- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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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.
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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.
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Oct 7, 2016 00:57
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May 11, 2024 08:02
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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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.
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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.
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Oct 7, 2016 12:36
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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If I wrote any of these you could probably tell because I have a really hard time ending sentences
If there's one that has a paragraph that's one big long sentence full of parentheticals and dashes and semicolons you know that one's an inside job
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Oct 7, 2016 15:43
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I have a long term girlfriend who currently lives about an hour and a half away. She's planning to move in with me soon, but is waiting on a job that will allow her to do so. She's on the 2nd interview with a place, so we think it's close. Right now, we only spend weekends together. I don't want her to get this job because I love having my weekday nights free for myself.
I usually just lay around the house and play video games or watch TV, or use it as a chance to clean the house or do some yard work.
But every so often I go out a pick up hookers. Maybe once a week, sometimes twice. Around here, it's about 400 bucks to gently caress a prostitute, and maybe 120 for oral. I make good money for work, enough that 500-600 a week isn't breaking the bank. My girlfriend and I don't share a bank account so she has no idea.
Sometimes these hookers are men. My girlfriend thinks I'm straight and monogamous.
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Too much deep poo poo is being posted in this thread so have this, assholes.
I used to be a real loser up until the end of high school. I was extremely antisocial, had a terrible group of friends, hated myself, had no real relationships to speak of, and was only technically disqualified from being a virgin by what could be described as the world's saddest handjob. I had a weird bout of self reflection in the middle of my senior year where I took a critical look at myself and realized that I was nowhere near the person I wanted to be, so I severed all contact from my high school friends with a promise to do better after graduation, and spent college + a couple years after was mostly me repairing my own mental dysfunction by taking care of my self, being mroe outgoing, developing a good work ethic, etc. Now, from all outward appearances, I'm a normal person with good career prospects, a boyfriend, two dogs, and I just bought my first house.
The reason I'm telling you all this is that while I was being a loser in high school, I also turned into a massive furry and my latest furry convention was a couple months ago where I bought art of my fursona to proudly wear around. Oh I've also got a big vore fetish. So if you know anyone at work who acts like a normal guy who tells you that he was "weird" or "a loser" as a kid, just know he could still be incredibly hosed up and want to be turned into cum inside an enormous penis and balls. Be Safe.
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Oct 7, 2016 18:09
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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I like to think of the Trump goblin vine as Alex Jones summarizing his screenplay
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My girlfriend dumped me on March 18th. We had been dating for close to 2 years before that, and I did something really bad and really stupid and deserved to be dumped. I wanted to try and be on speaking terms, but she hasn't spoken to me since then, and I don't think she ever will again.
I have yet to tell anyone we broke up. She's not on facebook any more, so my profile still says I'm in a relationship. I sometimes post old pictures of us together, or post statuses like "Hanging out with Heather at the county fair! #blessed". I blocked all her friends and family after what happened, since I couldn't handle questions from them, so they don't know.
I still have a picture of us on my desk, I still talk about her at work like we live together, and worst of all is my family still assumes we date. It hasn't been an issue yet, but Thanksgiving is coming up. I suppose I could cover and say she's sick, or busy with work. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it I guess.
I have removed almost every trace of her from my house, though. After our breakup I had to take a few days off work to collect myself and I used that time to do some gardening and redo a lot of stuff in the house. Plus the whole place needed a good cleaning, and I felt a lot better after doing it. Like a ghost of the past had finally been laid to rest.
Sometimes I feel really terrible for what I did, and realize that I can probably never talk to Heather again, and that it's completely my fault I'm in this situation. That's why I like to pretend she's still with us.
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A few years ago I was out with a good friend and we were both pretty drunk. During the course of the evening he told me that he had recently ended an affair with a co-worker of his (my friend is married with a couple of kids).
Why is this my confession? Well I have a bad feeling I may have let a couple of mutual friends know this infromation while I was out drinking with them. He trusted me with his secret but I, potentially, broke his trust. The problem is I am not sure which of my friends I might have let this slip to. Also I can't work out how to find out without giving the secret away.
I am worried that it might come out later and get traced back to me.
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Oct 8, 2016 12:37
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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First guy, 
Second guy, there's a good chance that if you were drunk enough that you don't remember who you were talking to or what you said to them, they were also drunk enough that they either don't remember hearing it or who they heard it from or even who they heard it about. Also, even if they do have a crystal-clear memory of the incident, there's a good chance they'll have enough social awareness to keep their mouths shut. Also also, you don't actually know you said anything, and even if you did, there's nothing to be done about it now. I wouldn't spend too much time fretting over this; this sounds like one of those social-anxiety things that isn't objectively a rational thing to worry about.
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Oct 8, 2016 12:42
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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The "still with us" comment at the end did kind of suggest something there
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Oct 8, 2016 13:27
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I know the Medieval Latin lyrics to "One Winged Angel" (final boss fight soundtrack from Final Fantasy 7) by heart. Sometimes I sing it to myself.
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I'm just a few minutes older than my identical twin brother. Through high school and until we were about 30, no one could really tell us apart except for our closest friends and family. We dated different types of girls and ran in different cliques, so that was one way of telling. My brother was into the whole "guido" thing and wore Z Cavaricci pants with a turtle neck and of course a gold chain hanging out over the shirt. I was more of a gear head and wore Levi's and Dickies and looked like a gas station attendant.
It's the 80's. I'm just out of high school and my brother and I are going to the same university on the opposite coast from home. We became tighter at college than we did during high school. My brother had left a very despondent girlfriend back home, and she was exceptionally attractive, but one of those Drakkar sniffing coke sniffing dance club girls that I just couldn't stand to talk to. She's calling and writing my brother non-stop for 4 or 5 months and he's already met someone and changed his style to more of a grunge kid now. He's having some academic problems and had to stay behind for winter break to take classes. He's also too chickenshit to break up with his girlfriend from home.
I ran into his soon to be ex girlfriend while at the mall, she was calling out a name and since I constantly got mistaken for my brother and vice-versa, I've learned to ignore it. So she runs up and around me, to get into my face and I tell her I'm the other twin. It should have ended there, but it didn't. She came by New Years Eve with the "I don't have a date" thing. So I hung out with her, and I lost my virginity. I was very shy in high school, so almost the entire month of January I was balls deep in this incredibly good looking girl.
My brother wasn't aware of what was going on. I felt pretty bad about it so I called him and told him straight out the entire truth. To my surprise he wasn't upset at all. It was quite the opposite.
Things got pretty serious. I grew to love her. She was my date at homecoming the next year. My brother with his date and me with mine. And that should have been that. We go to my brothers girlfriends apartment and played drunken truth or dare, and that's where poo poo got weird. Her room mate, a very attractive Italian girl with big tits rounded out the 5 of us, and we were totally hosed up.
Everyone is taking truths. Then my brother takes a dare and he has to kiss me. The gently caress? So we do. Then after some coke and a little weed practically everyone is naked. We're making out with each other and not much further into the evening there's five of us loving each other on two twin beds pushed together and everything is great except when the girls wanted me and my brother to make out. I was not into it, but all of the girls had gone down on each other, so this rant starts and it's playful.
tl;dr my brother sucked my dick. And this got all over campus. Quickly. Actually, it led to more dates for me; but my brother who was always a little more effeminate than I, took it very hard. People called us fags in the dining halls. Another year, he dropped out of school and came out to the family as gay.
My brother sucked my dick and it made him gay and I'm bi. My wife is the woman I lost my virginity to and even now I let guys suck me off in front of her.
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Oct 9, 2016 15:02
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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One of those last two confessions really topped the other
I mean, medieval Latin? drat, I'm impressed.
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Oct 9, 2016 15:03
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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Medieval Latin is actually much less grammatically complicated than Classical Latin.
I should know, I took all of my twin brother's Latin exams for him.
My confession is that I actually knew this due to taking classical Latin in high school but couldn't think of another way to make that joke work
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Oct 11, 2016 00:31
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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Oh, and if someone recently sent in a confession that went off too early and wasn't finished yet, can you please send another email with your code phrase that says whether the version you sent in afterwards actually was finished, because the order the emails were received is a little wonky and I can't really tell
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Oct 11, 2016 00:37
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I was in middle school when Dragonball Z was a huge hit. I was a dorky middle schooler when the Androids and Cell Saga were on, and I rushed home every day to watch it. I started studying it, going online to research the Japanese version and all the episodes that hadn't hit the US yet, and became a pretty big name online on the Temple O' Trunks and DBZ: Uncensored message boards. Incredibly nerdy looking back but at the time, it was my life.
That's where the story would end for most people, it would be an embarrassing childhood moment. But I also discovered something else at that time - I really liked working out and getting stronger. I copied the DBZ method of training - I filled a bookbag with rocks, tied lead weights into my clothes, weight down my shoes with cement blocks, stuff like that. And then I'd try working out in that. And for a while it worked really well. I was doing a lot of high impact exercises and my skinny/flabby body was responding well. I was bulking up and in my mind, I was becoming one step closer to the characters I idolized on TV. I wasn't completely stupid, I knew I couldn't turn super saiya-jin or anything like that.
Until one morning I couldn't get out of bed.
My parents had to carry me to the car and took me to the ER. I had torn several vertebral arteries, which lead to multiple strokes. I was 15 years old.
I spent the next several weeks in the hospital recovering, and then nearly a year after that in physical therapy. My left arm is still noticeably smaller than my right one, and I'm skinny enough that I wear a women's small T-shirt, despite being a nearly 30 year old man.
and next up here is some SA fanfiction
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I'm a performance artist and an SA forums poster. Why do I put those in the same sentence?
In 2011 I had an idea - to create a kickstarter so ridiculous that not a single soul would fund it. I would then do everything possible to get funding and document those insane sales pitches, and that was intended to be the piece. So I came up with something - a hot dog stand in Alabama. I took almost 2 years to prep, working on my character mostly. I imaged him as a human version of Goofy - someone who didn't understand how things worked, and mostly lucked into any small successes in life, followed by defeat after defeat after defeat.
I was living in the South at that time, and a lot of the backward views bled into the character too.
I created the kickstarter and didn't get many views. I had visions of going viral, but they didn't happen. Until I posted it on SA. And then the kickstarter took off, and I was funded far beyond the goal I had set.
There were 2 options at this point; admit the ruse or continue the performance. I continued. I knew nothing about running a restaurant, and neither did my character. In 2014 I opened. My own laziness and ignorance was amplified 100x over into my characterization - I basically just heated up food from Costco, closed whenever I felt like it, and here's the shocking part - I made good money doing it.
I kept this up for almost 2 years - a lifetime as far as these things go. I was inspired by Nathan Fielder's "Dumb Starbucks", I kept going more and more absurd. People online kept laughing, people in Alabama kept coming and buying food.
I had to end it at some point, I felt like Wayne was taking over my mind and taking over my personality. When gay marriage became legal I was overjoyed, except for the Wayne personality, who of course hated it. So I created a 2nd fake business to explain why I'd suddenly lose all my excess cash, then claimed a local funeral swooped in on me. Without any savings in the bank, I was plum out of luck, as Wayne would say.
In reality I put the building up for sale and moved away. I said I was making good money, and I was. The room I rented down there cost only 120 dollars a month. I was putting away almost 2000 dollars a month, even after keeping the restaurant running, paying my bills, and paying "tasha", who was just my sister.
So I donated all that saved up money, almost 50k, to Reform AL's school district. I know some goons lost money, one guy skipped Christmas, and I can never be forgiven for that.
Doobie: the Untold Story
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Oct 11, 2016 14:00
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I'm seen by loads of people as upstanding and good, but in reality I just have a knack for lying, confusing people/setting them against each other and not getting caught very easily. About 6 years ago I started on weights and swimming regularly, and after about 2 years of it or so started to feel good and carry myself well and hence look good, and started cheating on my wife. Sites like Fetlife and the confidence to talk to people have seen me through 20+ secret partners now, most just once or twice but some longer term. No-one I know would have a clue. With having some confidence again the sex with my wife has never been better, but I can't stop- so many perversions, so many people.
I'm not going to claim any hacking skills whatsoever, but whenever I get guaranteed unrestricted access for 2 minutes to someones computer, I stick a bit of spy software on it from a usb stick. It's wonderful. I get to see everyone's perversions, logged and noted. Very few people have vanilla tastes these days it seems. And of course, their login details and lots of other tasty treats. When I found someone I drank with was into child porn (and lots cocaine and a lot prostitutes) I anonymously blackmailed him by making him give me the funds he was taking out of his business for the benefit of colombia and large black women in the sex industry for a week or two the tune of about 3K. Then I sent his wife all the evidence she needed anyway.
The information I gotten has been gold- people I would never suspect of having affairs, or big/small bank accounts, or of conspiring to take down a friends business. Right now there are 9 machines, at one point it was near 30. Some were reapplied a few times, but most people are security lazy. It's a really dangerous addiction and I try not to, but sometimes I'm up all night looking over the shoulders of multiple peoples lives. I have used it to get information on businesses I wanted contracts with, I have used it to get a better job, more than once I have manipulated my larger circle of friends to eliminate people I didn't like, and to shitstir and gaslight others.
End of may, my ex girlfriend started cheating on her husband. I have followed it all. They organise everything by anonymous email so there's no call logs or sms messages, but I have all the details I need. Her husband stands to inherit a shitload of cash (and likes lots of leather bear on bear action and gay cruising sites which is why she may be cheating) and the guy she's cheating with is married and loaded and I'm getting really tempted to blackmail them all. So tempted I rented a car a few days ago, sat down the street and got snaps of her saying goodbye to the new guy in her dressing gown. A few of them came out really, really nicely- gallery quality stuff, especially the lingering kiss.
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I have a friend who became homeless after he was fired from Amazon. For 3 years, I let him crash at my house, rent free. Now, I've got a big house and needed a lot of maintenance done on it, and although he wasn't very good at anything but being a worker drone, he could mow the yard, paint rooms, carry shingles up to the roof while I did all the technical poo poo.
After the second year I figure I'm going to have to let him go do his thing. That was an insane amount of time I spent trying to fix this dude. Drove him to DMV, to jobs I knew would take him. To AA meetings he'd blow off. Then he'd start doing stupid poo poo. He was diabetic and I had an ambulance crew here 5 times to give him glucose because he refused to manage his diabetes. One time he went into one of his comas while the shower was running and I don't even want to get into that. He was getting EBT benefits, Medicaid, the works. It really made me angry at him because he was able bodied and could work and refused to even find a job. The room he stayed in was just a place to put beer cans and dirty laundry because he'd pass out anywhere he wanted if I wasn't home. This infuriated me.
I drive a truck long haul. Having him at the house insured my dog got looked after and the place didn't get robbed. Until I came home and found my dog at the bottom of the stairs in the basement, chained up in the dark for who knows how long. She was ok, just dehydrated. It was time for this guy to go. So I threw him out. Christ, another thing. This guy was loving IRRITATING and always interrupted you and then talk for the next two hours. If you tried to get a word in edgewise he'd yell! It was insane the stones this dude had. Homeless and chesty as hell. Just a total know-it-all rear end in a top hat. Especially when drunk.
He didn't go far. My neighbor across the street took him in. He totally used that lady. She was old and deaf and he just scammed the poo poo out of her. And then he'd come by and try to be chummy with me. Just walk over drunk and say "hey pal let's hang out and drink some brewskis" and I wasn't having any of it.
My neighbor broke her hip and ended up in the hospital for a few months recovering. She hadn't heard from her "boarder" as he didn't bother to visit her. When I went to the rehab hospice she asked me to go see if he was ok and take a look around the house. I go to use the key but the door won't budge. He'd thrown the bolt and I could not gain entry. I knocked on windows, called, tried everything. She's got bars on the windows, and pretty heavy steel doors. I wasn't breaking in.
I saw him on the floor when I climbed up on the garage roof. He looked to be out of it. I climbed back down, got a rock and went to go back up and break a window, or call 911. Either would have worked, in hindsight. Instead, I crossed the street and played with my dog in the yard for a while.
Well. That ate me up. Then I decided that I couldn't do this, that I had to get in that house and get him help. I go back over, climb that spiky rear end holly tree and get up on the roof again and he's not where I last saw him. He's nowhere to be seen. I knock, call, no answer. I figure he's moved, maybe he was just drunk passed out. So I put it out of my mind.
I come home a week later and my other neighbor tells me "her daughter found your friend dead inside the house." He died from slipping into a low sugar coma. I guess I feel guilty because looking back on it, with the actions and inactions, I subconsciously wanted him to die. So I did. But I don't miss him at all.
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Oct 12, 2016 00:21
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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I think "dressing gown" is British English. It came up a lot in the Hitchhiker's Guide series anyway
Anyway
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I was really interested in magic as a kid - stage magic, not like Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings magic. I watched it on TV and read every book I could on how to perform the tricks. I was never really any good - I was too awkward a kid to expertly pull off sleight of hand, and not smart enough or handy enough to build some of the more elaborate tricks.
But I did come up with one trick. It was a variation on a simple stacking cups trick - there are 3 plastic cups and a rubber ball. You do some tricks where it looks like the ball moves around from cup to cup. The trick is you also have a foam ball that can be squished and placed between the cups so nobody notices it. Simple stuff. I wanted to make a bigger, better version. I used a basketball, a foam basketball that I made sure matched the real one almost exactly, and 3 garbage cans. I showed it off during my sister's birthday party, and it went fine. The big makes it seem like the basketball passes through the cans, via the trick of putting the foam ball between 2 cans and squishing it down. It worked perfectly.
I dragged the cans back down to the garage and separated them to grab the foam ball. The ball was gone. I have no Earthly explanation for where that ball went and I spent days looking for it everywhere, thinking it somehow slipped out.
I realize this is a stupid confession but it still freaks me out a bit when I think about it.
yer a wizard arry
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I was a major latchkey kid growing up - no siblings and my parents both worked odd shifts for their jobs. I'd usually come home to an empty house, or wake up on my own and go to school, and sometimes I'd go to bed on my own and spend most of the night alone in the house. It was just how it was.
I went to go see "Blair Witch" with my friends, expecting a nice night at the movies with a horror movie. Here's a spoiler warning - at the end of the movie, there's a scene where they end up in the attic of a house and a bright white light shines in on them, then this long limbed monster, presumably the witch, attacks them.
I had a panic attack when the white lights started, something that has never ever happened to me. I made it through the movie but as we were leaving, I passed out in the lobby and my friends took me to the ER. I got a clean bill of health, but was bothered by the fact that the scene freaked me out so much - I'm usually not bothered by horror movies. Then I figured it out - that attic looked a LOT like my family's attic. I started thinking that something like that scene may have happened to me.
I drove home the following day to ask my parents if there was ever a helicopter that landed near the house to explain the lights and to take a look at the attic. They couldn't remember anything but again, latchkey kid home alone a lot. So I went up in the attic and started looking around. I had bits of a memory, but I wasn't sure what was childhood imagination or the movie bleeding into my thoughts, and what was reality. But the memory I did have was really disturbing, so I hoped it wasn't true.
I was having trouble sleeping at night now, thinking about what *might* have happened to me, so I made an appointment with a psychiatrist. I had never been to one, and expected that she'd hypnotize me or something to dig into my memories. That's apparently fiction for TV, but she did lead me through some calming exercises to help remember what really happened. And holy poo poo. I am going to write down the confirmed facts, then in brackets put my unconfirmed memories, if that makes sense.
On the day in question, I get home from school to an empty house. I do my homework, watch TV, and get ready for bed. [I'm brushing my teeth and hear a raccoon has gotten into the attic, so I head up there to shoo it out the window]. I open the panel leading to the attic and leave it open, then climb up there. [I hunt for the raccoon and don't have any luck finding it. While I'm up there, I hear what I assume is a low flying plane. The house shakes a little bit, like it does when this happens.] Several things fall off shelves or the wall, including a family portrait and my dad's favorite mug. [The attic is now suddenly full of white light and I hear movement behind me. I don't even have time to turn around.] My dad gets home after 2 am, and I'm asleep on the couch covered in mud. The attic panel is still open and things are on the floor from before.
For obvious reasons I haven't told a single person this story beyond my parents and my psychiatrist.
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Oct 12, 2016 15:09
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I'm gay and lived in post-Revolutionary Iran for several years as an adult. I denied my sexuality and even married my best friends cousin. She is a wonderful woman and she deserves love and a good life, which in my own way, I have tried to provide. My wife and I then had very awkward sex for a decade resulting in three children, whom I love most dearly.
My confession is that I was horrible to my fellow gays. I think it was to distract myself from the knowledge that I could be taken from my home, imprisoned, whipped or even hanged to death. Before I left Iran, I must have seen a dozen people hanging from construction equipment. The would place a cable around their neck and hoist them up in the most inhumane way possible. Then people would throw rocks and shoes at the dead as they left them for the entire city to shame after death.
Most unforgivably, what I confess to, was my lover Pejman, who being an Iranian Jew and homosexual, was a secret friend. I was visited at my home by members of the Moral Council for my city who had photographed us together having tea and also a photograph of him in my car. We were driving out to the mountains to stay in his father's retreat. I was asked if I knew he was a homosexual. I denied knowing this. The next morning I was taken by force by police to be interviews about Pejman, who they had arrested two days prior. I was given promised immunity in exchange for testimony that included a falsehood that Pejman had forced himself, in a homosexual manner, upon me but that no rape had occurred. I gave this lie to the court with a calmness that made me very angry. I was a liar and worse. I have sold out the one person who would never do the same to me. There IS NO QUESTION OF THIS! He was courageous and kind.
He was whipped horribly in public. Everyone expected me to watch, and I was there to see it. I fought back tears for him as they mutilated him. They had to bring extra men to protect Pejman as he was led off to hospice. Pejman was forced to pay a very heavy fine. After I left Iran, Pejman was jailed again and agreed to have sexual reassignment surgery. I never saw him again. I received no response to the letters I wrote to him. I am sure that he hated me. There can be no doubt.
He committed suicide two days shy of his 30th birthday.
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My brother and I were supposed to go to a Monday night football game a while ago. He talked me into buying the tickets in stub hub (mistake in hindsight) and I assumed he would pay me back for his ticket. To get that Monday off, I had to use a day I was planning to use for a two week vacation (forcing me to come back to work for Friday and essentially cutting out 3 days from our vacation. My wife was passed. He lives far away and was planning on driving down to meet for the game. In the month leading up to going I don't hear from him, and get a little worried. I come to find out he had gotten laid off from his job, and was worried he would get re hired too soon to justify taking that Monday off.
Turns out that's what happened. He got re hired the week prior and couldn't go, but it was only after I pressed him about this that he fessed up. So I had less than a week to unload the tickets. Worse, the value of the tickets tanked and long story short I lost $200 even after reselling them. And my brother saw no obligation to reimburse me even though one of the tickets was supposed to be his. So he hosed me out of $100 and my wife is mad that our vacation got cut short for nothing. I explained that we were in on it together and he was responsible for one ticket, that he should eat half the loss especially since it was his fault we couldn't go.
I haven't talked to him since, and in that time things haven't gone well for him. He got in a huge argument with our dad, and plead with me to comisserate him. None of our family went to his kid's birthday party, which really upset him, and he blew out a disc in his back and won't be able to work for some time. I would be more sympathetic, but if the rear end in a top hat couldn't sack up and pay for his goddamm ticket, apologize for screwing over my vacation and at least explain if he couldn't afford to pay me at the moment (I wasn't expecting him to pay me immediately if he was broke, but did expect the money eventually).
Maybe if he wasn't such a douchebag bad things wouldn't have happened to him.
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Oct 13, 2016 13:50
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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The Iranian government decided that since sex changes weren't around in the seventh century and so there's nothing against them in the Qur'an, it's less offensive to them to allow heterosexual marriages where one person is trans than to allow homosexual relationships. It is way easier to be trans than to be gay in Iran, and since the government doesn't really see a distinction between the two ideas, gay men are frequently pressured to undergo sex changes.
And yeah I've been screwed out of more than $100 by a family member's incompetence
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Oct 13, 2016 14:53
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I love my wife more than words could express, but sometimes her POTS creates real problems for us. Having just gone through Hurricane Matthew (my umpteenth hurricane, her first) and evacuated, she's been extremely stressed and unwell due to the physical aspect of corralling 3 children in a middle school cafetorium; she was stuck in bed for 6 days, unable to really get up even to use the bathroom or eat. She's been in an immense amount of pain from driving for several hours as well; she already has back problems from a car accident years ago, and this just made it worse.
I've missed 4 days of work due to this loving storm: 2 because my job was closed, 2 because she flat-out couldn't get out of bed to take care of the kids while I was at work. Now we're going to miss a bunch of bills this month; we already live paycheck-to-paycheck as it is. We already owe her mother a ton of money that she lent us, I don't want to borrow more.
I love her and I wouldn't ever leave her, and I don't resent her or hate her for having dysautonomia but sometimes, I hate the situation. It causes problems. This isn't the first time I've missed work, nor will it be the last.
(the bbcode was right in the email, good attention to detail there)
This person sent one email that said "oops, I sent the confession too early, don't post it" (without having sent anything beforehand), then sent another email containing this confession, and I was confused by this order of events so I asked in-thread whether it was ok to post and haven't heard back yet, and it LOOKS finished, so I'm guessing this was the final version and whatever unfinished version that got sent before never actually made its way into the inbox. At any rate I'm posting it.
quote:
I've got the usual stuff going on. Blah blah blah childhood abuse. Etcetera. My story is a dime a dozen. We get therapy, we work through it, and tell ourselves that the rest of humanity are worth sticking it out for.
I'm pretty good at managing all of the requisite goon sadbrains. Thing is, as I age, I'm developing this all-consuming hate for people. My therapist is well aware. We're taking steps to manage it. It's tricky because the more I try to not feel it, the more it escalates. I'm honestly terrified of what sort of person I'm going to be in ten or fifteen years.
It's hard to describe how it feels. If you've ever stumbled on, say, the maggot-riddled corpse of a decaying wild animal, the revulsion and disgust you feel in that moment is somewhat close to my reaction to being around other people, especially large numbers of people. I'm not trying to be edgy. It's horrible. It's like being filled with acid and fire all the time. On the worst days, it's like...someone comes within five feet of me, my first reflex is to wish absurd acts of violence on them. It used to just be in my head, but now I find myself shoving by strangers as I pass them, just to indicate how much I loving loathe that they exist and take up space in the universe. I do really bitchy, passive-aggressive stuff too, like making sure the lift door closes before someone else can get on. Again, not proud of this.
It's odd to watch myself do these things. I'm not really sure how it happened. The people I can tolerate well enough to call friends seem to use nice words to describe me. poo poo like kindness and compassion. And while I've had many ugly experiences in my life, I've also been the recipient of generosity and more love than I know what to do with. Sometimes I despise that, too, because I know no one would want to spend time with me if they could detect the pure violence inside my brain.
Hilariously, even when I'm actively confrontational with people, there aren't any consequences. People take it in such graceful stride that I start to doubt we're having the same conversation. That only makes me want to escalate things even more, though currently I'm able to stop myself from doing that.
It's not like I'm exempt from my own hate. I am not better than anyone. I'm as repulsive as the next person. Sometimes I see other people like me out in public. You can tell who we are because of how we look like we actively want someone to gently caress with us.
I'm at the point where I want to break. I want to lash out, to ruin, to choke. Just to get it over with so I can stop feeling it inside of me. I've never injured anyone, never committed a crime unless you count jaywalking. I don't plan on doing so. But I don't know who I'm going to be in a few years if I stay on this trajectory, and that's why I'm scared.
I'm not really sure what I expect from this. I guess people will probably be like "kill u r self lol", and maybe that's what I'm looking for. Proof that I'm the bottom of the barrel. Or maybe I want someone to empathize. I'm not sure, but thanks for listening, goons. I'd like to be better than this someday.
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Oct 13, 2016 21:12
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I just ate 2 Kg of butter and corn so I can see how cool my poops get.
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I lived within very short walking distance (I could probably throw a rock and hit it) there was a small church and the front of it was the bus stop, I live in arizona so the whole area between the church and my house was cacti and other desert trees
When I was walking home from middle school one day an abandoned mobile home appeared pretty much out of nowhere, and a friend of mine (was a huge troublemaker, but so was I at the time) decided to inspect it and break in
The mobile home was suspended by something so it was kinda high up and we "broke in" though a literal hole in the floor that was big enough that I could jump on inside and let my friend in through the door
It was clear from the inside that nobody lived there anymore and the place was in loving tatters, imagine a very trashy 2 bed room trailer home stripped of pretty much everything, with tons of various "trash" everywhere
Upon looking through the "trash" at the time I didn't know about drug use or what I was even looking at really, and it didn't hit me until a few years later that this was a heroin addict's home and there was a few syringes, some spoons, a couple radio antennas that were black and charred at the end, one of those rubber things to tie your arms off with and some papers with writing on them
The papers were letters (and I guess they never ended up being sent, also I don't remember exactly what they said but I do remember some of it) writing to his kid and mother of the kid about him being a lovely dope (I thought this meant weed at the time) addict and how he wanted to save up and buy him a bike and DVD player as well as him promising to get clean.
There were other letters but I don't remember what they said but all of this kind of flew over my head at 12/13 and didn't realize until many years later what was even going on in that place and that I seriously could have gotten hiv/hepatitis and am also confused as to why that mobile home was next to the church and what it's purpose even was
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Oct 14, 2016 13:28
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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need some insight from the goon hivemind on this one:
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I wish my goon boyfriend would cheat on me so I would have a legitimate reason to break up with him. I am afraid of what will happen to me if I leave him. His anger is escalating, and becoming frightening.
My friend told me that there's the chance I will be stalked, but yet he is a lazy goon. Isn't stalking too much effort?
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My wife and I tell everyone that we met online. That's sort of true, but it's not the full story. We met on a forum and were friends, and when she needed a place to stay, I offered to let her stay with me. The night she arrived I picked her up, brought her home, got her drunk and raped her. At the time I didn't think it was rape. It certainly wasn't my plan to rape her, but I was drunk too, and I made a move on her, and she was pretty incapacitated by alcohol and drugs. So she just laid back and let me do it. The next morning she asked me if I wanted to be her boyfriend and I said I did. Then we hosed again.
We've been together for a decade and she loves me, but she never lets me forget that our first time was a date rape. We've never told anyone and never plan to. We are going to lie to our kid about it when he's old enough to want to know how we met. I have never had sex that was less than 100% consensual with anyone else and never intend to.
e: they're piling up a bit so here's a third
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I've put gay porn wwe fanfiction on my kindle to read on the go
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Oct 15, 2016 02:35
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I inherited a significant sum of money from my parents following a fatal accident. If the subject ever comes up I tell people that while I'm not glad they're dead, they were mentally ill and very unhappy and my upbringing was abusive.
This is a lie. I had a very comfortable and privileged childhood and my parents were good people. But the truth is the reason I don't exhibit any sadness or grief about my situation is that I don't really miss them and I am far happier now than I have ever been.
The money I received has allowed me to live completely independently and it is amazing. I don't need a job and have no obligations to anyone. I don't have to bow down to a boss, stick to a deadline or even particularly worry about what day of the week it is. I always found family events boring, but since I moved far away from my home town and cut off contact with extended family I have never had to feign interest in dull occasions.
I'm not lonely, I have some good friends and personal relationships (though those get ended when things become even slightly serious. I don't want to meet their family or attend events or move in together, and unless someone is cool with that, and they almost never are which is understandable, I just put a stop to it.)
I thought for a while there was something seriously wrong with me, like maybe I was a psychopath. But I got therapy (had to switch therapists though because the first one I told the truth to expressed disgust, which I found unprofessional even if it was a refreshingly honest response) and they don't think I'm at risk of turning into a deranged murderer. I realise I am massively selfish but I'm cool with that, I don't go around kicking puppies and I help out the people I care about when I can. I'm just much happier being alone 90% of the time and have very little gently caress to allocate to anything that lies outside my interests.
If I was given the option to change the past and save my parents lives I probably wouldn't because I love my life now.
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This might come across as a bit of a ramble. I'm very confused about who I really am.
From a young age I have been very obsessed with transformation and the idea of becoming something else. I think it all started with those old dnd comics, it had some witch who got split into a good half and bad half and when they mixed back together, I remember getting a bit of a tingly feeling. Then you had extreme ghostbusters with Janine who turned into a bug and loving totally spies with everything.
This then translated into me stumbling across some weird tf poo poo on the internet. It has built up and up and up since then. I frequent all such wierd DA pages and blogs. It freaks me out what people would think if they saw the stuff that I just consider normal now.
Anyway, when I started getting into people switching genders, I wonder if this has affected me somehow? Recently I have been unhappy with myself. I look in the mirror and I'm not a handsome guy but not unhandsome either. Sometimes I like myself but more recently I think I don't think I'll ever be happy with this face forever. I make female characters in games and this helps me a little but I doesn't solve the problem. I've had a few dreams where I was a woman and I don't I have ever woken up in such a disappointed state.
As an aside, I think I am probably a bit gay. But then who isn't? I like the idea of going on a date with a guy but then women just have much better bodies.
Just curious to see what people think. Have the years of weird porn screwed up my brain a little or has there always been this inclination and being exposed to people living this way just opened my eyes to who I am or could be?
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Oct 16, 2016 03:15
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
With the election, my coworkers have been making GBS threads on "illegals" on an almost daily basis, and in general have always done things like ask me where they can go in town to get away from the Mexicans.
I have a white last name, I look white. My mom is Mexican and my grandmother is here illegally. She came here to visit, it became obvious she is not capable of living by herself, and now she's here and dying. We have no one still in Mexico to take care of her. She's not stealing any social security numbers or gaming the system, we're paying cash for her medical treatment. We don't know what we're going to do when she dies.
I just let the people I deal with every day degrade the people I love because I'm so worried I can't even think about it.
Man I'm glad I live in a blue state, the worst I have to deal with is everyone in my news feed making vaguely menacing posts every day just in case anyone they know was thinking of not voting Clinton
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So here's what I'm dealing with. For a long time now, I've been fantasizing about heroic people getting brutally murdered.
I'm not really sure where it came from, but one day all of a sudden I found the idea of a heroic person getting utterly destroyed completely fascinating. Usually it just takes up time in my head, but every so often the urge gets too great and I have to look this stuff up on YouTube.
I guess there's a healthy subculture of something called ryona online, and that's what I usually look up. For those who don't know, ryona is watching a woman get hosed up and killed. A lot of these videos are from the newer mortal kombat and horror games, and this usually does it for me, but honestly I'll watch anything with guys too. I'm not picky, I'll get on and watch a string of dead space death scenes as much as Cassie Cage getting murdered, but the ones with chicks in it linger more on the gore and pain, which is what I want.
I really liked the Arkham games aside from this, but I liked what the death scenes alluded to also. Sometimes I'll just daydream about Batman getting slowly, messily eaten by Killer Croc, or Penguin watching as his henchman slice his mask off with most of his face. Afterwards I imagine them keeping him alive but slicing his arms and feet off so he's just a show piece, screaming in agony as the villains laugh.
It's not a sex thing, I don't get hard from this. I also abhor violence in real life. I don't faint when I look at blood or anything, but real life torture and death sicken me and I honestly don't get the same high from it. The idea of torturing and murdering someone likewise disgusts me. I don't think I could ever hurt someone without feeling a huge amount of guilt, even if they deserved it.
I think the draw is because I like to see people who go into dangerous situations secure in their strength get exactly what's coming to them. Like, you roll in by yourself against like fifteen dudes bigger than you and expect to win? You're going to get worse than killed, and I like thinking about it.
I don't know what the gently caress, maybe in a past life I was a supervillain or some poo poo.
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Oct 17, 2016 01:43
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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I definitely remember thinking it was bullshit when Batman could just breeze through an army of heavily-armed ninjas without ever taking a single hit, and liking it better when he could take a punch to the jaw once or twice and then win anyway because he's the goddamn Batman, but yeah this is something else again
All I could think while reading that was "I dunno how honest this guy is being with himself about it not being a fetish"
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Oct 17, 2016 16:16
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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The guy whose wife had POTS replied to a post
quote:
I've only known one person with POTS and she just drinks gatorade or puts on compression socks to get over it. I'm assuming she has an extremely mild version of it right?
Not as mild as it could be. Even worse in the heat since she's used to Maryland and we moved to Florida. She stays hydrated, but some days it flat-out doesn't help. She went grocery shopping last night, was gone for an hour, and came back dripping sweat, clammy, and pale. She sat right down on the couch and cried for 15 minutes because she wishes she was normal.
...sometimes I do too...
It's only gotten worse through her 3 pregnancies and never really recovered after our daughter. Then to boot, she got SPD during that pregnancy as well. She was bedridden by doctor's orders and I had to miss a ton of work and we lived off our tax return until the baby was born. Then she got postpartum depression and is still on Zoloft for it almost 18 months later, along with a medication for the side effects of THAT, and BC and BP meds. 
I love her so much...I would take it all from her if I could. If I could just let her have normalcy...take her disorders upon myself, I would.
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I met a guy through online dating and it seemed to be going pretty well. He has a decent job (something IT related) and a very nice apartment in the middle of the city.
After a while of being involved we'd eschewed the normal date ideas for staying in at his place, watching a movie and ordering takeout food – in this case Indian food. We were chatting during the movie and were having a dumb flirty quarrel and he threw a piece of his naan bread at me in an 'Oh shut up!' kinda way, so I threw it back at him, in what felt like a playful, splashing water at each other fashion.
Then he throws a handful of cooked rice and I throw more bread back at him – we're both more than a little drunk and high at this point, until it devolves into a US movie food fight type affair. I tried to stop it, in a 'don't make such a mess' way, but it doesn't help, and we and the couches and seating area end up covered in food and drink. I'm a bit pissed off about the curry stains on my shirt, but it's not that bad. We end up having giggly stoned sex and I wash the bits of rice out of my hair in the shower afterwards.
The next morning I offer to stay to help him clean up or come back to help, since I need to go early, but he refuses saying he's got it sorted as well as giving me cash to get my shirt drycleaned and lending me a hoody to wear home.
The next time I'm back there everything is immaculate – he's either done a great job cleaning up or has hired some cleaners to clean the couch and walls etc. However, it's only a couple of weeks later he tries the same thing again – this time while we're eating spaghetti. I can get silly when tipsy, but I told him to stop, (I thought it was just a 'go have a shower' ploy) but then he confesses that he's got a major fetish for women having food dumped on them, or women dumping food on him. He said it's from seeing celebrities doing charity bath of beans type stunts when he was kid. Kinda weird, but I like to think of myself as GGG, so why not?
I've indulged him a couple more times since then – normally when we've been drunk or high. It doesn't seem to be a big sex play thing – we've not been screwing on a mound of pasta, but throwing a bowl of (cooled) soup down his shirt just makes him from zero to horny in a second. It's always very messy, but he pays for stuff to be cleaned up and to replace damaged clothes (and a pair of shoes) though I do feel like some kind of splatter-whore.
This stuff does nothing for me btw. If anything I'm a bit anxious about the cost of cleaning everything and the waste of food – but I grew up poor (certainly compared to him) and taught to be thrifty. I'm a little concerned that this fetish is just going to get more and more extreme – he's hinted at stuff like a bathtub full of beans.
I know i've got to think about whether this is a dealbreaker for me – he's a nice nerdy, goonish guy otherwise (though not actually a Goon I hope) and he's away working until the end of the month. He was saying how this is a really common thing (especially in IT circles!?), but isn't that what everyone with a fetish thinks?
I was at first confused by the phrase "US movie food fight type affair" but the rest of it kind of overshadowed that
And yeah uh I'm in tech and nobody talks about their fetishes at work or anything but I can't think of a good reason for this to be a common one
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Oct 18, 2016 12:35
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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My best guess about the IT thing is that everyone who posts on his food-fight-fetish message board or IRC channel mysteriously just happens to be in IT and they all interpreted the correlation backward
IT workers aren't likely to have this fetish, but people who talk about their fetishes on the Internet are likely to be IT workers
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Oct 18, 2016 13:26
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I'm a giant creeper. My boyfriend of 3 years broke up with me very late last year (what a wonderful xmas/birthday present!) because I kept 'insulting him' by arguing about gun laws (he's a gun nut, and while I enjoy shooting, I don't have a penis to need to compensate for). I still don't know exactly what I did wrong, and why people love to attach their identities to concepts like that. Hell, I've always been unable to understand other people in general! I get the sense Ive always been isolated from the rest of the world. I mostly stay off by myself, which can get rather lonely, obviously. The thing is, I still miss my boyfriend terribly even 10+ months later. I'm still very much in love with him and there are times when I get lost in fantasies about loving him (given his giant dick) or just cuddling up watching TV or something. I made a fake profile a couple months back, and used to befriend him on facebook. We quickly started talking again going as far as sexting a few times(I used amateur pics off the internet). Talking with him curesd my depression and loneliness, and I'm the happiest I've been in almost a year, but I do feel guilty over catfishing him. I don't want to go back to the dark place, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it up as he's insistent on wanting more pics from me, and I can't just send random ones to him. He likes to keep collections of women he talks to, so he's quickly catch on if I send him a different pussy. Hell, I should stay away from him emotionally since he is a serial philanderer (hell I was an affair) but my feelings for him are not exactly something I can just turn off.
Jessie, in the very very very rare chance you are reading this, I'm sorry hon. I still love you, please forgive me for everything 
I'm getting some mixed messages w/r/t your ex's dick in this confession, AFAICT he gets really into guns because he wants to compensate for his giant Pringle-can dick
At any rate you know I'm going to tell you to just hit him up IRL, as yourself, instead of in an anonymous confession he won't read or through a fake profile, so do it.
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I've lost all my passions in life. I'm approaching 25, a virgin goon and I'm in an ok place so far aside from that, but something weird is happening to me mentally.... I don't like anything I used to like, I don't feel strongly about anything at all.
Video games don't interest me anymore, drinking does nothing for me, books, webcomics, every piece of media or entertainment I used to consume just doesn't fulfill me anymore. I mean currently I'm in a slump in terms of entertainment, its not like there's any major releases happening at the moment. But it feels like even if there was I'd be indifferent. I'm just... bored with everything.
Yeah that's p straightforward depression.
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Oct 18, 2016 23:12
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
The Trump thread in C-SPAM is constantly talking about the Donald Trump "n-word tape".
It's supposedly a tape of Trump being racist; I don't know if that exists or not (probably) but they are focusing on the wrong "n-word".
When it comes to Trump tapes, the real controversial n-word one isn't "friend of the family", it's "nine-eleven".
There exists a tape of Donald Trump explaining that he's thrilled about 9/11, due to the effect it will have on NYC real estate prices.
"It's great, just great. I'm glad [about it] since I'm going to make a lot of money."
I've only seen a snippet, but apparently it gets even worse. I've heard certain groups have a copy, but I don't know if it will ever get released. Keep a look out, though.
thank you for breaking this story to the GBS anonymous confessions thread
I dunno, the October surprise Trump has already had might have been enough, but I'm eagerly awaiting this one if it's real 
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I am one of three people who curated the twitter account @WhiteGenocideTM, before we got suspended. We do lots of other works as well, because of all the stuff you throw against the wall, only a little bit sticks. But we've caused a lot of chaos directly and indirectly by pushing ideas into people's heads and onto their feeds with stupid poo poo like memes and tweets.
There are people out here, like me, who take pride in the fact that we conned Donald Trump into reposting racist tweets. We also push very hard on the alt-right and on freepers to radicalize them more. A concerted effort is underway to use the wide-open lane of internet politics to gently caress with the official discourse of this country in an attempt to cause it to collapse. We love to hear people make fun of "the meme war", because the lower people rate this form of influence, the less attention we get, and the more we're able to gently caress up everything. Your loving politics is too porous, Americans, and it is in our best interest for you to think it's not.
I am very impressed with this thing I've never heard of
And a bonus short third one:
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I really enjoy the smell of my own nutsack. It`s got a weird sweet nutty smell that makes me go"mhh yeah thats nice". Sometimes i`ll stick a finger down in my groin area and sniff if afterwards. My ballsweat...it smells good.
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Oct 19, 2016 13:51
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
Can you be a hikikomori with a job? Because that's what I am. I live on my own and make enough money to live "comfortably" but since my job is remote I can spend days and even weeks without going out my apartment. I don't have many hobbies, lately I have been very into a series and participating in its fandom is fun but even there it feels awkward to interact with other fans. I just reblog stuff and maybe post once in a while (this is normal for me, I was heavily into a series of books when I was younger but I never, never, interacted with another fan, even though I consumed fan material like crazy. I probably read hundreds of fanfics those years).
I'm single and I'm not particularly interested in changing that. About the only thing I'd change about my life is my diet since I'm a bit overweight (not obese, maybe 20 lbs) but other than that I'm okay? resigned? I don't know.
Thanks to my job I don't depend on anybody so my life is not hurting my family but I don't know, maybe I'll feel sorry about wasting these years doing nothing outside being a nerd?
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My girlfriend and I went on a double date this weekend and her friend's boyfriend made a pass at me.
We were at a Tiki bar and he wanted to go show me around the place. I didn't know him that well but he seemed very cool. He was Colombian and had some issues speaking English, but he was very warm and friendly and I got along with him well.
But as he's showing me around this bar he pushes me into a dark corner (basically a makeout spot) and grabs my buttocks firmly. He then says that he would make love to me, if I wanted to, and that he could make his girlfriend do the same. I politely refused and that was that.
I will never tell my girlfriend about this.
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Oct 19, 2016 23:09
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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quote:
I hate minorities for totally justified reasons. I have been passed over for jobs due to affirmative action, been unable to get dates due to being a "white boy", and have seen my tax dollars go to welfare queens who were 100% of the time either black, Mexican, or Italian. I have also seen countries go down in flames once the Muslims took hold. Just look at Canada. And look at cities like Detroit - you can't tell me that the blacks didn't have a hand in the downfall of that city. They are content to live in rubble, to have gangwars between each other, and to eat nothing but fast food and drink liquor. Obama winning was the worst thing ever because it just normalized this behavior.
I've had these views for a while, ever since college I think. I have devoted myself to making sure the truth is known by others, and to make sure to keep my cultural identity strong.
In this election year I have been called a racist, a deplorable, and a whole host of other disgusting things. I am not any of these things, I am just a man who sees things and calls them like they are. These generalizations that all Trump supporters are inbred idiots are hateful, untrue, and have caused many arguments between myself and others. But whatever, none of it matters when Mr. Trump wins and builds a wall to keep all the real, illegal, deplorables out.
But God Forbid you mention this around people, lest ye be labelled a closet KKK member or something.
did any of this make sense to anyone else because my eyebrow went up when he called Italians "minorities" and I stopped trying to make sense of it around the Canada part.
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For all the discussion of sexual assault and unwanted advances, almost nothing has been said about Donald Trump and prostitution. It is an open secret that he has been with prostitutes, probably up until he announced his run for President. My wife’s older sister was an escort who was a swimsuit model but since that didn’t pay the bills, she worked at an escort agency for most of the 90s. She worked at a high end escort agency in New York City, the type that the only way you’d hear about it is through word of mouth through investment bankers, actors, etc. You couldn’t just look them up in a phone book; you had to be a serious player in New York City to even know about this agency.
When the scandals were unfolding a few days ago, my wife’s sister was visiting and as these stories kept playing she told us that one of her clients back in the day was none other than The Donald himself. We asked her to tell more and she said that for a couple years, every few weeks, he’d want to see her. Sometimes it’d be for the night, sometimes for a weekend, and sometimes for a week or two. She complained that he would give her little or no notice and she was expected to be ready before a stretch limo parked outside her apartment, which could be a matter of minutes, giving her little or no time to get ready, get a few changes of clothes, etc. She said he was very impatient and was known to have the limo driver drive away if a girl took too long and he was known to pressure the agency to fire girls who tested his patience. He would never be in the limo but the limo would take her to an apartment somewhere, either one to a building that he famously owned or other apartments throughout the city that were totally discreet.
She said that he liked it rough, really rough. As in practically pulling her hair out by the roots rough. Then once he was done, he went back on his brick phone and started calling and yelling at people. She would often not know when he was done with her or not. So as she walked out the door he would say, “Wait wait wait. Where are you going?” They would often go eat afterwards. Sometimes he would ask her to blow him on the way to a restaurant. He said that he paid well and left a generous tip but it was with the understanding that your rear end better be ready for his next call and you better be ready to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
She also said that even with his financial troubles in the 90s, he always spent a lot of money on escorts. Known to run as high as into the hundreds of thousands of dollars per year at least when she was escorting. For his favorite girls, he would set them up in hotel suites, give them jewelry, and my wife’s sister was disappointed that she never got anything from him. She said that rough sex aside, he was a pretty typical client and knew some people who are still prominent that got into some weird poo poo.
Naturally we asked about his cock and she said it was average but that he was fat even in the 1990s and after sex would be out of breath and sweaty for a long time. He wasn’t the type to care about exercise, he thought he was bulletproof and assumed that he didn’t need to lift weights or eat properly.
Regardless of whether this one is true it makes sense and is 100% in character for him
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Oct 20, 2016 13:46
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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Alt-right idiots always have "totally justified reasons" for thinking the way they do which when they articulate them turn out to be entirely in their head (see: not getting jobs or dates he thought he was entitled to; seething all day at welfare queens) or complete nonsense (see: the Muslim takeover, decline, and fall of Canada)
I fail to see anything wrong about a rich guy loving hookers and expecting fast service for good money. Did he grab her by the pussy tho?
There is the part where he's running for President on the ticket of the party of family values and our lord and savior Jesus Christ
e:
Stopped believing at "generous tip"
hey, no one respects women more than him, he said so
loquacius fucked around with this message at 15:18 on Oct 20, 2016
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Oct 20, 2016 14:53
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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Trump confessions are up, must be late October
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In 2002 we went to Atlantic city for a family vacation for the week in September to celebrate my parents 25th anniversary. My brother and I were early teens and obviously to young to go to the casinos and adult stuff so we enjoyed the beach and board walk while our parents did their thing.
Any way when we got back home we had a bunch of video from the vacation as my father recorded everything. During the time we were their they were running the miss America thing in one of the boardwalk buildings. Apparently my parents went to a meet and greet dinner that happened during the expo and in one of the videos my pops recorded has Donald Trump smacking a contestants rear end and her looking like what the gently caress pissed. Me and my brother found it funny at the time.
With all the poo poo going on I called him the other day to see if we should upload the tape or give it to someone but decided against it as we don't want our 15 minutes of fame for bringing this video up.
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I'm on Imodium aka lope aka yes that goons boyfriend died from it aka anti diarrhea medication
I take up to 170~ 2mg pills at least every other day and sometimes daily just to stave off the withdrawals and have been like this for at least a year and few months
The "high" is sort of enjoyable but the main reason I take it is just to fend off withdrawals
I work retail so getting the pills is easy every day and it's not a problem to take that many pills anymore in less than a couple minutes
I do want to get off of it and have to time my days off to take big amounts of laxities and it's almost an all day affair sometimes
I dont post much and would never even admit to using them even the real way of 4-6 pills max
must be weird to have that much of your life revolve around pooping
Un-anonymous confession, I have IBS and if I take old-people fiber supplements twice a day I'm fine 95% of the time, nothing like this
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Oct 21, 2016 13:18
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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On the off chance the Trump tape is real, you can just drop off a copy at every local newsroom, or e-mail it anonymously to Wikileaks, Nick Denton, Buzzfeed, Vice, etc. There's no need at all for your identity to be known if you don't want it to be. An unexpected, one-time, one-way message is super safe.
Wikileaks would not only not leak the video but also get Russian hackers to brick your hard drive so you couldn't post it anywhere else, but Buzzfeed or Vice would def be all the gently caress over that poo poo.
And yeah anon you've already proven your ability to use Guerrillamail; that really is all you need.
surely you could just like take 1 immodium pill a day less and not get withdrawal. 170 is a long loving time to wean yourself off it
I think once you get as deep into a drug you don't need as that guy is you're lying if you say you're only still doing it to ward off the shakes. Dude must really like pooping all weekend.
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Oct 21, 2016 15:13
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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ok let's see
My doctor has me taking probiotics too but they're expensive because insurance companies think they're snake oil and I'm unsure whether I agree
That's about all I got
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Oct 21, 2016 15:41
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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How come? I honestly don't know.
Julian Assange has a personal vendetta against Hillary Clinton, and Vlad Putin has geopolitical and financial interest in Trump winning because he's super pro-Russia, so they have joined forces to influence the election by leaking all of Clinton's poo poo and none of Trump's
Unfortunately for them Trump is such a godawful candidate that nothing they do is going to stop the inevitable
The implacable Trump Train gained momentum steadily all year and is about to use all of that momentum to crash into a nuclear power plant as hard as it possibly can
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Oct 21, 2016 15:50
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- Adbot
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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May 11, 2024 08:02
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- loquacius
- Oct 21, 2008
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Dannon Activia has probiotics I thought?
Sure, but if I bought it in the same quantities I have to buy the pills in (2 per day, same as the fiber) it'd actually be way more expensive, and I don't even like yogurt
The thing is, since going on the combination of probiotics+fiber my bowel has gotten way less irritable, and I dunno how much of that had to do with the probiotic specifically. My current plan is when I run out of probiotics I'll try doing just fiber for a week and see if life gets awful again and decide whether to sink more money into probiotics based on that result.
e: oh wait if your question was "doesn't the presence of probiotics in this consumer product mean that they are not snake oil" then I'm p sure the answer is no
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Oct 21, 2016 20:00
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Oct 7, 2016 00:57
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