Morning. It’s Wednesday, the hump of the week. Once more, it’s been a ✨morning✨.
Naturally, this ✨morning✨ followed a ridiculous afternoon. I used the morning to build a simple HTML/JavaScript teleprompter. My robot slave spat out 40-something suggested lines of dirty talk inspiration, which I used to build myself script, since I can not be allowed to ad lib vanilla porn. After Shawshank left for work, I went to work setting things up.
When we were hashing out the basics, the buyer asked for a specific angle, then requested it be on the couch, like my TikTok streams. I figured that’s doable. I set up my “set”, rigged lighting, and tweaked angles so it wasn’t quite so obvious that I was looking at cue cards. At that point, I locked Podrick in the bedroom, ran through a basic “rehearsal”, smoked half a bowl, then did another run through my lines. Naturally, Podrick wasn’t happy in the bedroom, and cried. I figured he’d settle down while I tweaked the script, switching around some lines. He didn’t settle, so I gave him a bowl of food. Pippin woke up and started tearing ass across the house. Whatever, I think, I can deal with her occasionally running around out of view. Then smoked more, then got into character: sparkly heels on, 90% of the clothes off.
And that’s when the doorbell rang.
By the time I put pants and a top back on, they were gone. I heard the person shouting at someone outside, asking “are you sure?” and then walking back across the lawn. I’m fairly certain it was someone looking for the person who lives at the other end of the block of apartments. We had the same problem last year. I think she gives people the address and tells them it’s the apartment at the end of the row, but doesn’t tell them which end.
THERE’S TWO ENDS TO THE ROW, MA’AM.
JESUS TITTYFUCKING CHRIST.
At this point, now I’m dressed. Worse, I’m not high anymore. And – AND – both cats are freaked out because the doorbell rang and that means excitement. Pippin’s running around, Pod’s crying. I could have music on to drown it out, but it can’t be too loud because if I hear it, I’ll lip sync. Giving up, I hauled everything into the bedroom, smoked yet another bowl, hit the vape for good measure, and got my smut on.
I slapped a watermark on it and sent it off to the guy, and he loved it.
