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Posts tagged “misunderstood

Loving The Preggies

As a red-blooded, heterosexual, misogynist male, I have been busy scoping out chicks’ asses, hips, waists and breasts. It’s not because I want to mind you. It’s because society expects me to. I’m just a victim of my conditioning. I can’t help it.

With the disclaimer out of the way, I have been noticing a lot of parasite-bearing ladies happily flaunting their distended bellies everywhere. It’s seems that spawning time is almost upon us and a new crop of leeches will be loosed on humanity i.e. lots of heavily pregnant women be waddling around.

Now, while I lament their misplaced joy at bringing new life in the world, I have been noticing that my troublesome 2nd brain twitches when the women are in sight going, “You know you wouldn’t mind gutting that fish.” And I go “Dammit penis! I don’t need a new perversion to add to my CV!”

But it has a point. I’m more than a bit curious at stabbing the cat of a heavily pregnant, about-to-break-their-water kind of woman. First of all, the mechanics alone would be worth it. Missionary suddenly becomes a maneuver on par with handling nuclear material. If I jackhammer with abandon like a horny rabbit, is there a real chance of inducing a premature birth?


And if the baby can hear all the soothing sounds of classical music while in the womb, will it also be privy to the sounds of it’s mother bumping uglies? Science, I NEED TO KNOW!

Can I punch a baby if I fist the mother hard enough? Will I feel the soft head cave-in as I tickle the lady’s g-spot? How far would my arm have to travel to accomplish that? And would it heighten her pleasure? (See, ladies! With me, it’s all about you! ūüėČ )

How about 69’ing? Can the body even contort and stretch over that huge hump to get to the gash? Or is that simply a pipe dream at that stage of gestation?

I don’t know if it’s just sexual curiosity that’s the cause of my new found re-evaluation of the baby ejectors, or my maturity as a person (hehehe) that has allowed me to take notice of their attractiveness. But this is a venture that has to be explored at some point in time. Something else to add to the bucket list, along with setting fire to dog’s balls and wearing a suit of bees.

Too Tired For Baby Killing

Writing these days has proven to be a chore. The stresses and strains of having to pretend you’re a mature grownup have proven to be very taxing even for my Oscar-worthy acting skills. Things crop up, deadlines, pressures to perform and timelines to be met and before you know it, you’re stumbling into bed at 10pm, waiting to do it all over again the next day.

I don’t have time to search my favourite internet haunts for pictures and stories that will scour away the remainder of my soul. No time to listen to podcasts that push the boundaries of the shreds of decency that stubbornly cling onto my person. I don’t even have time for looking up what scenes from my favourite pornstars are up to.

I also can’t spare the energy to hate on the abominations that infests our lands that are children. They’ve been relegated to ants and herpes; an evil that I just have to learn to live with (not that I have herpes, at least that wasn’t the case last time I checked. So ladies, the ride is still open for business, OH YEAH!) No longer do I dream of creative ways of turning them into finger food. I’m too busy dreaming of how much sleep I’d love to get. Fantasies of kids as strength test dummies for prosthetic limbs have to be set aside for that fictional off day that is yet to arrive. I can no longer smile as I drift off to sleep because I don’t craft new ways of turning into a profitable competition the immense pleasure of dropping those unhuman monstrosities into active volcanoes.

If nothing else, this is what I will miss most as the responsible facade I put up becomes a reality, that more infants will be birthed and not immediately turned into finger food. Because I’ll have to live with the knowledge that if the world had given me more time, a baby-free utopia would have been ours to enjoy.

The Struggle Of The Man-Child

The man-child: A noble creature that has been continuously hunted and persecuted, but just like prostitution, has refused to stay down and has managed to eke out an existence on the fringes of humanity. Even in this day and age when whoredom is gaining legitimacy and even legal status, man-children still suffer out in the cold of public rejection.

Beaten down for refusing to give in to societal pressure and sticking fast to what he holds dear, the man-child has been dubbed a failure. “Growing up” is venerated as the ideal everyone should aspire to, as if it is a long, hard struggle that few can achieve. But literally, billions¬†upon¬†billions of human beings have managed to do accomplish it, proving it’s nothing special.

All the man-child wants is the freedom to be what they want to be. Too many people pay lip service to the concept, but only the man-child follows through. Only the man-child is brave enough to reject attempts at burdening him with problems and issues in the name of “responsibility”, and seeks to carve his own path. Think of it as the purest form of the pursuit of happiness.

Most will claim that his interest in video games, shiny new toys, fast cars, women of questionable moral integrity is just immature and shallow. That his disregard of social norms by refusing hygiene, clinging to youth, indulging in substances with mind-altering properties, or ignoring emotional attachments make him an abomination to be shunned. But I say that a man-child has just managed to find his definition of bliss. And isn’t that what we all strive for? To be free from expectations of what we should be and how we should be. A man-child is that freedom personified, and should lauded for essentially achieving heaven on earth.

Let us begin to put an end to this last wall of discrimination and give the man-child his proper place in society as the icon that he is.

I Am Not What You Think I Am! Seriously!

Is there really anything with (arguably) a man such as myself sitting down and enjoying a video such as this? Can’t I enjoy some pop entertainment just because there are a bunch of kids running around?

I have been accused severally and from many different sectors of liking my poon tang young and untouched. All manner of jokes have been made, e.g. “Will you dump your current gf now that she’s finished class 8?”, or “Do you have to make aeroplane noises to get your cock in your girlfriend’s mouth?”. The jokes just keep on coming and I’m finally sick and tired of it all.

None of you have been through my browser history, so none of you can judge what my tastes and perversions are. Just because my hard drive is full of hot teen and barely legal porn, just because I don’t have a huge problem with my little sister barging into my room with all her little playmates, just because most of the anime I watch has 13 yr old middle school girls showing off their strawberry patterned panties…Excuse me for a moment…

…And I’m back! All this is no reason to accuse of such¬†dastardly¬†deeds and thoughts. Children are a right pleasure (if you know what I’m talking about, UP TOP!) and I just watch them on the playground and in their rooms to make sure that no harm comes to them, that’s all. So please, no more pedo jokes, ok?

Nothing wrong with looking at athleticism on display

I just crossed the line, didn’t I?