Freak’em Dress. Fuck’em Hotel.

I’m tired. I can honestly and truly admit that. And it’s only Wednesday but after flying to the Midwest, getting very little sleep and flying back home, then getting up at the crack of dawn to drive to VA, my ass is beat. Pooped. Fatigued.

But let me get to the real reason for today’s blog entry. Normally when I travel, I stay at one of those “chain” hotels like Marriott or Hilton usually because (1) I trust them (don’t make me tell you the story about the joint I stayed at a saw a roach) and (2) I get points. Also, I’m usually the one to book the hotel myself. I am very hotel picky and I don’t want to feel disappointed when I get to a room. But this trip, I slipped. I let my colleague pick the hotel. Really I didn’t book any travel until the night before HOPING that my trip would get cancelled.

My destination: Nebraska. Ne-flippin-braska. You can’t be serious son?!?!?!

I didn’t pay attention to the name of the hotel. I didn’t even have time to do research. Not even look online to see a picture of the place. I just printed out the email Monday morning and rushed to the airport. When I arrive, I noticed the hotel was attached or in the same area as a Casino. Okay, okay, not bad. Plus I saw what looked to be a brand new Holiday Inn within walking distance and that quickly became my plan B. If my hotel was bad, Holiday Inn was getting my money that night. I walked in, checked in, got my key, went up to my room and………

BAAMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know Beyonce’s song? Freak’um Dress??? Well if any woman would’ve been with me wearing a freak’um dress, hell, they could’ve been in a business suit, it would have been ON AND POPPIN……

Back in NYC, there were a few fuck’em hotels. Okay wait. More like motels. You know, the spots that charge “hourly” rates which means you really shouldn’t stay over night but if you need a place for a few hours to get your rocks off, go right the fuck ahead (no pun intended). With these spots you have absolutely no right to complain about any of the conditions.

But this hotel room I stayed in was THE BOMB!

I’ve stayed in my share of hotels in my day. Some pretty nice ones at that and this one ranked up there in…let’s say…the top 10.

This was a classic fuck’em hotel room. You know, the type of room you book when you and that special someone, booty call, fuck friend, ass donor, pleasure provider go for the night/weekend to get your fuck on. This was a no room leaving only order room service type of room. This was a you only need 2 sets of clothes (one you came in, one you leave with) type of room. This was a turn your cell phone off cause you won’t have time to answer that shit type of room. This was a bring all your toys and tricks and bring your A game type of room. This was a can’t wait till we go to the hotel cause I’ma f*ck the sh*t out of you type room. By the way, I’ve never done any of the above *innocent look*

Maybe I’m sooo used to staying in these mundane rooms that this one took me by surprise, especially for it to be in Iowa. (Yeah I know I said I went to Nebraska but damnit, I stayed in Iowa). Some amenities…..first off, it was big room. You know how some rooms are like closets?!?!? Nah, this was a real good size. It had a 42 inch plasma tv with HD channels, (get the man stuff out of the way), a couch (not a loveseat) and a chair with an ottoman, a big ass comfy king size bed with maaaaaad pillows. That bed was one of the most comfortablest (I know it’s not a word) beds I’ve ever slept in. Not too soft where you feel like you’re sinking but not too firm where you may as well sleep on the floor. The bathroom was fly as hell. Ceramic tiles, marble and the shower with the clear glass and bench inside. A bench inside the shower stall?!?!?! Do you know what happens inside a shower with a bench inside?!?!?!?!?! You could __________ and then ________ after you __________ (you fill in the blanks yourself) or I could sit there and watch “her” shower giving her the sexy-I-can’t-wait-till-you-finish-I-want-you-now look. So when you’re done with the shower, step out, don’t dry off, stay wet and naked and step into the damn whirlpool. Yes negroes. A damn whirlpool in the room and it was clean!!!!!! I told you it was a fuck’em hotel room. Add some candles and fine wine (leave the Boone’s farm at home playas) and you got yourself the makings of a night. A looooong night….

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~ by alwaysfunkyfresh on November 15, 2006.

3 Responses to “Freak’em Dress. Fuck’em Hotel.”

  1. So what’s the name of the spot B?

  2. I grew up in Iowa….where was this spot?

    I need a fuck’em dress and fuck’em hotel like that.

    I guess you didn’t fuck in the room?

    Fresh; You didn’t knock any stuffin’ off of any muffin’?

  3. No muffin stuffin’

    No fuckin

    Strictly bizness – aint’ that about a bitch?!?!?!

    By the way, Ameristar Casino. Council Bluffs, Iowa.

    Hold up…you ain’t got a fuck’em dress? With all that shit you got? No fuck’em dress. I’m disappointed.

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