bottom like she can’t afford a bikini that matches like she was in the fuckin’ projects, but the top is good enough for me, it’s like Animal Planet and I would totally get Steve Irwin on her ass like we were at his Australian zoo and I was hunting that shit down to feed it, but Steve Irwin is dead and so is my motivation.