Exploring all things that make me go "Hmmmm..." and delving into brainwashing schemes, scams, tricks and treats.
Searching For Sula
Searching for Sula
Sex & Sandwiches
I had no idea what I would be walking into when I entered the front doors of what seemed to be a mansion to me. This was clearly not the lifestyle that I was accustomed to. I grew up in a two bedroom apartment, with my mom and two younger siblings; Jake and Jenna. Jenna watched and emulated everything that I did. From my first self-tailored Mohawk with blue bangs to my Marlboro chain smoking. Mom wanted me to set a better example, but it was too much responsibility for me. I wasn't one for responsibility and certainly was not about to take ownership of someone else's. Jake on the other hand was the angel of the family. He was a lovable nerd who begged me not to go to Cancun. But this was my chance to be on television. A chance to show the world that I was a force to be reckoned with and that my face deserved to be seen on the screen.
When I arrived to Cancun, there was a limo waiting. I'd never ridden in one before, but was not going to let on to anyone that this was a new experience for me. I tried to play it cool as I pulled out my Marlboro's and fired one up in the back seat. I opened the sun roof and stood tall through it. The Mexican air whipped through my now lengthy blonde and brown colored Mohawk and my dangling earrings followed suit.
I loved the attention as the cars that I passed honked at me and the men yelled out of their windows. I know they wondered who I was and where I was going. I felt like a star and was certainly going to become one.
I wondered what the other girls were going to be like once I got there. I didn't want to get into a fight on the first night, but guess what? In a house of full of bad girls, it was going to get live quick and fast. In previous seasons, the alpha female always had to establish dominance. That's how animals are so that's no surprise. I'm different. I won't need to walk around proclaiming to be queen. Truth is, I AM a queen and the only attention that I will be desiring over the next ten weeks will be that of these Mexican hombres.
When the limo delivered me to the house, there were four other girls there. Lola, the girl with the cute face and figure to match whose name didn't suit her, greeted me first. She was all smiles and I could smell the vodka on her breath. She pulled me in tight with a hug like we were long lost friends. She was cool, but I had a feeling that I would be beating her face in next week. Jacqui, who was clearly butch, but very cute, stared longingly at my breasts. She lifted her beer bottle and gave a nod with a half wicked smile. I thought that was a cool greeting and was certain she and I would be really close friends.
Charlissa, a voluptuous black girl with a really great weave, smiled, gave me a light hug and said, “You better get your drink on now, bitch!” She seemed to be really cool and I could tell that she would be the one who was going to be the most honest.
Then there was Daphne. With her short dark-dyed, punk rock style cut. She was a very lean pasty-hued chick with oversized boobs and no behind. I knew her . . . and she knew me. Our eyes locked and faces hardened. She threw her empty glass straight toward my head like a pitcher at Wrigley Field. My nimble reflexes took over and I dodged it very coolly as if I were a stunt double in the Matrix. When I heard the glass shatter behind me, I ran toward her with fire in my eyes. I reached for her throat with one hand and pounded her face with the other. The girls were shouting around us as I could feel her gripping at the lowest strands of my Mohawk until she locked onto the longer tresses and began to tug.
I never fought like the average chick. It was too girly to grab someone’s hair, I wanted to see proof of how I beat someone up. A black eye, a bloody nose, maybe even a busted lip, not a few strands of their oily hair loosely wrapped around my fingers.
Just when I was about to get the best of her, two husky men grabbed us both and pulled us apart. My scalp was throbbing from where my hair had been pulled, but as I looked at Daphne and her wailing mouth, there it was. The proof. Her mouth was red on the inside, a trickle of blood just on the side of her thin lips. To me, I had won. She was pissed off and I was laughing. Immediately, Charlissa pulled me away and wanted the dirty details on why Daphne and I had swung off on each other.
“Girl, what was that shit about?” Charlissa screamed. “I don’t even know your name yet! What the hell is your name?”
“I’m Jersey. But she knows what it was about,” I offered. “All I can say is one of us is going home tonight and it won’t be me. I’m a REAL bad girl - bitch is an impostor!”
I could still hear Daphne yelling obscenities from the kitchen along with items being tossed around. All I know is that I have problems sleeping anyway, so I’ll be up all night. The minute she falls asleep, it will be lights out for her. I’m glad the season started like this, like I said, I’m on my way to stardom and Daphne’s face will be the welcome mat I need.
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