How to fill a void

Hello my little twat munchers!  I hope your Friday is going as fantabulously as it is here in the Kingdom.

What has me in such a perky mood?  Well let me show you.

The poor Queen has been miserable lately, what with most of the Royals up and leaving her.  Damn whores. Not to mention a bunch of other crap going on around here that has her down and dumpy.

It's really starting to foul this Kingdom up dude.  I can't sell no booze with this woman moping around attacking people for smiling!

So I decided a night out was in order.  We got all dolled up

and I took her to see Magic Mike.

Five minutes in and that woman was her old self again.

We gave the boy ushers a couple blow jobs and watched that shit 4 times without having to pay.  By the time we left our panties were soaked, our knees wobbly and that old bird was giggling like a hyena.

On our way out she grabbed me and said "Bartender, I know what we're going to do today" and I said "What's that Phineas?"

"We're going to put those John's to work for us.  We'll have our own fucking male strip club, all day, all night.  Jimmy Choo's will be the admittance fee!"

Then she paused and said "Wait where's Perry"...

we have been watching too many fucking cartoons. 

We skipped home and got to work.  First we had to put the boys through a few tests.

This guy gave me a run for my money, damn bastard mixed drinks like I never imagined.  Who knew a cock stir was the best utensil! Good thing the Queen didn't notice or I'd be out of a fucking job.

This was the hardest one of all.  The butt test.  We had them standing every which way, stretching, lunging, the whole nine, to make sure that that ass was tasty in all directions and angles.  That took hours.  But the boys were good sports about it.  Even when the Queen asked if they could show her what teabagging was.

We played a good game of "I don't know how to handle balls" to see if their technique was up to our standards. They happily showed us.  We happily enjoyed.

Then came the ultimate test...

The Queen lost her measuring tape after the first one, so we had to use our mouths and coochy snorchers to measure.  That took a few days.

All passed with flying flag poles.

Once the boys had been thoroughly examined, we had our crew.  Of course then we had to teach them how to dance and strip and man are my wrists and knees tired after all that.  These men are primed, fluffed and ready my friends.

But we have a slight problem that we need your help with.  They are all named John.  The Royals like not having to remember names, half the time we're too drunk to remember our own, but it gets confusing for the customers.  We have to come up with names for all these boys!  Any ideas?

The guy above walked in and we passed out.  We're thinking of calling him Titon, god of the wet pussies. Or Thor...when that man thrusts you hear and feel the thunder baby.

And then we saw this guy below, while on a booze run and the Queen said "I must have him" so have him she did.  

Many, many times.

I have given out two names, this is Bo Dangles, he set the push up standard very high.

This is Sir Mix A Lot, although he asked to be called Jack Daniel.  We are in negotiations.  It may take a while to agree on a name for him considering he keeps changing is damn mind.  The second my lips touch his cock he gives in, it's the weirdest thing.

So there ya go, our crew.  I think they are all happy with their promotions.  No more scrubbing toilets and buying us tampons.  

Cheers Bitches

What are you gonna do about it?

Ok mother fuckers, I know it's been a while since I've posted and told of all the wild and crazy shit us Royals do, I'm sorry.  Life happens.

Things around Titty Whiskers has been boring as fuck, and around the Royal grounds it's been a bit emotional.  As if we've all been struck with 24/7, 365 day PMS.  Trust me when I say, it's been for the best that I've stayed behind the bar and served drinks instead of telling you about our latest stints in jail.


Many many stints.

We know the Police department reeeeal well now.

But I digress.

I'm trying to clear up the dust that's accumulated around here.  It's bad for business not to mention us twats can't stop sneezing into our shot glasses.  We need to cheer our asses up pronto otherwise someone is going to shot.

So get your high heels on girls, pull up those thongs and lets have us some fun!

Cheers bitches

Getting the dust off the bottles

Am I the first to tell you about our trip?  Wait let me go check the fuckers blogs to be sure...

Why yes, yes I am.  MWUAHAHAHA.

There were a couple birthday's in the Royal family recently, and to protect our asses we won't be naming any names.  Probably because the Queen herself said 'Bitches, it is law that you cannot age.  It means I will age, and I fucking refuse.  No birthdays in this Queendom!'.  We bowed down, said yes your majesty and ran away to switch out her liquor with water and tea to get back to our corner to earn some cash.

Then she declared, we need a new trip, she's bored and for the love of all things holy, FIND NEW TRANSPORTATION.  Well we all looked at each other and said fuck a duck..which the duck squealed with glee until she realized we were exclaiming not promising.  With what money?  We all just spent our monthly stipend on shoes, bags and new wigs for our nightly strip tease.

I would like to take credit for coming up with an amazeballs idea to help with our cash flow.  Boob jobs.

BOOB jobs my friend.  You see, you can use a boob job as a tax write off.  Did you know this shit and withhold it from us?  Why didn't anyone tell us this before?!  So I called up Princess Vet, as she knows those amazing surgeons in the Hollywood Hills, we did a few BJ's, lapdances and one of us may have begged shamed herself with some anal and voila, boob jobs all around.  Even the Queen, was gleefully begging strangers on the street to feel her new accessories.

Go ahead and touch em, they feelz so real!

So with our new beautiful chi-chi's filling out our tops to bursting, tips started coming in wicked fast, it was like watching mushrooms popping up in a meadow...

Our jars quickly filled up and low and behold, we had money for a trip.

Now the problem was, where the hell do we go?  And most importantly, are we barred from returning again?  That's when, another brilliant idea popped up.  We can get around those rules, we can visit and see whatever and where ever we want, with a simple change of transportation...

Look up, bitches!

The life of a Royal Bartender

My typical day begins a little like this:

I sit up and look around and realize the bar is trashed...

There's nothing left to drink

I sigh and drag myself to the closet to change into my cleaning uniform

While the Royals 'hide' to get out of cleaning up their shit

As usual, I get a few things picked up and then Duchess and Princess Vet begin whining like bitches that they are thirsty and hungry.  I have to tell them there's no booze, there's no brownies, there's only ice and water.

"Excuse me?  Do you know who the fuck I am" Duchess asks, Princess Vet says "Ooooh you are so getting it!" and PWT whispers to Duchess 'Go for the boobs, they'll pop and maybe there's Vodka'.

You'd think they'd get the point but no, they is stupid bitches ya know.

Queen comes walking in around this time, as if on cue and totally rehearsed, Big Balls by ACDC playing (I swear it's coming from her skirt) her theme song this week.

"Girls, girls, the Queen has saved you, the limo is packed to the ceiling with all your goodies"

The Royals get in line and saunter outside to get their gifts from Queen.

And I gladly locked the door, ignoring the girls pounding for me to let them in. 

"No way hookers!" I shout, laughing maniacally.  I have a bar to clean, those poor drunk ass circus midgets to release from their binds, and figure out why I have a pool stick shoved up my ass....

How many times do we have to go through this before someone learns their lesson?

Cheers bitches.

I'm being hunted

I was given orders from PWT to put the skanks on lock down as she tried to fool The Judge that it's safe to release The Queen from detox.  Who tells a bartender to stop selling their wares to their best customers? Really?  I gave PWT a finger and a laugh and she happily shoved a red hot poker up my ass.

Too bad for her, I enjoy that kind of thing.

Once she realized this she took him away, and no matter how much I begged and pleaded, she wouldn't give him back...so I relented and agreed but on my terms...I got the poker back.  I have my priorities straight!

Sister Wife came up with a fabulous idea, turn the bar into a 50's diner.  Oh hecka hell yes!  The waiters are now dressed in greaser attire and I am wearing my Halloween costume from last year...

I gathered all the Royals in the back room promising a surprise.  There was giggles of new John's or even a shoe sale.  I had all the tables all decked out in the new decor and their drinks waiting for them.  And then I lied like a whore on her wedding night.  "No girls these aren't Long Island Ice Tea's, it's called Southern Ice Tea.  The kick comes later, don't worry".

Except Princess Vet knew better and the jig was up faster than the box boy got up my skirt.

I ran.

They chased me.

And then I had a brilliant idea.

A crazy and brilliant idea.

I'm being hunted by the Royals while PWT breaks Queenie out of detox.   We don't have to worry about The Judge finding their sorry asses, nope nope.  They won't be able to find their way home since I ate the damn brownie crumbs Dutch dropped!  Stupid whores can't find their way home without me, mwuahahaha.

Of course I packed my bags and brought some entertainment with me.  I also came up with the best decoy....

And the best disguise of all time.

On a hunt for duct tape and brownies...

to shut these bitches up and keep 'em still.

The Queen has been forced into detox is taking a little vacation and the whores are on a rampage.  It's like 'Mama's gone we can go apeshit now' to these twats.

We have holes in the windows, in the walls, chairs are missing the legs, and the stripper pole has some poor John strapped to it with bras.

I called Betty Ford clinic this morning but was told sweetly by the receptionist that Her Majesty is not taking calls, she didn't see the severity in our predicament...I was left on my own.

In the three second phone call, the girls came up with a plan, or so I'm guessing as that was the only time they had been quiet all night and morning.  The next thing I know PWT and Princess Vet are singing at the top of their lungs "Free Balling".  

I don't think Tom Petty would have complained that they changed the lyrics to his song, and the John's sure as hell didn't.

Every time I grabbed one of them, the others would get into mischief, most especially running away with booze

Once they lost their clothes, I was a bit afraid of where they planned on sticking those bottles.  But then I found where they ran off to, and sighed with relief...until I looked closer

No one will fess up and admit whose idea it was to fill the tub with beer and make their own personal cocktail.  More pointed fingers at Duchess though...All I know is, the Johns were snapping at each other and begging for a drink.

Things calmed down a little after that and I left the girls to tend bar.  Hey we need money, these ho's aren't cheap.  I noticed little by little the men and women were leaving to the back where the stripper pole and the pool tables were. I figured it was about time I checked on the Royals to see what they were doing...

You know the kissing booth at the fair?  This was the fucking booth in the bar.  Each of the Royals had their table and the men were lined up with their wads ready.  I have to give it to them, this was a clever money maker and we may have this as a regular entertainment here at Titty Whiskers.

When I got back to the bar, I had my own line starting.  I shrugged, it's all for business after all.  

Some were even hidden behind the bar and scared me to death when I went back there to change into my stilletos.  You know, costume and all.  No one would move so I had to kick and pull some hair to get to my shoe stash, that's really when all hell broke loose

I'm a good hooker, but I have never had that many penis' shoved in my face in my life.  The Royal girls got jealous and jumped us, wanting their attention too.  Turns out, they'd had too much and couldn't keep up... and I was left to take care of the rest...oh the tragedy.

You know come to think of it...I think we may use the duct tape and brownies for other purposes....

Cheers bitches