Just something I'm doing for the hell of it, but very funny if you are into Invader Zim
Oh, and for the record: Love is finding hardcore porn on your girlfriend's computer and not laughing your ass off at her. (yes, this just happened to me)
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So my dad claims to be a sex addict now.
Sex addict. This is when politically correct has gone too far.
If a guy had gone around fucking every chick they could in pre-historic times, what would they have called him?
A man, that's what.
There is no such thing as a sex addict. There is only the sexually starved socially aware (most of us) and the people who never evolved beyond what their genes tell them to do.
If my father had sex with lots of women throughout my life it was so that he wouldn't have sex with any men.
No, really; I'm serious.
When my dad was 13 he was in what these days might be called a gang - except there weren't really black people back then, not in my dad's world anyhow.
Anyways so in this gang these guys would ride around on their bikes together all day and camp out together at night. Except they didn't just 'camp-out'. My father used to tell my mother all these stories of his homosexual adventours with these other neigherhood guys who he played sports with during the day and who were otherwise his best friends.
He would usually tell these stories, my mother tells me, around the time that he would come home from travelling all exciting about meeting some young guy who was a real 'go getter' and who was 'moving up in the world'.
Sometimes my mom would find strip-club cards in my dad's pocket but usually what she found was his willingness to explain all kinds of detail about this young man's life.
Keith. Jerry. Kennith. Rodney. Alex.
But other than that my dad was just a womanizer. (Well, and an abusive alcoholic.) I sensed it for years but I couldn't prove it until I lured him into using the computer to meet women. Then it was just a matter of key-logging and *bam*: instant divorce - just add water.
The thing that always has boggled me about Dad is that as far as I can tell he is the only person who I have ever met who simple COULD NOT be a good person if his very life depended upon it. Somewhere deep within him there was just pure unadulterated hatred of life.
I could go into more detail, but what's the point? I'm sure you've seen people do bad things in life. Imagine one person who did that all. That's my daddy.
He told me this story once: He was 9 years old and a house across the street had caught fire. The best man he had ever known was trapped within it. He watched, over the cource of an hour, this man scream and flail and try every possible way to escape. In the end the man died. All that remained was his bones and teeth.
He also told me once about how on sunday morning his father would 'take him to church' and once they got to town he would hand him a 20 and tell him to meet him back three is 3 hours. I never met my grandfather but I've heard that, asside from his well known womanizing, he was a very good man.
So what really concerns me - truelly deeply concerns me - is that saying about apples not landing far from tress.
Ofcource all this shit is coming up because I've finally had sex. But to tell you the truth I don't really get what the big deal is. So far sex has been anything but sexual for me - it's been scientific. It's felt like doing an experiment that ends in an orgasm.
The fact is that I'm going to have some traits like my father, no matter how hard I try not to, but I have yet to figure out what they are (with the exception of a natural drive toward masocism) and that is kind of scarry.
Oh, and for the record: Love is finding hardcore porn on your girlfriend's computer and not laughing your ass off at her. (yes, this just happened to me)
================================
So my dad claims to be a sex addict now.
Sex addict. This is when politically correct has gone too far.
If a guy had gone around fucking every chick they could in pre-historic times, what would they have called him?
A man, that's what.
There is no such thing as a sex addict. There is only the sexually starved socially aware (most of us) and the people who never evolved beyond what their genes tell them to do.
If my father had sex with lots of women throughout my life it was so that he wouldn't have sex with any men.
No, really; I'm serious.
When my dad was 13 he was in what these days might be called a gang - except there weren't really black people back then, not in my dad's world anyhow.
Anyways so in this gang these guys would ride around on their bikes together all day and camp out together at night. Except they didn't just 'camp-out'. My father used to tell my mother all these stories of his homosexual adventours with these other neigherhood guys who he played sports with during the day and who were otherwise his best friends.
He would usually tell these stories, my mother tells me, around the time that he would come home from travelling all exciting about meeting some young guy who was a real 'go getter' and who was 'moving up in the world'.
Sometimes my mom would find strip-club cards in my dad's pocket but usually what she found was his willingness to explain all kinds of detail about this young man's life.
Keith. Jerry. Kennith. Rodney. Alex.
But other than that my dad was just a womanizer. (Well, and an abusive alcoholic.) I sensed it for years but I couldn't prove it until I lured him into using the computer to meet women. Then it was just a matter of key-logging and *bam*: instant divorce - just add water.
The thing that always has boggled me about Dad is that as far as I can tell he is the only person who I have ever met who simple COULD NOT be a good person if his very life depended upon it. Somewhere deep within him there was just pure unadulterated hatred of life.
I could go into more detail, but what's the point? I'm sure you've seen people do bad things in life. Imagine one person who did that all. That's my daddy.
He told me this story once: He was 9 years old and a house across the street had caught fire. The best man he had ever known was trapped within it. He watched, over the cource of an hour, this man scream and flail and try every possible way to escape. In the end the man died. All that remained was his bones and teeth.
He also told me once about how on sunday morning his father would 'take him to church' and once they got to town he would hand him a 20 and tell him to meet him back three is 3 hours. I never met my grandfather but I've heard that, asside from his well known womanizing, he was a very good man.
So what really concerns me - truelly deeply concerns me - is that saying about apples not landing far from tress.
Ofcource all this shit is coming up because I've finally had sex. But to tell you the truth I don't really get what the big deal is. So far sex has been anything but sexual for me - it's been scientific. It's felt like doing an experiment that ends in an orgasm.
The fact is that I'm going to have some traits like my father, no matter how hard I try not to, but I have yet to figure out what they are (with the exception of a natural drive toward masocism) and that is kind of scarry.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
A sad philosophy:
The end is the end, and you already know.
Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy the present.
But when you sit back and analyze;
reviewing your greatest moments
of love and laughter
You try to examine why-
And you can't name the source-
You draw a blank...
It's empty
It's black
And you realize...
You realize that the picture you're mind is trying to depict as a reason is the same picture when you try to think of what death will be like;
Black emptiness, six feet under the earth.
And personally, I like to have a purpose when I do things.
...See where my awful habit of thinking left my motivation...
::sigh::