Only me.

I swear. Only I can get stalked on the way to get busy with myself.

This is straight bullshit. My plans were foiled in the worst way. Now there may be times when you're driving that you think you're being followed. Usually, that shit aint the case, you're being paranoid.

My paranoia has a basis, cemented deep in my reality.

I saw someone that looked like one of the criminal ex-es of the past. I brushed it off. Didn't think anything else of it.

Until I got off the freeway, and realized that this fool was still behind me. So I start wasting gas, just to see if he is following me for sure. I pull into the Home Depot parking lot, so does he. I stop my car, he parks too. I start my car and drive a little further to the mall. I think I've lost him, so I double around the lot a few times and then head out the exit. I take the street to the hotel. Who is behind me but the possible ex. So I'm like, "man, fuck this". I put on my damsel in distress face, pull over in a gas station where I saw some police and bright lighted them twice. They turned their car off. He pulls in on the side of me and rolls his window down... sho nuff it was this nigga from 1998. Talkin about he couldn't believe it was me. He "wasn't tryin to scare me", but he didn't want to let me go without seeing if it was really me. I'm like, "Homie, I understand, but on the real... don't even bother. No hard feelings, but I've moved on. I suggest you do the same." I rolled my window up and flashed the brights again. After that I was done. The cops saw the whole thing, and they followed me back to my house (one of 'em was kinda fine).

My night of self-love was derailed by a stalkalistic asshole.

Is there no end to my torment? Is there no peace in the damn valley for me? No. Hell no. And I ain't done... I broke my damn Honey Bear.

I was like, fuck this. I paid all that money for these things, I'mma use them. So I just pissed everyone off with my excessive shower time once more. Anyway, the Honey Bear fit after some coercion on my part. But I turned the damn motor up too high I guess, because now it goes when I don't want it to. I have to remove the batteries to make it stop. That shit sucks, because the Honey Bear was definitely the best investment. Once I got used to it, it was the absolute shit. I mean, this thing can actually fuck on its own, and it has different speeds, and a clit-tickler. I think I abused the poor thing. Somehow I figured I'd either burn out the batteries or kill it on the first try. It ain't dead... it's quite the opposite. I love it though. That is my new favorite toy. I'm kinda scared of it, because I know that regular sex is gonna pale in comparison to this magnificent, multi-tasking fake dick. I mean, dude is gonna have to step his game up so damn tight... no shorts no losses. I've probably set myself up for mediocre sex, but that'll help me keep it to myself until I get married. Because if I love the man I'm with, then I'll love his dick, even though it doesn't come with a multi-speed clit-tickler in the shape of a cute little bear.

It is perfectly safe to say that tonight has ended in disaster. I can't believe I was thwarted from my planned extacy. It was planned to perfection. But I always underestimate the niggas I've kicked to the curb. It ain't that many of them. They may be few in number, but they are relentless in their pursuit. It's so hard not to be conceited knowing how niggas go all out over this. Sex aint no substitute for love. I know that. But nothing inflates the ego like some pussy whipped stalkers that are still suffering after all this time. I am truly the shit. Ain't no other way to say it.

I just wish the fucker coulda waited until after I'd checked in, got down, got drunk, and left the hotel to chase me down.