Here we go again with another Telescope bitch to review and shamelessly drool over. I swear to God it never ends, but you don't want to hear me complain about this shit, so let's get along with the program. Today, we have JadeTeen. Who is she? I have no idea. She basically figured out that strapping her big ass into a bikini or booty shorts makes her famous, and she's capitalizing on it. There is literally nothing else I know about her. She could be a Nobel Prize winner, and I would still have no idea. Heck, she could be Prince Charles' long-lost sister, and I would still have no clue about it. I only saw the ass; that's what lured me in here.
And I'm not kidding; there are no captivating bios or snapshots or any kind of marketing tricks. She just slapped her ass on Instagram, and boom, she got famous. And I know some of you will rag on me for not doing "journalistic and investigative work," but frankly, I don't care. She could've blown up because Drake sang some corny lyrics about her; I still wouldn't care. Those details don't matter to me. What more could you possibly ask for? You wanted a pretty ass to thirst over? Well, here it is. Stop nagging me about it. Let's move on with this shit.
I don't need to explain myself to you. We are here to message her and see if she responds, right? Normally, I'd channel my inner psychiatrist, Dr. Phil-style, and try to figure out her interests and passions. I usually get lost in an intimate conversation, but nope, not today. I just couldn't be bothered. I wanted to see that ass in black lingerie, so I messaged her. I literally told her, "Hey Jade, show me that ass and a bomb-ass lasagna." Yeah, I am tired of being creative. I just want a picture of her ass. What does lasagna have to do with this? Absolutely nothing. I was just hungry. Look, when you're like me, looking at thirst traps and Instagram thots all day, you get hungry.
The Horny Garfield
I feel like Garfield: lazy, hungry, looking at porn on the internet, except I don't have a John to cook lasagna for me. That's why I am doing this, while I eat cereal and pretend it's peak culinary skills. So, was that smooth at all? Hell no. But was it effective? Hell yeah. It's like putting a brand-new bechamel sauce on your lasagna: creamy and delicious. Got any complaints with the way I talked to her? Well, let's see you do better. Go ahead and message her, then send me an email about what you wrote. Not that I care; I would never respond to you. This isn't customer service. I only talk to celebrities and my bank statements.
Now let's get back to my message: I personally feel like it was the best thing I've ever said to anybody since roasting Billy in high school and making the whole class laugh, including the teacher. But that's not the point. It looks like Jade doesn't appreciate my message, or rather, she doesn't care about it. It has been like five minutes now, and there is still no response, not even a "seen." I didn't have high expectations anyway. She probably has at least 50 other dudes messaging her about lasagna and another one asking for a recipe, and at least a thousand normal ones who want to talk and see her ass naked.
Where do I rank in this hierarchy? Probably at the bottom. But I don't lose hope easily. Sooner or later, she'll respond, and once she does, I'll be eating my lasagna on the couch and jacking off like a horny Garfield in heat, except Garfield's probably neutered, and I'm not. Can you imagine me without testicles? ThePornDude without arousal and sass? I'd be a shell of a man, an empty vessel carrying nothing but thirst traps and memes. That's all hypotheticals. I only care about the facts. The only thing standing between Jade and me is the response time and her attentiveness.
Special Bechamel Sauce
Are you freaking kidding me? Jade actually managed to respond in nine minutes. A new record for Telescope. I'm used to waiting at least 90 minutes for a single "hi, how are you" message, and this chick? She doesn't give a fuck. She's not about to keep me waiting. Jade here broke the three-day rule, and yes, the modern equivalent of the three-day rule is responding in the first 30 minutes. For those born past the year 2000 who don't know what the three-day rule is, well, let me enlighten you. Back in my day, when you'd have to go out and get a date, you would get someone's number, and there was this one little unspoken rule that said: "You can't call them in the first three days." Yeah, they usually wrote the number on a napkin, and I'd bust a nut in it afterwards. Do you know how unusual that is? Not me nutting in the napkin, but her responding this early. You know what her reply was? She literally just said "okay" and then sent a picture of her ass, followed by "as requested."
My jaw hit the floor so hard I think I broke something, probably my jaw muscles. Now, usually I would complain about the fact that there was no lasagna in the picture, but fuck the lasagna, I don't give a shit about that, fuck Garfield. The second you look at her ass, nothing in this universe matters. Your boss is ringing your phone, oh yeah? Fuck that guy, it's ass time; he should know better than to disturb a man during his depraved cycle. Here's the funny part, the part I'm ashamed of: I nutted from one picture, which has never happened before. Even worse, I finished in my lasagna! It's inedible now. I'll probably feed it in the next Brazzers bukkake scene; instead of a nut chalice, it's a nut lasagna, made by the one and only ThePornDude and his house-special bechamel sauce.
Look, I pride myself on being a man who knows his limits, okay, but with Jade, those limits get chained up, dragged by the balls, then thrown in the back of a rusty old van and dumped on the road. In short, they are non-existent. I feel like I would do anything for another ass picture. I'd even sniff Jeff Bezos' left testicle just to touch it.
Who's Controlling Who?
Okay, I pulled myself together somehow and kept messaging her. The more I talk to her, the more I realize that she's just as down bad as I am. I hit her with another unusual request: "Show me those titties with whipped cream on the nipples." And once again, she said, "All right, bet," and sent a picture. Jade, are you all right? You are allowed to say no if you want to. At this point, I'm fully out of requests. I've literally seen Jade do anything and everything that flew across my mind, with the exception of some especially stupid shit. But enough about Jade and me; what are you going to do with her? You have her Telescope, you have her Telegram info, you have the whole world at your disposal. The only requirement is that you stock up on Telegram stars so you can actually unlock the content that she sends you.
So here I sit. Her whipped-cream titties have ruined regular cakes for me. Her ass brainwashed me, and her "sure, let's do it" attitude gave me a whole new outlook on life. Fuck philosophy. Fuck Jordan Peterson. Fuck all that "meditation will change your life" nonsense. Instead, learn from Jade. Learn how to say "fuck it, let's do it" and actually go there and do it. Do you know how many people she's making happy with just her attitude, and she's also getting paid for it, too. And that body? She's not selling it; she's making you a permanent slave to it.
She's catering to your every wish, but little do you know, you're the one catering to her wishes. She's getting what she has always wanted: Money! and you're getting to live out your wildest fantasies. That's a win-win situation if I've ever seen one.
