quote:

I lost both of my parents while I was in junior high school. My mother died of breast cancer and my father was already on his way out with his heroin addiction. Pops was found dead under a bridge in Philadelphia after visiting the badlands up where he scored his dope. With no siblings and no family on this continent, I finished high school as a ward of the state.

That's where I really started to hate niggers. I won't apologize for my use of the word. Being around them, having them steal from me, bully me, gang up on me. It was 5 years of constant abuse. I'd go to see my counselor and he'd tell me it was just part of God's plan for me. Pretty funny, since he was one of the reasons I never got relief from the constant harassing and beatings from older black kids.

Despite all of this, I was a pretty good student. I spent more time in the library than most kids my age, since it was one way to avoid the dormitory life at the zoo home where I bunked. Then, without warning I was moved to another dorm in an agricultural area. I chose to attend a vo-tech school and learned how to fix cars, weld and how to build houses. I graduated, joined the Army, did my 4 years driving a 5 ton truck and returned to civilian life with a job waiting. When I had the chance, I bought a brand new Ford Bronco. It was the last year they made it, and it was my first real vehicle.

Driving home from work one day I was t-boned by a bunch of black kids in a stolen Chevy Cavalier. Totaled my drat ride. They stopped about 100 feet away, with their radiator smoking, then took off. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Their front tire was flat, so they actually carved a rut in the road as they drove off. I didn't have a cell phone then, but another guy who saw the accident chased them and saw them ditch the car and then walk a block and go into a house. The cops did nothing with this information.

I decided to let it go. I still had payments on the Bronco even with my insurance claim, but nothing I couldn't handle. Then I started drinking by myself and a woman I was seeing turned me onto dust. I'd smoke it and drink and go outside and try to pull grown oaks out of the ground. I woke up naked in the back seat of my neighbors car, and got arrested a few times acting like a nutjob. I broke into a closed 7-11 and ate ice cream with my bare hands. I didn't think there was anyone there but the Indian guys who ran it lived there. I mused about the irony of getting caught in a 24 hour store that was closed for some reason that night. I was so oblivious that I had been walking around in the middle of a hurricane, and a pretty bad one, too.

Trying to make this short but I got wet and went to the house where these monkeys lived who wrecked my whip. I brought a gallon of 2 cycle gas from my shed and poured it on their porch and set it on fire.

I'd just set an abandoned house on fire while wasted on PCP at 4 am on a work night. The rational thing to do was to go home and drink a 12 pack, call in sick and smoke more greens.

The fire I set injured two firefighters. There were only about 20 witnesses watching me set the place on fire as I loudly screamed on a long, racist rant that had the entire block coming out to watch me. Good thing I had my Glock and fired that into the air. I spent 8 years of a 15 year sentence in a medium security prison, surrounded by more of my favorite kind of people. Funny thing is I wasn't raped by blacks but by the white gang I joined. Now I'm pretty much a model citizen, working at a Jiffy Lube. Thanks for reading.

quote:

You read a lot about people watching too much porno and getting increasingly into disturbed stuff as they become desensitized. I don't know if I believe in that. But I do know I've destroyed my libido and any chance at a healthy relationship!

I got into porn in my teens (like most guys) and swiped my dad's old playboys for spank material. This was before high speed internet was common, we had AOL and the computer was in the family room. Dad's pornos were from the late 80s/early 90s and had a very particular type of girl in them - big boobs, hairy bush, permed hair.

I was in to a lot of nerdy stuff in school and didn't date in high school. At all. But I had those old playboys so I was okay. I also discovered a teenager at the video rental place who would rent me pornos if I slipped him an extra 5 bucks when I rented. So I rented almost every weekend (while the normies were out dating) and primarily rented movies with the same kind of girl - early 90s permed hair, big round silicone breasts, big bush (an occasional landing strip of course, but nobody fully shaved). The clothing became part of it too - I saw a lot of 80s workout spandex in these movies, a lot of leg warmers, headbands, etc. This all formed into my image of a "perfect" sexual being.

In college I had faster internet, which was a blessing and a curse. I was able to search through thousands of videos (thanks to places like stileproject) and it just contributed further to my fetish. Now, I have a phone that instantly connects me to a universe of pornography, with search functions so powerful I can find exactly what I need at any given time in milliseconds.

Which is awesome, except I still haven't dated anyone. I haven't so much as kissed a girl, and I haven't even made eye contact with a woman since college. I don't feel sexual attraction to anyone outside of watching my videos and reading my vintage playboys (yup, I've built my own collection now). I jack off 3-4 times a day, and always fall asleep by jacking off. I realize this is a bit above average but I don't care. Women don't look like that any more - I can only get off to porn stars with late 80s/early 90s looks, and even then, it's a relatively small group of actresses who get me going.

My 33rd birthday was yesterday and I just went to work, got a burrito for dinner, and jacked off an extra 3 times before bed.

JnnyThndrs posted:

Racist arsonist: good try, but 7-11's never close.

new phone who dis posted:

Wouldn't a third world country be a good place to go for 80-90s fashions and hairy bush?

JnnyThndrs posted:

Racist arsonist: good try, but 7-11's never close.

Harakiri Potter posted:

The 7-11 across the street from me closes at 11 o'clock.

JnnyThndrs posted:

No poo poo? Well, maybe it's true then.

ladron posted:

does it open at 7?

OMGVBFLOL posted:

lol that's what your disbelief hangs on

JnnyThndrs posted:

No poo poo? Well, maybe it's true then.

Charles Get-Out posted:

It's obviously a creative writing exercise (like the shooting dogs story earlier), but he does mention that he broke in while the 7-11 was closed due to a hurricane, so at least it's consistent.

quote:

I got into porn in my teens (like most guys) and swiped my dad's old playboys for spank material. This was before high speed internet was common, we had AOL and the computer was in the family room. Dad's pornos were from the late 80s/early 90s and had a very particular type of girl in them - big boobs, hairy bush, permed hair.

I was in to a lot of nerdy stuff in school and didn't date in high school. At all. But I had those old playboys so I was okay. I also discovered a teenager at the video rental place who would rent me pornos if I slipped him an extra 5 bucks when I rented. So I rented almost every weekend (while the normies were out dating) and primarily rented movies with the same kind of girl - early 90s permed hair, big round silicone breasts, big bush (an occasional landing strip of course, but nobody fully shaved). The clothing became part of it too - I saw a lot of 80s workout spandex in these movies, a lot of leg warmers, headbands, etc. This all formed into my image of a "perfect" sexual being.

Solice Kirsk posted:

If he wants 90's perms and clothing then he should move to any rural Iowa town. A simple fix for a simple problem.

Chard posted:

i am the zodiac

the future is WOW posted:

Just post a picture of Lena Dunham, it's the Jastiger signal.

hth posted:

that sounds like a p sweet birthday

quote:

I steal pens from everywhere I go. Hotels, work, banks, people's homes, restaurants, doctor's offices, etc etc etc. Steal maybe isn't the right word, since I replace them with a pen I brought from home.

When I get home I sanitize them and slowly put them up my rear end. I like to imagine all the women that touched these pens sliding their slender fingers up there instead. I'll masturbate then, of course.

After I'm done I'll remove the pen, clean and sanitize it. These are my replacement pens I take with me everywhere.

I travel around the country for work and have been doing this for about a decade. I think there's around 5000 of my rear end pens floating around the country right now. Just thinking about that gets me hard.

quote:

I loving love Halloween and turn my front yard into a cool spooky graveyard every year. My wife and I dress up, we have fun building things and doing makeup, and we give out a ton of candy to kids.

The issue is my 30ish neighbor across the street. She was perfectly nice when she moved in 3 years ago. However, she started dating a guy this past January. They married in May and he's moved in. I don't know if marriage messed her up (since he seems nice every time I talk to her) but she's become very right-wing and very religious.

But my wife was coming home the other day. She parked in front of the house to unload groceries. Beyond our groceries, she also picked up a plastic cat skeleton to add to the yard. I wasn't there, so this is all her word, but I believe her 100%. Our neighbor screamed and grabbed the bag from my wife, then said it was demonic to use a dead cat in our witch ceremonies. My wife explained it was plastic and our neighbor said, and I quote "Satan doesn't care if it's plastic or flesh, it's the intent that matters. You're both turning this neighborhood into a den of goblins!".

Because my wife is amazing, she grabbed the cat back, then said she was going to summon a goblin to vomit all over my neighbor. That was the end of that confrontation.

Since then, there were religious pamphlets stuck in our door, placed in our mailbox, and taped to every single Halloween decoration every single day when we got home from work. When I confronted my neighbor she said it was free speech and we couldn't take that away. I told her that was fine, but if she trespassed in my yard and touched any of our decorations I would have to press charges. It stopped (except for the mailbox, which is fine, whatever) and my wife was happy with that.

My confession comes in now, because I wasn't happy with that. My wife is in a wedding this weekend and was gone most of Tuesday night to go over some last minute planning. I threw together bits and pieces from a few costumes to create my "Goblin King" - scaly lizard man gloves, a long flowing blood red cape, green LED eyes, and a rotten pumpkin mask complete with a voice changer. I covered everything with some random sewn together fabric, fake cobwens, and some random rope. It looked suitably weird.

Once it got dark, I walked across the street and turned on the fake eyes. I started dancing in her back yard and yelling out and singing in the fake voice. She sicced her dog on me. Unfortunately for her I pet her dog all the time and he recognized my scent, so instead of attacking, he just wanted me to pet him. I started dancing and told him to roll over, which he gladly did.

The sight of some kind of demon "mind controlling" her dog really freaked her out and she called the cops. I went back home.

20 minutes later the cops came by. They told me my neighbor had reported "a demonic entity" in the yard and wanted to know if I knew anything. They took a look at my yard, then the inside of my house. One of the cops told me that "It was funny but please don't do it again. She calls us enough". And that was that.

This is pretty much me bragging about doing that, because I can't tell my wife (she'll get angry I escalated things). But holy poo poo was that fun and rewarding. I want to wear the Goblin King costume for Halloween but I'm sure that's pushing my luck.

loquacius posted:

He explicitly mused about the irony of this in the confession

Not that I believe it either of course

loquacius posted:

asspen goon

loquacius posted:

stdh.txt

loquacius posted:

loquacius posted:

pen stuff

loquacius posted:

My confession comes in now,

Son of Rodney posted:

here's a non-anonymous confessions:

Once when I was a kid I was at a pool and peeing in a toilet. While peeing my hand slipped and the rubber band that held my trunks snapped back, pinching my dick to my body, which resulted in me peeing into my face for like 2 seconds.

loquacius posted:

He explicitly mused about the irony of this in the confession

Not that I believe it either of course

Jastiger posted:

Awaiting my tribute.