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2020.10.04 08:15 88y53 The Science of Batman's Rogues Gallery

Killer Croc - Standing over seven feet tall, Wayland Jones could be said to be larger than life and twice as horrifying. Born with a combination of gigantism, acromegaly, a rare form of Ichthyosis, neurofibromatosis, epidermodysplasia verruciformis, and hypertrophy, he faced a life of discrimination from all fronts which molded him into the monstrous misanthrope he is today.
Although he has many medical issues due to his deformities, his stature grants him terrifying strength and speed, while his other disorders make his bones thicker and limbs longer, his fingers sharp with horns, and his skin thick with “scales” that can stop small caliber bullets. He could easily kill several men in moments when properly motivated. These physical attributes only became worse when he was infected with a retrovirus that spliced his genes with that of lizards; giving him more beastial traits and degrading his mind even further.
The Riddler - Edward Nashton AKA Edward Nigma is a brilliant man with a disproportionate ego. Abrasive, self-absorbed, and with a hunger for validation makes him simultaneously the most dangerous and simplest enemies in Batman’s rogues gallery.
Growing up with an abusive father who repeatedly beat him, ridiculed his intelligence, and called him a cheater, fueled his hunger for validation and a pathological need to prove his brilliance. While trying to find work in legitimate fields, his ego simply couldn’t handle the humdrum life of a salaryman, thus starting his criminal career. Beginning as a simple con artist, his appetite for attention soon grew, as well as his obsession with Batman, the “World’s Greatest Detective.”
Exhibiting signs of both Histrionic Personality Disorder and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder — he is demanding, energetic, manipulative, impulsive, gullible, overly concerned with his appearance and standings, and has a low tolerance for frustration. He also has a near-crippling compulsion to leave his trademark riddles behind; these riddles always contain clues in how to stop him, but he can’t help but craft them and leave them behind. He simply can’t suppress the need to do so.
Poison Ivy - Pamala Lilian Isley, once a promising botanist who was betrayed by her mentor as part of an insane experiment, is now the notorious eco-terrorist she is today.
Ivy’s plant mutations are the result of her rudimentary connection with the Green -- a morphogenic field that connects all plant life of the Earth. Through her will alone, she can command any plants in her vicinity to grow and move in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible. One of her most insidious abilities is her “pheromone control,” which involves germinating fungal spores through the air that quickly infect her targets and use behavioural conditioning to reshape the minds of infected through stimulating the pleasure centers of the brain as well as releasing high amounts of oxytocin.
She can also release deadly amounts of belladonna, aconite, hemlock, and even cyanide in her lips and saliva. Oddly, her system doesn’t seem to interact with these toxins or a variety of others.
Her connection to the Green is artificial, and therefore unstable, which has had a negative affect on her brain chemistry; she exhibits erratic behavior, violent mood swings, holding grudges for slights both real and imaginary, a highly sexual attitude, a pronounced hatred of men, and an ever-growing detachment to human conventions and morality.
Her ultimate goal is the eradication of all humans and allowing nature to reclaim the world. Though, while she claims to hate all humans equally, she has made exceptions to this rule on several occasions, such as her rather chaotic relationship with Harley Quinn and a soft spot for children.
Bane - The criminal known only as Bane is, in general, already a physical force to reckon with, even without the military drug known as Venom. Due to living most of his life in the hellish Santa Prisca prison system, he developed a natural aptitude for plyometrics: accessing more of the dormant strength in the muscles by partially bypassing a natural function of the nervous system called the inhibition reflex. The muscles therefore release more power more rapidly, generating as much strength as possible before the reflex occurs.
In its original form, the drug was more like an adrenal enhancer that pushed his natural strength to the max. However, the drug was modified extensively afterwards, with each new iteration being a better version of what it currently is -- a gene therapy drug. In a process known as “gene doping,” the drug - mixed with adrenaline for added speed and a carrier fluid with an extreme amount of energy per mass - causes an explosion of adult stem cells made to behave like embryonic stem cells (known as induced pluripotent stem cells) that causes tumor-like growths in the musculoskeletal system of his body. His lungs are also altered to pull more CO2 out of the atmosphere and convert it into hydrocarbons for muscle and carbon fiber for bones.
He grows two feet taller while his muscles, tendons, ligaments, cartilage, bones, and organs become inhumanly strong. The transformation is so traumatic and puts his hormonal systems into such an overdrive that he enters a hysterical state similar to the berserker rage of Norse legend, where his higher brain functions become suppressed. From there, pain, reasoning, and fear are replaced with pure fury.
At this stage, his only weakness is the drugs administration system (which is affixed to his back), as its exposed tubing can easily be cut, allowing his accelerated heart to pump the drug out of his veins. His body immediately goes through withdrawals and he “crashes,” while the additional body mass withers away.
The Penguin - Unlike the other denizens of Gotham’s underworld, Oswald Cobblepot isn’t suffering from any mental disorders. He’s just incredibly vindictive. Stemming from years of psychological abuse from his alcoholic father, a mother that downplayed the abuse, and bullying from other children over his short stature, he has an almost pathological inability to forget slights no matter how petty. After he and his mother were left destitute (which he, of course, blames the Wayne family for), he became motivated to restore his family honor and level of social standings. Applying his natural business acumen to illegal markets has allowed him to amass considerable power in organized crime, helped by the fact that he’s on the whole seen as a more reliable and safer alternative to other criminals like Two-Face or the Joker. He keeps a very neutral approach to his criminal activities; utilizing compartmentalization (similar to Sicilian mafia dons) to associate even things as heinous as murder as simply a philanthropic effort.
Out of all the super-criminals of Gotham city, he has the highest chance of reforming, but he's simply a man who won’t allow himself any long-term peace or happiness due to a mix of pride and resentment.
Ra’s al Ghul - The Demon’s Head is a long-lived leader of a terrorist organization known as the League of Assassins. His long life is attributed to the legendary Lazarus Pits:
The substance that fills each pit is a chemical blend of unknown composition, seemingly originating from somewhere within the Earth's crust. For an unknown reason, it bubbles to the surface only at certain key points around the globe, typically at the junction of ley lines. These Pits bathe him in a precise mixture of these chemicals and acids that rapidly rejuvenate all the cells in his body without the need of his chromosomal telomeres by reprogramming his cell’s epigenome to their time zero, or embryonic state.
As a cell ages, it accumulates errors in the marking system, which degrade the cell’s efficiency at switching on and off the genes needed for its operations. This can be reversed with a set of four transcription factors — agents that activate genes — that the Pits directly stimulate. A cell dosed with Lazarus Pits chemicals erases the marks on the epigenome, so the cell loses its identity and reverts to the embryonic state. Erroneous marks gathered during aging are also lost in the process, restoring the cell to its state of youth. This resets the cell’s Hayflick limit, allowing them to continue dividing normally.
The process is extremely painful, and causes a massive hormonal imbalance, leading to a temporary blind rage and madness. The effects of the Pit can be amplified with proper diet and exercise, but it is not a permanent fix. One must routinely bathe in the Pit before the anti-aging effects wear off, and the time periods between each bath shortens. What’s worse is that neurochemical imbalance begins to take their toll, making the resulting madness last longer each time.
Two-Face - Harvey Dent has, in addition to a fragile psyche prone to dissociative disorders, an extreme case of Alien-Hand Syndrome and Split Brain Syndrome. The corpus callosum of Harvey’s brain - the connecting between the two hemispheres of the brain - was damaged to a significant degree, resulting in a loss of cohesion in his mind. This, along with his dissociation, manifest in him feeling split between two halves -- a good half (an honest and hard-working victim) and a bad half (a hateful and vengeful criminal). His only way to cope with this decoherence is the use of a double-faced silver dollar that’s scarred on one side, leaving the major decisions up to a 50/50 coin toss.
There is some evidence for Borderline Personality Disorder (personality dissociation, black-and-white splitting, mood swings, alternating between extreme idealization and devaluation, and frequent outbursts of inappropriate anger), but the result could be skewed due to his above conditions.
Firefly - Garfield Lynns, once a pyrotechnics specialist, quickly fell deeper and deeper into his pyromania and became a career arsonist. After being taken away from their abusive parents, Garfield Lynns and his sister, Amanda, grew up at the St. Evangelina Home for Orphans. Unlike his relatively normal sister, Garfield was a problematic child whom nobody wanted to adopt. As an adult, Lynns became a pyrotechnics and special effects expert in the film industry, but eventually fell victim to Gotham City's severe poverty issues and turned to a life of crime as a result. While he initially only committed arson during his robberies as a hobby, Lynns' compulsion to start fires soon turned into a pyromaniacal obsession as a result of his abusive and troubled childhood.
Despite his reputation, Lynns is actually incredibly intelligent with a surprising grasp on not just pyrotechnics and explosives, but also mechanical engineering, having designed and built his flight suit and developed his fuel source. His jetpack-style flying machine is attached to him via a multi-point harness. The wings are powered by four small-scale jet engines (two for each wing), which are scaled-down replicas of those found on fighter aircraft. The engines burn a fuel which has more energy density than rocket fuel t generates enough thrust to enable Lynns to sustain low-altitude flight for nearly an hour depending on his speed and atmospheric conditions.
The wings themselves are made from a series of carbon-fibre panels and scaffolding, form a two-metre (6.6-foot)-wide main body. Attached to this are the wings’ four jet engines as well as the fuel tanks, which sit either side of his back, with Lynns positioned at the top-centre of the pack.
Due to the large power and heat generated by the wing’s engines, Lynns himself wears a specially designed heavily heat resistant suit that works in partnership with a carbon-fibre heat shield installed around the vehicle’s exhaust tail. The pack is controlled by a combination of the wings sublet orientation, Lynns’ own head, arm and leg movements, and an engine throttle. Together, he can climb, descend and sweep left and right gracefully, without spinning out of control. However, in the event that a mechanical failure or other emergency were to occur, the wing can be detached and both Lynns and the device can land safely using parachutes.
If that wasn’t enough, he also wields a high-powered flamethrower that uses its own fuel tank (which is naturally larger than the pack’s tanks) with a flame that extends over 30 feet. He also carries a large amount of incendiary grenades, napalm, smoke bombs, and explosives when the flamethrower runs out.
Lady Shiva - One constant throughout Sandra Woosan’s difficult early life was martial arts, of which she was an unparalleled prodigy. After leaving her village, immigrating to America, and enduring many tragedies along the way, she soon became addicted to violence and became a mercenary bodyguard. Fetching a high price for her unmatched talents.
Woosan uses a combination of biofeedback techniques, her extensive training, and uniquely innate anticipatory processing system which gives her exceptional awareness of her surroundings. Using these three key methods in tandem allows her body to reflexively react to incoming threats without even needing to consciously register the movements, making her basically untouchable in fights. This “combat clairvoyance” has given her the frighteningly accurate reputation as the best fighter in the world. To date, outside of very rare exceptions, she is undefeated in terms of hand-to-hand combat.
Scarecrow - Dr. Jonathan Crane falls into the spectrum of Sadistic Personality Disorder, specifically the Tyrannical Sadist -- a person who relishes menacing and brutalizing others. From an early age he developed an obsession with fear, and spent the intervening years studying it and how to instill it in others. To that end, he created a hallucinatory drug and a speech distortion system to cause drug-induced temporary psychosis in his victims. The drug itself is a mix of salvia divinorum and deliriants from the plant of the genus datura (jimson or belladonna). This makes his famous Fear Toxin fast-acting and the hallucinatory effects incredibly strong. In addition to his terrifying “Scarecrow” costume, his speaker system also generates infrasound to produce anxiety which increases the hallucination’s intensity.
Mr. Freeze - Victor Fries was a cryogenic scientist who was exposed to his own cryogenic chemicals during a laboratory sabotage. His body’s thermoregulation was thrown out of equilibrium to the point that he can no longer tolerate room temperatures. In environmental conditions above freezing causes temperature urticaria; rashes quickly develop leaving him in near-paralyzing pain. To deal with this, he built a powered exoskeleton that also doubles as a mobile refrigeration unit.
The suit is almost 8 feet tall with a distributed weight of almost 400lbs. The hydraulic architecture is highly efficient, enabling the system to run on several kinetic harvesters that draw power from walking. Sensors across the body relay information to an onboard microcomputer that moves the hydraulic system to amplify and enhance the wearer's movement. There is no joystick or control mechanism, instead sensors detect movement and, using an onboard micro-computer, make the suit move in time with the body. The system's titanium structure and hydraulic power augments his ability, strength, and performance, making him a dangerous physical opponent.
However, his most famous weapon is what sets him apart from other brute-strength adversaries -- his Freeze Gun. A cannon that houses an array of powerful cooling lasers that collapses pellets into super-cooled condensate stream that snap-freezes anything it impacts.
Unlike most of the entries here, Victor Fries doesn’t suffer from any mental disorders and is solely motivated by finding treatment for his wife’s illness, of which he believes only he can cure.
The Joker - The self-styled “Clown Prince of Crime” and the worst criminal in Gotham’s sordid history.
Ultimately nothing is known for sure about the Joker, or why he came to be. His fingerprints have no match, nor do his dental records, and DNA testing has proven inconclusive. He gives conflicting reports about his life but they all have two things in common; the theme of “one bad day," and Batman.
His unique appearance - green hair, white skin, and ruby lips - are all natural and not a product of makeup or dye. One of his most popular explanations for this is falling into a chemical runoff, which seems the most logical given that green is almost unheard of in hair pigmentation. His body could create a copper-based pigment similar to turacoverdin, giving his body hair its classic green shade.
Many people have their own theories as to any potential psychological disorders, everything from BPD, to narcissism, to ASPD, to schizophrenia, to DID, to any mix of the above, but none can provide any satisfactory conclusion. He seems to follow a kind of quasi-nihilistic/existential philosophy that incorporates dadaism and absurdism -- all that matters is his thematic war with Batman, and he will do and say anything if it means he’d win the philosophical argument. He will literally die to make a point.
He seems to be a chemistry and engineering savant as he evidently had no formal education but can design complex structures, build bombs, and develop his infamous Laughing Gas—an aerosol spray that causes uncontrollable spasms of laughter, followed by a painful death. Some have speculated that the gas hyper stimulates the laughter functions of the brain, leaving the victim unable to breathe. It is also possible that this drug contains tetanus toxin as victims often exhibit a grotesque “rictus grin” due to spasms of the facial muscles. The gas is almost always lethal, but varying degrees of exposure can be treated with sedatives.
He’s an expert manipulator and can figure out a person’s deepest weaknesses for his exploitation. He shows no remorse for any of his action or past crimes (with only one known exception) and when questioned about any of it, he deflects with particularly ghoulish humor. There are some who theorize he’s suffering from Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy from his repeated violent encounters with Batman. This would explain his volatile and sporadic mental state, but nothing can be proven until his brain is dissected. There’s also some controversy over whether he’s actually mentally ill at all, or if he’s just a clever criminal who’s simply good at "faking it." The more zany fringe theories attempt to explain his contradictory existence by crafting him as not even a person at all, but as some kind of boogeymen figure; a nightmarish spirit that spontaneously took form and came into being to cause as much misery as possible.
Some believe, however, that there wasn’t actually any single “bad day“ that created the Joker, rather he was a completely unique individual who endured the right combination of tragedies and traumas cumulatively that ultimately shaped his psyche into what it is now.
In the end, the only person that knows for sure of who he is and what’s wrong with him is the Joker -- what he does makes sense to him and only to him, and he isn’t sharing.
[Author’s Note: this post was suggested by a user named canIgetamcchickenpls. If you believe I have made any errors, please feel free to offer corrections, or offer suggestions for future posts]
submitted by 88y53 to batman [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 09:55 baldgasper_ A vent on loneliness (and my town)

Just wanted to get some of these negative emotions out, I don't know if this'll help, but honestly I got nothing better. I'll also swear a little, since that helps getting my frustration and anger out better. Anyways, here goes.
Last year of high school for me, and boy has time been going slowly. School was never my forte, every year I'd go back expecting something new and unique, something to really change things, and yet every year I'm disappointed right from the start, same old shit cake, so to speak, and these are just the first bites. Now the problem is that everyone around me seems to be at least semi-happy: usually smiling, usually laughing, always having something positive to say, never having this pissed off, depressed, sad grin on their faces, but I do, all the fucking time. Young people aren't supposed to be this grumpy, right? Well I don't know, I just have nothing positive to talk about, I don't like making stuff up, and nothing that I do seems to be worthy of being called an achievement. My mom always tries cheering me up by saying "well, you have arms, legs, eyes, ears, you're healthy, etc etc", sure, but other people around me also have arms, legs, eyes, ears, and they also have bands they play in, friends to talk to, reputations, careers, motivation, girlfriends, boyfriends. And here we have finally reached the main cause of my enormous depression: I'm in twelfth grade, and I still haven't had a girlfriend.
I mean what gives?, see the thing is, I ain't a bad looking guy: I'm tall, slim, long hair, I care about style. I can talk about basically anything: from world-pollution to beastiallity, any topic I'll find what to say. Nonetheless, when it comes to me, I'm like the biggest anti-chick magnet in this entire town, girls would rather jump off and bridge than have any contact with me, they'd rather be blind than look at me, I'm over expressing this but you get my idea. I'm also bisexual, I have a thing for feminine guys, but I guess I'm an anti-guy magnet as well.
Anyways, after years and years of trying to appeal and impress these pricks I figured out the answer to this big dilemma: this town just really isn't worth it. I don't know why I didn't see this sooner, but the people here are some of the biggest rejects out there, I mean you have to be 100% on par with the current stereotypes or they just won't accept you. As a guy, I have to have short hair, wear usually black or gray, talk about cars and basketball, and listen to dumb edgy rap, because those are the only things guys can do, my town's tiny brains can't process anything different, hell, me having long hair probably makes these people think I'm an alien. I'd have to watch life-hacks as entertainment, look at shitty overused memes, hang out with people only to get drunk and smoke cigarettes to be a part of this dumb society, screw that, but in doing so, I can only rely on myself to survive another damn year of this garbage, yippee.
Now you may be thinking, that surely through out this entire town there has to be someone at least semi-tolerable, well, you'd be very wrong, 'course I have no way of proving that, you'd just have to see it for yourself. Hell, these people don't even know what "The Room" is, do I have to say anything else?
Then there's the "underground" part of town's people. I had to put airquotes there, because calling these people underground is like calling Nickleback good rock music. No, these people aren't underground, because if calling yourself underground means smashing a bunch of stuff together to make an all out dumb mess, then I don't want to know what the definition of cool in this town is. Basically, they'll get one thing right, but only one, perhaps a nice piece of clothing, but then they'll screw the rest up with something indescribably dumb, like poorly painted unmatching nails, or those dumb trendy socks with a bunch of stupid shit on them, man I should write a rant on those socks someday too. They might have a nice voice tone, but then they decide to use a bunch of vulgar shit and screw that up, and I don't mean english vulgar shit, I mean russian vulgar shit, cykas and blyats, oh yes. They might have some nice topics to talk about, but then they'll start using those dumb sciency words, because apparently those make you smarter, hell, they might just start speaking latin, what others can't understand makes you a more intelligent person, right? All in all, like I said, they'll get one thing right and then screw it up somehow, it's almost like a form of art to be honest. Even if they have bands or nice reputations in this town, I still wouldn't consider them anywhere near the word underground or cool, or tubular, or narly, you get the idea, I'd say wannabe suits them more.
Well, now that I'm done basically screaming at my computer, the big question is: why did I write any of this? I don't respect these people, I don't think they're people to begin with, but the thing is - they're happy. Every day I walk past them, and all I see is how positive, happy, and proud of themselves these people are, they are happy by being themselves, whereas I am being myself too, but not happy one bit. They are accepted, because they have similar interests and thoughts, I think in a different way, I like different things, "be yourself" is what they tell you, but at what cost? Eighteen years of loneliness, eighteen fucking years of trying to find myself in this miserable place, yeah right, it just comes to show that having a personality of your own is one hell of a tough task. Even if I do slightly respect this "being myself", it doesn't help to know that while other people are moving forward in life, I sit here, waiting for something to change, wasting my hours, I almost feel like I have midlife crisis, and I'm fucking eighteen. I tried approaching a few girls before, all of those experiences ended up with me having even bigger depression somehow, I'm afraid to even go there again, but seeing all these people in couples, couples that I know might not last long because it's our teen days, but who cares, these people are better than me, and that's giving me a hard fucking time. I've always had this damn thing of "being better than everyone", it doesn't matter what I do, as long as there's someone near me who I feel like is doing better, I'll hate them, and I'll hate myself even more, it's like why should I care?, but I do, to quote from a song of Red Vox: "I'd rather bleed, than settle for less.", sums this up pretty well. And hell, I could get a girlfriend if I wanted to, but at this point I have requirements, because after all this depression and shit I've suffered through I might as well work for something a bit nicer, a bit more "me". A girl once approached me and wanted to ask me out for a "kebab" (russian fast food basically, even though it's from Turk), and I turned her down. What I'm saying is, not everything seems to be okay with me anymore, but I mean hey, there was a time when we were kids, and dating back then was about awkward kisses in the dark and then running away from each other, something like that, now I hope to fuck it's a bit more serious than that, and no, I don't mean sex, I mean like actual feelings, similarities, preferences. If I were a kid, I'd go with basically any girl just so I could kiss her, but now I want more than that, I mean I survived through a lot, might as well get something superb after all of this, right? Again, "I'd rather bleed, then settle for less.", I think that works here too.
This vent is way too long already as it is, but what I wanted to say this whole time is... I don't even know what the fuck I was trying to say. It's like this hell I'm trapped in, and the more I try to figure it out, the more my head hurts and I just want to stop. I don't know who to blame, I usually blame myself, but you can't always be the bad guy in every situation. Everyone always tells me the same thing: don't forget yourself; maybe you're to blame, look at a mirror, etc etc over and over again, but really, what exactly did I do?, am I to blame because I think differently, or look differently, or behave differently? All my life I tried to be a nice person, I tried to help people the best I can, and I can see this mindset of a good person slowly degrading into the twisted mind of a serial killer, I mean yesterday while on a trip with our school I just wanted our bus to fucking brutally crash, killing everyone inside. I know I'm narcissistic, I know I have high expectations, but really can you blame me for that? The world is capable of so many beautiful things, I know I could find someone nice, I know I could be successful, I mean it's the 20th motherfucking century, the time of possibilities, and here I'm rotting away in some shithole so called town, that's honestly the size of a box, watching as my time flies by wastefully, and boy does it fucking hurt. Here's hoping I actually pass my exams, so I could get the fuck out of here somewhere nicer. Anyone who's in a similar situation, I hope the same for you too.
Anyways, phew, what the heck did I just write. Trust me though, I had to write one of these, because I unironically feel the screws in my brain slowly jamming, metaphorically speaking. Thank you for reading this, I really appreciate that. No reply necessary, it was nice enough of you to read this, but if you will, don't tell me to see a psychologist, because I won't, because what I didn't mention is not only do the people here suck, but so do the doctors and psychologists, I mean there's unironically a joke in med school in my country's capital city which goes like: "If you don't want to learn, just go to *my town's name*, they won't even ask, they'll just let you right in.", that says a lot. The best a psychologist might do to me is pump me full of anti-depressants which will completely screw with my sanity, so no thanks. But like I said, thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day.
submitted by baldgasper_ to LifeAdvice [link] [comments]


2020.08.26 19:40 welcometosouthapp Welcome to South App #5: "I'm a Beleaver"

Wednesday, August 26th, 2020
After a ten-day cheese binge, Gigi had gained ten pounds.
That didn’t stop Frank, the Italian Stallion, from picking her up and pinning her to the dorm room wall. They began making out in their underwear for the first time.
“Um...do you have a condom?” Gigi whispered as Frank lifted her up.
“But soft, my dear! Why, I carry the finest lambskins in the land. Made from the intestines of the most supple virgin sheep.”
Frank squeezed her thighs while sliding his tongue down her throat. But after holding her up for so long, his arms began to tremble.
“Maybe we can take it on the bed?” Gigi laughed nervously. “I guess I’m well on the way to the Freshman 15. Woo-hoo!”
Frank tossed the 130-pound Gigi onto the beanbag chair. He straddled her, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.
“On second thought, maybe not,” Gigi mouthed, gently pushing his hands away.
“But ask you did - did you not?”
“I...I like you, Frank,” Gigi admitted. “But on a sweaty bean bag chair in a dorm room? It’s...not what I have in mind for my first time!”
“Woe is me! Alas, my sexual and culinary advances remain unrequited.”
Sure enough, Frank was supposed to have cooked dinner for Gigi that previous Friday. But once she’d found out lasagna was on the menu, Gigi had promptly faked the flu. Following her secret cheese dinner with Winston, she had secretly sampled nearly every type of cheese in Buncombe County. And cottage cheese, an ingredient in Frank’s lasagna, was her least favorite. Hard pass.
Gigi slipped into her tight blue jeans and white Beavers hoodie. “Um...looks like I shall depart for class!”
“Next time, shall I conduct myself differently?”
Gigi smiled meekly. “Come as you are, Frank. We’ll try sex again in three months!”
On the 300 Hall, a naked Claire stood handcuffed to the top bunk from behind. She bit her shoulder to muffle her moan as a shiver rattled her body. An also-naked Winston stood up from his knees.
“Mmm...let’s, like, totally do it already!” Claire panted, sweat dripping down her bangs.
It would be Winston’s and Claire’s first time. And he had planned ahead with the help of a little blue pill. “Ah, right,” he grunted. “I reckon I’ll go get a Jimmy hat.”
Winston opened his desk drawer, reminded that his prized fake ID collection was missing. Whoever took it, your ass is grass, Winston thought. Then, while Claire wasn’t looking, he popped a Cialis in his mouth - his second pill in an hour. For good measure, he cracked open a can of Red Bull and chugged.
“Wow,” Claire cooed, looking down at it. “You must be, like, getting ready for a bonafide marathon with me!”
“Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed or your money back, ma’am.”
But as soon as Winston opened Claire’s legs, it happened.
A metric fuck-ton of caffeine and testosterone coursed through his veins. His pulse sank from one head to another. Target locked: Claire. She gasped in surprise. And Winston’s fragile ego, along with something else, deflated.
“Hashtag OMG,” Claire whispered, more embarrassed than Winston. “It’s, like, totally okay! It looks like we, like, had a little too much foreplay.”
Winston, dead-eyed and stone-faced, put on an old pair of Wrangler jeans and a red flannel. “I...need to give a presentation for class.”
“Oh! Like, good luck! Do you think you can, like, get me a towel?”
Winston grabbed his damp, musky shaving towel and tossed it to Claire. “Wait!” Claire called out as Winston stepped into the hallway. “You forget the-”
The door slammed.
“-Handcuff key.” Alone in Winston’s room, she stared at the key on his desk. “Hey, Siri!” she called out to her iPhone. “Call the Italian Stallion on speaker.”
Frank answered. “Ah, Claire: the woman with fire in thy loins. Shan’t you be in class at this time?”
“You’re, like, too silly! Mornings are for sobering up, not classing. Anywho, Winston I and totally ended our morning...prematurely.”
“Methinks you and Winston hath made more progress than Gigi and yours truly.”
“Aw, you poor thing!” Claire teased, sticking out her lower lip. “Tell you what. My hands are, like, tied right now. Hashtag literally! Wanna come up to Winston’s room and take advantage of me?”
***
At 8 AM Econ class, Jacky, Tai, Sarah, and Evelyn sat in the back of the massive lecture hall. While the professor rambled on about exponential growth, Jacky flipped through the binder of fake IDs.
“On the real, we’re not selling fake IDs,” Jacky declared, pulling out an one that favored the Latina teaching assistant. “We’re selling freedom, the way God always intended it.”
“Well put, Cali,” said Sarah. “Looks like you’ve dethroned Frank as the poet in our posse.”
“Whoa, let’s not get crazy,” Tai chuckled. “Unlike us peasants, Francisco is a Sicilian king.”
“If you love him so much, why don’t you just marry him, broseph,” Jacky snapped. Tai looked down like a shameful dog. Jacky held his grey-eyed stare like an Olympian. Finally, he burst out into laughter. “I’m just dogging you, scaredy-cat! Gotta keep you on your toes or this college junk will get stale.”
“College fucking sucks,” Evelyn chimed in, cranking the volume on her Mickey Avalon song. “It’s all a scam.”
The charismatic Jacky swiped an ID of a girl who looked like a preppy version of Evelyn. “Sounds like you need a new perspective, dudette. In college, you can be anybody you want to be. On the real, that’s why in the past 10 days, I’ve sold 25 IDs alone.”
Tai raised his eyebrows. “Twenty-fucking five? Not too shabby.”
“Oh, did I say 25? I meant that I sold 25 IDs to people in this room alone. Heck, the real total is somewhere around...200.”
Their jaws were on the floor. Jacky pulled out a roll of 100-dollar bills from his cargo shorts. He fanned the cash, then divvied a few bills to each of them.
“That’s 500 apiece each,” Jacky declared. “Just as a show of good faith that this operation won’t be a waste of our time.”
“Holy shit,” Sarah whispered, stuffing the money in her purse. “That’s almost enough goddamn cash for...half a textbook!”
“True that, but God’s last name is not damn,” Jacky hissed.
“Wait, how much money have you made so far?” Tai asked, reaching down and holding Jacky’s hand.
Plenty more,” Jacky whispered, inviting them to get close. “Look at all of God’s lost sheep in this room. Investing all this time and money to make this kind of money appear. Heck, we can do it much faster, dude and dudettes. We can take our operation straight to Beleavers.”
Jacky was referring to the Methodist youth group that met in the Chadwick Learning Center each Wednesday. Students of all faiths, colors, creeds, and M.O.’s were welcome - if only for the campus-renowned free popcorn.
“Ugh, organized religion is a farce,” Evelyn groaned, putting her headphones back in.
“Then you should have no problem taking their money,” Sarah said, yanking her earbud out.
“Exactamundo,” Jacky declared as the professor dismissed class. “Just picture all those students walking around with Mommy and Daddy’s tithe money. All we need to do is earn their business. Let’s get there early tonight and set up a vendor table. Sarah, Evelyn: we need a front. What can you sell?”
“I can sell my collection of human bones from my graveyard raids,” Evelyn offered casually.
They all stared at Evelyn in silence. “H-how about we make homemade bath bombs instead?” Sarah suggested casually.
“Perfect,” Jacky declared. “Tai and I will go to the dorm kitchen and whip up some baked goods. They’ll come for the snacks and leave with new identities.”
“Gravy,” Sarah said, flashing a peace sign. “Now, Evelyn and I have a rematch to settle.”
“Mario Kart?” Tai asked.
“Nah, grappling on the quad.” Sarah snatched Evelyn in a headlock and tickled her stomach. Evelyn burst out laughing, then tapped out. The two friends left the lecture hall.
“On the real, your hippie friend has a lot of nerve leading her on like that,” Jacky said, packing up his books.
“Eh, Sarah’s made it clear that she doesn’t like girls. Or...anybody for that matter.”
“Well, from one gay to another: Sarah’s full of horse crap.”
“Dude, they’re friends! And Evelyn’s not holding out for anything more.”
Jacky cocked his head as the last few students left the lecture hall. “What about us, Tai? Are we just friends?”
Tai leaned in to kiss him. Jacky kissed back harder, slipping his hand beneath Tai’s nylon shorts. Tai tossed his head back, pacing his breaths.
“Try to hold out as long as you can,” Jacky whispered, nibbling his neck. “I don’t want this to end…prematurely.”
“Hold out, huh?” Tai moaned between breaths. “Fuck...guess I gotta...uh, think about Evelyn the demon or something. That’s a turnoff...uh, am I right?”
“Seriously?” Jacky mumbled. “I’m trying to please you, and you’re gonna talk about another woman? Just stop talking.”
My boyfriend’s a hard nut to crack, Tai thought. Yes, it was true that Jacky had been a cocky, jealous, holier-than-thou douche during the whole class. He’s shallow. But God, his hand feels so good. So Tai let Jacky California finish. And afterward, Tai felt like the shallow one. For letting somebody kiss, caress, and fondle him when he knew for damn sure that they had nothing in common.
***
“And in conclusion,” said a female brunette. “That’s why multicultural cuisine is integral to improving the health of obese Americans in our nation. Thank you!”
“Delightful,” exclaimed Dr. Cartwright: Winston’s female Public Speaking professor. The student thanked her, then returned to her desk in the small Learning Center classroom. Today’s topic: Describe how multiculturalism has changed your life.
“Next up: Winston Beavers,” Dr. Cartwright announced. “Ah, quite a fitting last name, if I do say so myself.”
“Much obliged, ma’am.” Winston tipped his cowboy hat. “No one liked my last name until I became a student at South App.” He walked to the front of the classroom carrying two large foam boards.
“Oh! Somebody chose to use props, I see.”
“I was always a visual learner myself.” Winston set the foam boards up on tripods. “Ever since I was a little shit...um, I mean child, I always had a knack for pictures instead of words. I reckon ain’t much changed since then.”
“That’s very...insightful, Winston. Please begin whenever you’re ready.”
Two huge images were printed on the foam boards. One was a high-res photo of a revolver. The other was a simple stock photo of a 3-ring binder.
“Ladies and gents, when I enrolled last month, two precious items were stolen from me.” Winston pulled out a cigarette and pointed at each of the photos. “Exhibit A: my Colt Single Action Army revolver, gifted to me by my daddy. And Exhibit B: a top-secret binder, gifted to me by the fine folks from Beta Delta Epsilon.”
“Who’s got big dicks? We’ve got big dicks!” chanted a few BDE pledges in the back of the class.
“Don’t you forget it. Uh, anyway, I say all this to say: multiculturalism has impacted my life because it was statistically somebody of a certain race who stole these items from me.”
“Mister Beavers, I must stop you as this is highly inappropriate!” blurted out the professor’s teaching assistant.
“Let...let him continue,” Dr. Cartwright muttered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Mister Beavers, I do presume you have...dare I say, a valuable theme in your speech?”
“I humbly assure you, I do,” replied Winston tipping his cowboy hat. “I reckon you’re gonna wanna listen to what I’m fixin’ to say.”
***
Down at the other end of the Student Center, Gigi donned goggles and rubber gloves while she weighed silver nitrate powder on a scale.
“Everybody make sure that your scale is switched to grams!” cautioned Dr. Spivey: a wild white-haired mad scientist. “And before anybody asks: no, I will not help you cook meth in an RV! I will, however, give you a list of Asheville’s finest marijuana dealers...for a price.”
Gigi added the powder to a volumetric flask. Then, she unzipped her bookbag and grabbed a bottle of distilled water. She slowly poured the water into the flask, swirling the mixture around.
“Smart, smart, smart!” Dr. Spivey praised Gigi. “Why, I see somebody brought their own water. Now, I think I know why. But please humor me.”
“Gladly!” Gigi obliged, swirling the flask until the silver nitrate dissolved completely. “Well, Professor, I opted to access my personal inventory in hopes of bypassing a lengthy dihydrogen monoxide queue! Translation: look at that line!”
Sure enough, a long line of students stood with flasks in hand, waiting to use the tap of distilled water. Dr. Spivey flipped through his attendance roster. “Ah, you’re my pre-dental student: Ji-hye.” He pronounced it incorrectly as Gee-Hi.
“Oh, it’s actually pronounced Gee-Hey. But my real name’s caused so much...um, confusion that most people call me Gigi now.”
“I see. That’s quite unfortunate. Having to change your name all because of someone else.”
Before Gigi could respond, a frat boy called out to the professor. “Hey, Walter White! I’ll pay ya a hundred bucks for a list of all your dealers. Come on, bubba, that’s like half your salary!”
Dr. Spivey sighed and feigned annoyance. “Ah, these kids and their shrewd business exchanges. Guess I better entertain their shenanigans. Keep up the diligence, Ji-hye.” That time, he pronounced it correctly.
After Dr. Spivey left, a nerdy hipster girl tapped Gigi’s shoulder. “Hey, check this out.” The girl raised her cardigan sleeve to reveal a dark silver nitrate tattoo. Fuck Landsharks. It was the South App Beavers’ rival mascot.
“I...fully approve this message!”
“Here, try one on you before the professor gets back.” The girl handed Gigi a paintbrush.
“Neat!” Gigi replied as if accepting party pills for the first time. “But what to write?” She stared at her class schedule, where her name was also listed as “Ji-hye Moon.” Maybe...I should get used to using my real name again.
Gigi pulled up her hoodie sleeve and dipped the brush into the silver nitrate solution. Just then, the professor summoned everybody back to their desks for discussion. “Ji-hye, Ji-hye, Ji-hye,” she repeated, quickly painting a tattoo on the inside of her left hand.
Gigi rushed back to her desk. Dr. Spivey laughed at the class, his white hair sprawling in all directions. “Fools! I saw what you did. Now, let this be a lesson in commitment. Because silver nitrate tattoos take a week to fade. Now...who wants to show me theirs? Or shall I start calling names?”
Goosebumps rose on the back of Gigi’s neck. Not because her tattoo was semi-permanent, but because she was surely about to be the center of attention. But after a moment of tension, the professor simply dismissed class. Gigi bolted out the door. “So long, Ji-hye!” his voice echoed down the hall.
Shit, did he see my tattoo? Gigi picked up the pace, bumping into students who filed out of the Learning Center classrooms. Around the corner, she heard the grinding of coffee beans and frothing of whole milk. She would soon reach safety at Doppio Coffee Shop...
“Whaaa-oomph!” Gigi gasped, slipping on a banana peel. She landed flat on her back, sending her notebook and loose papers flying.
“Whoa, are you okay?” asked a short Indian guy as he rushed to Gigi’s aid. He helped her to her feet. “Yo, did you get that on video?” he asked another Indian, who ran up with a video camera. “Hey, Miss, it was just a social experiment! See, we’re from the South App Social Club. Hey, are you listening? It was just a prank, bro!”
A mentally-drained Gigi kneeled down to collect her supplies. It was only when Gigi reached down to collect her papers that she read the tattoo on her hand. And it did not read Ji-hye...
“WINSTON?!” her voice cracked.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” mumbled a young cowboy, hunched over a large caramel frappuccino. “Are ya that surprised to find me here?”
Winston was sitting at Doppio Coffee Shop. Gigi hurriedly pulled down her hoodie sleeves past her fingertips. She balled the draping sleeves over her fists, concealing the palms of her hands. Then, she walked over to Winston as if she didn’t look like a complete-
“You look like a complete dork!” Winston chuckled.
“Oh! I was...uh, cold,” Gigi lied. She held up her balled-up fists like a panda bear. “See, I made my own gloves!”
Winston snatched her right wrist, then placed it palm-down on the counter. He reached into his pocket for a dull, rusty Swiss Army Knife.
“So what we wanna do is make a quick little incision where the thumb is right here.” Winston cut a small hole in the sleeve. Carefully, he guided her thumb through the hole to create a mitten of sorts for her small hand.
“Now, let’s do your left hand.”
Gigi’s heart skipped a beat as he grabbed her tattooed left hand and lay her palm on the table. Don’t look at my tattoo, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!
“Ugh, damn blade’s straight-up fucked,” Winston scoffed. “Must’ve been that buck I skinned.”
“Eek! That’s so gross! Have you at least washed it?” Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!
Winston ignored her question. “Here, let me see your palm so I can-”
For the love of all that is sacred and holy, don’t look at it, don’t look at it, DON’T LOOK AT IT!
“I have to poop!” Gigi blurted out.
Winstons let go of Gigi’s hand. He and everybody else stared in disbelief. Of course, she was lying. It’s not even what she meant to say. But Gigi took that baton and ran a country mile. “Um...it appears that most sharp cheeses give me constipation. But ever since I ate all those mozzarella sticks, I have major runs!”
Gigi stood up, crossed her arms, and bowed. Then, she skittered off to the restroom - her secret safe in her left hand.
A preppy guy and girl walked up behind the dumbfounded Winston. “Yo, country boy needs to teach his lady friend some manners, am I right?” The guy looked around, trying to rally the cafe customers for support. “That’s one thing I hate about this liberal town. What a fuckin’ dyke.”
A storm brewed in Winston’s head. But he kept it bottled up inside. He chuckled instead, placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder. A pause. Suddenly, Winston yanked him into a headlock, holding the pocket knife to his crotch. His girlfriend shrieked like a mouse, while the young man raised his trembling hands.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” the guy yelled.“T-take it easy, man! I was just-”
“Now listen here, partner.” Winston applied pressure with his blade. “I’ve had my share of good days. Matter fact, they’ve been a dime a dozen. But I reckon I’ve had my share of bad days too. And this right here is one of them bad days.” Winston motioned at the paper next to his drink. “See that-there paper over there? That’s the speech I just gave in front of a crowd of SJWs. And you wanna know what the teacher gave me? D-fuckin’-minus.”
“I’m...s-s-sorry,” the preppy guy whimpered.
“Yeah, me too,” Winston grumbled, using his knife to flick off the button on the guy’s board shorts.
“Somebody, do something!” the guy’s air-headed girlfriend cried.
And on cue, a thin brown liquid ran down the preppy guy’s legs. It seeped into his white Champion socks and stained his off-brand boat shoes. The putrid smell hit the gasping, coughing patrons.
Satisfied, Winston shoved the guy into his girlfriend’s arms. “I reckon you best wash up, partner.” Whispers and murmurs in the crowd while the preppy boy limped toward the men’s bathroom. “Hol’ up. I reckon you best make your way to the female bathroom. Matter fact, all bathrooms are gender-neutral around these parts. And while you’re in there, you can apologize to that so-called dyke from earlier. Tell her Winston Motherfucking Beavers sent you.”
With anguish and defeat in his eyes, the lady entered the female bathroom. Satisfied, Winston gathered his things and decided that it was time to get the fuck out of there. But when he turned around to leave, a thunderous applause erupted behind him like an action movie explosion. Winston smiled mischievously. For the first time since he enrolled, he finally belonged.
Suddenly, Winston slipped on the banana feel and landed square on his elbow. “Oh, shit!” exclaimed the Indian student, running to his side. “Are you okay, man?”
***
Frank shivered on top of Claire as she dug her nails into his back. He lay there for a moment, his breath ragged. Then, he rolled off, breathing heavily on Winston’s top bunk. He slipped off the latex condom and tossed it into an empty cheese ball can on Winston’s bunk.
“Alas, thou hadst sucketh the chi from my body and-”
“Remember, like, no talking!” Claire reminded him condescendingly. She pulled the covers over her breasts, opened Instagram, and took a duck-face selfie.
“Ah, perhaps you didn’t get a chance to c-”
“Like, no.” Claire casually added a rabbit-ear filter and snapped a pic. “But that’s, like, totally okay...I guess.”
Frank transformed from Shakespeare to Sherlock, scanning Winston’s filthy bachelor bedspread for something. Anything. There were cigarette butts, saltine crumbs, half a stick of butter, Fun Dip packages with only the dip missing, a whole uneaten chicken wing, piss in a Sprite bottle, a Happy Meal box with a dead rat inside, three leaking D Batteries, and Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.
Finally, Frank grabbed a nearly-empty can of whipped cream. He yanked the covers off the naked Claire and sprayed a line from her collarbone to navel. Now, he had Claire’s full, undivided attention. She slowly looked down at the runny mess that pooled into her belly button. Then, she gave him the hungriest bedroom eyes Frank had ever seen.
“If you’re, like, going to play with your food, then you better totally clean up after yourself.”
Frank and Claire proceeded to do unthinkable things in that bed. And Winston’s top bunk held on by faith and faith alone. Finally, they collapsed next to one another. Two sweaty messes bathing in afterglow. Afterward, they snuck into the men’s shower where they agreed on two things. One: they were going to burn that mattress out of respect for Winston. And two: they were going to have sex at Beleavers that night.
***
“Look here, you little bitch!”
Evelyn grabbed the young, black cheerleader’s collar and pulled her across the table, showing her fangs.
“W-whoa!” the cheerleader stammered. “Chill out! I’m...sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
The girl panned from Evelyn to Sarah, Tai, and Jacky. “I’m...uh, sorry for asking you if you were selling tickets to a Marilyn Manson concert.”
“Apology accepted!” Sarah cheered on Evelyn’s behalf. She pointed at the assorted bath bombs for sale in the Learning Center Ballroom. “Everything you see here is between 10 and 15. If you have a sweet tooth, the fine gents to my right are selling yummy cookies and banana bread. Or…” Sarah pulled out the sacred BDE binder and placed it on the table. “Between you and me, we’re selling fake IDs.”
“Yeah!” Tai said. “There’s a few young ladies in there who have a mocha complexion almost as rich as yours!”
Jacky elbowed Tai in the ribs. Tai sucked in a breath, while his boyfriend acted as nothing had just happened. My boyfriend is jealous over fuckin’ everything.
The cheerleader looked over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. Then, she flipped through the pages as if she was dress shopping. “They contain the new state watermark and everything!” Sarah informed her customer. “We accept only cash at the moment. They cost-”
“A hundred, dudette,” Jacky interjected. Sarah gave him a worrisome side-eye at the exorbitant price. But as expected, the rich cheerleader pulled out the bills and handed them over.
“Oh, that makeup actually makes your eyes pop - no cap,” the cheerleader told Evelyn, before disappearing into the Beleavers crowd with her fake ID.
“Mission accomplished!” Jacky cheered. They had managed to pull off just over 100 sales: 7500 bucks split four ways. Now, it was time to close up shop for the night. Soon, the Christian rock band would take the stage to celebrate God in a room full of students with brand new identities.
“Come on, Tai,” Jacky said, smiling warmly. “Let’s grab some popcorn. I have somebody I want you to meet.”
Tai waved at the girls as they watched them leave.
“I...really don’t know what to make of Jacky,” Sarah admitted. “A few weeks ago, I tracked him down across campus because I thought he was smoking hot. I mean, he still is. But still…”
“He’s a fucking fake,” Evelyn fumed. “That holier-than-thou douchelord can sit on a tack.”
“Whoa, sounds like you need to relieve some stress,” Sarah chuckled, punching Evelyn’s arm. “Why don’t we head to the quad and settle our tie-breaker?”
At that, Sarah and Evelyn left for one last grappling match to end them all.
***
Winston and Gigi approached the Ballroom entrance, where thumping Christian rock rattled the door.
“So...are you a Christian or are you here for the popcorn?” Winston asked.
“A little bird told me that it is pretty tasty!” Gigi admitted sheepishly.
“And I reckon that little bird was Frankie?”
“Yes, actually! He’s supposed to meet me here. But...I haven’t heard from him in a few hours.”
“Ah. Same with Claire.”
Just like last week’s restaurant date, Gigi and Winston had been once again ghosted by their lovers. It had become a running meme at this point.
“M-maybe their bus is running late?” Gigi suggested, failing to convince even herself.
“Hey, while we’re meddlin’ in conspiracy theories, I’ve got one too. See, Frankie likes to cook. And I’mma bet he’s with Claire, baking her a fresh, homemade cream-”
Gigi clamped her hand over Winston’s mouth. Gigi’s pupils said it all. So he opted to lay off the jokes. Neither either of them really believed their lovers were sneaking around with each other.
Winston opened the ballroom door and promptly caught an elbow to the temple.
“Oomph!” Winston groaned. Gigi slouched against the wall for safety. The scene was no Sunday morning gospel band. This was a Christian hardcore band. And they had just walked into a mosh pit.
“W-Winston!” Gigi yelled over the screamo vocals. But among the flurry of flailing super-Christians, Winston had vanished. Gigi bent her knees and jumped as high as she could, searching for his cowboy hat in the crowd. Suddenly, a punk-rock girl came up from behind and lifted her into the air.
“She’s tryin’ to go surfing!” the girl yelled, heaving her into the crowd like a FedEx package. Gigi gasped before landing into a sea of open hands. This “wave” slowly guided her through the spazzing strobe lights and fog.
Suddenly, an anonymous hand grazed her breast, then very deliberately squeezed it. “W-whaaa!?” Gigi pulled her knee to her stomach, then kicked the culprit square in the face.
“You bitch!” the fondler yelled psychotically, cupping a hand over his bleeding nose. “Throw this fucking slut overboard!” And, in unison, the moshers raised and lowered her body in their hands. “One, two, three!”
Gigi flew into the air - falling, falling, falling until she crashed into a table of baked goods and bath bombs. Winded, she slipped behind the tablecloth and curled up under the table. The mob raged outside.
“Animals,” Gigi whispered, rubbing her sore breast. Alone in the dark under that table, she wanted to cry. She could only imagine what Winston would have done if she caught that pervert red-handed. Maybe I should have let him keep his gun.
Gigi turned on her phone’s flashlight and looked around. Under the table were several cardboard boxes. One, in particular, was labeled Sarah’s Box O’Fun. Gigi recognized it immediately. On move-in day, she’d watched Sarah unpack a huge bong from that very box. Then, Sarah had dared a drunk Winston to drink the bong water. He did. (“Gigi, meet my brother.”)
This is...Sarah’s table? She’s here at Beleavers tonight? Feeling gutsy, she sifted through the box. On top of the mountain of bath bombs and baked goods, the B.D.E. binder sat there in all its glory. She flipped through pages upon pages of fake IDs. On a scratch sheet of notebook paper: a tally of sales for Sarah, Evelyn, Tai, and Claire. But no Winston. And slowly, her busy brain started to connect the dots.
“Holy balls,” she whispered, snapping the stolen binder shut. She thought about taking it right then and there and returning it to its bearded beast of an owner. But another thought crossed her mind.
I could leave it here and blackmail them for money, Gigi thought. All I have to do is threaten to tell Winston! The decision was set in stone. She left the binder behind and slipped out from under the table. But not before stealing a baseball-sized charcoal bath bomb.
***
In the popcorn line, safe from the mosh pit, Jacky stood in front of Tai with his back turned. The blonde-haired surfer had been rambling excitedly with an Asian guy for five minutes now. And not once had Jacky thought to introduce him.
“Oh, Tai Maple!” Jacky finally remembered, turning to face him. “This is my friend: Benji. Benji, meet Tai.”
This freckle-faced Asian guy gave a slight bow. Tai immediately knew who he was. In fact, Gigi had given him the full scoop while she and Tai had shared her very first cheese pizza. It had all begun on the day where the freshmen tracked down Jacky in his mail truck. Jacky had mistaken the cross-dressing Gigi with the Benji who now stood before him.
And this Benji was allegedly Jacky’s secret long-time crush.
“Benji, would you please grab us a popcorn?” Jacky asked politely, stepping out of the line. “I need to talk to my friend here...alone.”
“Friend,” Tai echoed, following Jacky like a lost puppy.
“Tai, this is just as hard for me, brother,” Jacky frowned, more condescending than empathetic.
“The hell it is!” Tai blew up, drowned out by the hardcore band. “You had your hand in my pants just a few hours ago! Were you fucking planning on leaving me this whole time? For him?!”
“Tai, listen man. Look, I know everything. When you showed up at the coffee shop, I knew you’d been spying on me long before you met me. I first thought our meeting was a...beautiful coincidence. But all along, you were pulling the wool over my eyes. But that’s okay, brochacho! Because I gave you a chance anyway. See, I wanted to save you from what you are! You’re a liar, bro. But in God’s eyes, we all-”
“I let you take my goddamn virginity!” Tai exploded over the music, his jaw twitching uncontrollably.
A pitiful look from Jacky. “I see. That does complicate things a bit, on the real. Look, you can have a quarter of my earnings from tonight’s sales. And I promise to pray for you every night before-”
“Fuck you and fuck your God! I hope you die in your fucking sleep! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!”
Tai turned around and walked confidently out of the ballroom, holding his head up high while vertigo weighed it down. But nobody stopped him. And not once did he look back.
***
Winston limped down the Learning Center hallway with a pounding headache. He struggled to keep his twitching, swollen eye open while passing the empty classrooms. Where he was going, not even he knew. He just had to get far away from that mosh pit.
“Calm, child! You’re quite a fool to be walking around with a concussion!”
Winston turned around. Through his good eye, he saw a large, middle-aged Haitian woman in an African floral dress and headwrap. She held a bible in her large, smooth hands.
“Join us, child,” the woman beckoned, pointing into a classroom of Haitian students in chairs.
Winston smiled weakly, thinking back to his controversial speech from class that morning. “I mighty appreciate it, ma’am. But I reckon I ain’t much worthy.” He turned to walk away, but accidentally stumbled like a drunkard into the woman’s arms.
“Soft, my child,” she soothed him, ushering him into the room of students. “Not one of us is worthy. But there is good news.”
A half-hour later, Winston was sitting in the front row of the Haitian Student Ministry with a bag of frozen peas pressed to his swollen eye. The matriarch, Nadia, was delivering a passionate Psalm 107 sermon to her students.
“Let the one who is wise heed these things,” Nadia read. “And ponder the loving deeds of the Lord. Amen. Now, to conclude, I’d like to introduce our guest: Winston from Beleavers. Please, child, tell us about yourself.”
The young men on either side of Winston gave him a back pat. Winston slowly stood up and tipped his cowboy hat. In his mind, it was his Public Speaking 101 all over again. But in class, he hadn’t been standing in front of all-black students. Like he was now.
“Well, like I told Nurse Nadia earlier. I don’t feel like I’m worthy among y’all fine folks here. I mighty appreciate Nadia for patching me up. And for y’all’s hospitality.”
Winston headed for the door, but Nadia blocked the exit. “Please, child. Do your sins trouble you? May it ease your soul to know that there are redeemed people in this very room who have committed acts of credit card fraud, gang violence, and even beastiality?”
Winston blinked.
But somehow, Nadia’s words did not repel these people away. They brought them closer. So Winston opened his mouth and confessed what had been brewing in his mind all day.
“Well, uh...today in speech class, I said the N-word. I didn’t mean to be ugly when I said it. Only said it to take power away from it. But I reckon I really hurt a couple of people in that class. The only reason the teacher didn’t ban me from the class was ‘cause she wanted me to learn a lesson this year. And I’m tryin’, Nadia. I’m...tryin’ real hard.”
The students didn’t come forward to comfort Winston, who now choked on tears. But they didn’t back away either. It was only when Nadia lay a hand on him that the other students followed suit.
“It sounds like you have a lot to think on,” Nadia said warmly, as layers of hands covered him. “I wish you luck on your journey. We will always be here whenever Beleavers get a little too...rowdy.”
Nadia and the students led a closing prayer for Winston. He smiled as a rush of dopamine reached the brain. The tears flowed freely, even as he used the bag of frozen peas to dab his face.
“Amen,” Nadia concluded. Everybody left Winston’s side and began stacking chairs.
“Wait,” Winston said, returning to his confident southern drawl. “Let me take care of them-there chairs. It’s...the least this poor white boy can do.”
And so, Winston began folding chairs alone while the others left. And like Jesus on the Via Dolorosa, he began carrying ten chairs down the long hallway toward the supply closet. And like all other men, Winston was hell-bent on making only one trip.
“Winston!” Gigi blurted out as he turned a corner. With his hands full, his black eye had nowhere to hide. Gigi dropped her jaw. Then, her mouth formed a pitiful frown. She kissed her tattoo-free hand and gently pressed her fingertips on Winston’s eyelid.
“One more time,” Winston suggested with a grin.
Gigi hesitantly kissed her hand, then reached for Winston’s eyelid again. Suddenly, Winston playfully bit her hand. “Eek!” Gigi quickly brought her hand to her chest.
“You’re a good woman, Gigi,” Winston chuckled, reflecting on his own moral character. Both of their faces flushed red. He shook his head, arms trembling from the weight they carried. “Look, I gotta put these chairs up. Walk with me.”
Gigi carried four of the chairs. And even then, she lagged behind Winston. “So, what’s the word on Frankie? You find him in that-there mob?”
Gigi shook her head, her long black hair whipping back and forth. “Nope! And Claire?”
“Shit,” Winston said, emotionally detached. “Honestly, I don’t expect to see her ever again.”
“Hmmm...so why don’t they love us anymore?”
“Beats me,” said Winston, as they set their chairs down at the closet door. “But if I was a betting man, I’d wager it’s because you and I seem to be attached at the hip these days.”
“Do you think they don’t trust us together? I mean, as friends?”
“Should they?”
Gigi opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, they quickly reached for the doorknob at the same time. A moment passed, and they did not move their hands. Slowly, her earthy brown eyes met his icy blue ones. Gigi’s tattoo was on fire.
Together, they turned the doorknob. And lo and behold: it was Frank and Claire.
Frank’s pants were around his ankles - all eight inches of uncut glory on full display. Claire was on her knees, snorting an eight-inch line of red-and-white cocaine from root to tip. As soon as they were spotted, Claire frantically wiped her nose while Frank shuffled to button his pants.
“W-w-woe is me!” Frank moaned in despair. “It doth appear that our feline hath escaped its rucksack!”
“Like, no fucking shit, Sherlock!” Claire snapped, brushing the cocaine off her shirt. “Do you ever, like, shut the fuck up? Like, look Winston and Gigi! I promise this is, like, not what it looks like. It was just, like, like, like, like, like-”
Winston and Gigi slowly stared at each other - sly grins on their faces.
“Um...are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Gigi asked Winston cheerfully.
“I sure the hell am, buddy,” Winston answered. They each grabbed a folding chair and approached the pair of adulterers.
***
A short while later, at dusk, Winston and Gigi sat on the curb of the Chadwick Hughes Learning Center - handcuffed. A fresh-faced, fat officer stood with his arms crossed, staring at the excited pair of criminals.
“So, you mean to tell me you…stabbed this chick with a chair?” the officer asked, dumbfounded.
“Yep!” Gigi piped up, a wide smile plastered on her face. “I managed to wield my melee weapon like a medieval knight, riding with the north winds until that raging thundercunt landed on her assless keister!”
“That was fuckin’ awesome,” Winston said, giving her an elbow bump. “But not as awesome as me crackin’ Frankie’s skull.”
The cop knitted his brows, taking extensive notes. “Alrighty then. Anything else y’all wanna add?”
Gigi and Winston grinned at each other, adrenaline fueling their veins. They had truly saved the best for last.
“Then, I took out my phone,” Winston started. “And I showed them a pic of-”
“He flashed them a pic of him taking my virginity!” Gigi finished proudly. But it was a lie. No, Winston had instead shown the cheaters the photo of Gigi eating cheese for the first time with Winston. And despite being attacked with a chair, that photo had shocked Frank more than anything.
Cop 2 walked over to Cop 1 and whispered something into his ear. Cop 1 nodded and pointed at Jacky and Claire. The pair looked tired and traumatized, and were hugging and consoling each other next to another cop car.
“Y’all got off lucky this time,” Cop 2 jeered. “They ain’t gonna press charges. You must have some deep dirt on ‘em or something.”
He wasn’t wrong. That red-and-white cocaine was Ryan’s signature product. The BDE fraternity circulated that cocaine more widely than Jacky and his fake IDs. And it was a much larger, lucrative operation. In Winston’s eyes, Claire didn’t want to risk Winston snitching in retaliation for being thrown in jail.
“Ladies first,” said Cop 1, helping Gigi off the curb to her feet. He spun her around and unlocked her handcuffs. “What kinda ink job is that?” the cop muttered, reading the silver nitrate tattoo on Gigi’s palm. “Winston...wait a sec. Hey, that’s your name, right?”
Winston cocked his head at the cop’s question. Gigi’s knees trembled as she let out a nervous chuckle. It surely wasn’t the craziest thing to happen that day. But goddamn, would it be hard to explain.
“Gigi, what the hell?” Winston muttered with a blank expression.
“Call me Ji-hye!” Gigi blurted out proudly. Winston shook his head with a smile as he watched her disappear into the Asheville night.
submitted by welcometosouthapp to welcometosouthapp [link] [comments]


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https://preview.redd.it/li8lwzj076j51.jpg?width=205&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b11004b46f6a6801bfae8230b42e8223f67291dd
submitted by MansA24Augl to u/MansA24Augl [link] [comments]


2020.08.07 21:45 AnastasiaBeavrhausn The disappearance and murder of Hailey Dunn Part 2 .

Part 1 https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/i1fpnx/the_disappearance_and_murder_of_hailey_dunn/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf
Please keep in mind that Hailey’s mother, Billie Jean Dunn, Billie’s boyfriend, Shawn Adkins, and her father, Clint Dunn have made conflicting statements over the years. As time has gone on, many mainstream media outlets' links are no longer available. I've provided links to the forums that discussed the articles.
I was contacted by a former neighbor who gave me a good idea of what the neighborhood was like at that time. Colorado City was a small town of approximately 4K people. Hailey lived across the street from section 8 housing. All the kids played together and for the most part got along. There was enough distance between the houses that loud parties won't be noticed. It was normal for several cars to be at any home at any time. This generous person said it was the perfect storm for a lifestyle like that to happen. The cops were incompetent or indifferent to what was going on around them. Colorado City was described to me as a place where scared or failed cops went. Good cops moved on to greener pastures.
Although I said Clint lived across the street in part 1, I've learned that to get to Clint’s house, Hailey had to cross the street and cross a field to get to his house. Now it makes sense why to be used binoculars to watch people arrive at the New Year's Eve party. He said he was waiting to see if Hailey came home.
There are several timelines available, I used the one confirmed by law enforcement.
Hailey Darlene Dunn was 13 when she was reported missing on December 28, 2010.
Investigation:
LE initially described Hailey as a runaway, but were investigating the circumstances surrounding what happened that Sunday night to Monday when she was last seen.
LE was familiar with Billie and Shawn due to their both calling 911 on the other. If you listen to the True Crime Daily at time stamp 4:20, you can hear LE’s reaction to their calls.
https://youtu.be/Tf5yOgtf5gI
https://youtu.be/u9vtluURP58
LE issued warrants for Hailey’s mother, Billie Jean Dunn, and her boyfriend, Shawn Adkins’s cell phones. The warrants were for any data from December 25, 2010, to January 7, 2011.
There were 3 potential sightings of Hailey the day she went missing December 28, 2010. The links are no longer active, so I linked to other forums where they were discussed.
A neighbor said he saw Hailey in the backyard talking on the phone. The owner of the home said that he can not be trusted and he had to kick him out.
The second was a hairdresser who knew Hailey for many years. She said she saw Hailey, her friend, and a boy she didn't know walking by her shop that day.
The third I was unable to locate.
In the affidavit LE says:
”There are NO witnesses who saw HD walking on the date she is believed to have left her residence.”
https://youtu.be/jvZikX3XOeo
Investigators believed the witnesses were wrong about the day they saw Hailey based on conversations with friends. The same friend Hailey allegedly made plans to spend the night said she did not see Hailey the day she went missing and no plans were made to spend the night.
Investigators found a text sent to same friend at approximately 2:00 pm on December 28, 2010, the day she went missing saying ”wrud” (what are you doing ). The friend and her mother denied receiving the text.
While Hailey’s family, teachers, and friends described her as smart, loving, fun, blunt, caring, and outspoken, Shawn Adkins described Hailey as ”promiscuous” and ” uses drugs”.
The Laura Recovery Center, Marc Klaas from The KlaasKids Foundation, and Carrie McGonigal from Team Amber Rescue arrived to help with the search for Hailey.
Over time, Marc Klaas said in an interview that Billie should be ashamed of herself for telling lies to law enforcement. His team packed up and left. Carrie McGonigal and her team remain supporting Billie to this day. You may be familiar with Carrie, she's Amber DuBois's mother. When Amber disappeared, LE focused on Carrie’s boyfriend because the day Amber went missing, his day was out of the ordinary. Carrie left her boyfriend, taking their child because she was convinced by the authorities that he was involved. It was after the murder of Chelsea King by John Gardner when he confessed to killing Amber and Chelsea that Carrie and her boyfriend reconciled and later got married.
Hailey’s mother, Billie also had a private investigator working pro bono. He left after a month and refused to give a reason why.
Law enforcement had searched two garbage landfills and various sightings of Hailey. There was no evidence of her at any tipped location.
Law enforcement found discrepancies in Shawn Adkins's statements. He said he went to work, was fired, then he drove to his mother’s house. His cell phone pinged his route from Colorado City, to his job in Snyder, to Colorado City, then to his grandmother's house, then to his mother’s house and back to Colorado City. From 7:00 am until 9:00 am, there were no pings at all. When asked to explain the discrepancies, Shawn said that he went to his job and quit, stopped by home no one was there so he went to his grandmother’s house, again no one was home, then to his mom’s house. This is disputed by his supervisor who saw him. He said he and Shawn made eye contact, Shawn bought a soda, and left. He said Shawn never said a word to him.
I read within the week Hailey went missing, Billie and Shawn painted the living room and gave away their sofa. The MSM reports are no longer available, but I linked where they are discussed.
It was also reported, allegedly Hailey and Billie had a ”fight” on December 27, 2010, about Hailey wanting to live with her father, Clint. Billie said it wasn't really a fight, just something moms and teens do.
On February 24, 2010, LE announced they found over 100,000 images of child pornography, beastiality and other deviant images on a computer at Shawn Adkins’s mother’s house, and a USB found at Billie's house. No charges have been filed for anyone regarding these images. Law enforcement also found that Shawn had been communicating with other women and receiving nude pictures the day Hailey went missing.
On March 17, 2011, when LE knocked on Billie’s door, she denied that her boyfriend, Shawn Adkins was there. LE entered the home and found Shawn on the premises. Apparently, he was hiding in a closet. LE arrested Billie for lying to an officer serving a warrant. This arrest is the only one in the Hailey Dunn murder.
On March 16, 2013, Hailey’s remains were found by a man who was arrowhead hunting. Law enforcement only found her skull, a single tooth, a femur, and her sweatpants she was reported wearing the day she disappeared.
2013 is the last time LE spoke publically about the Hailey Dunn case. MSM stopped talking about her murder and everyone but Hailey’s father, Clint who is very active on social media, has stopped talking too. Clint has a private investigator who runs the Who Killed Hailey Dunn sites.
In 2013, a federal prisoner named Sonja Rene Callahan sent a letter to her sister claiming she witnessed a teen being drugged in a mobile home in Odessa in January 2011. She alleges the teen died and was buried. She did not mention the teen by name. Billie said the FBI told her the letter is not credible.
There was also a rumor I couldn't source that alleges Shawn took Hailey to the hotel and traded her for a drug debt. There is no credible evidence that happened as far as I can find. Other than the dog tracking her scent to the hotel, there's no confirmation of this rumor.
Where are they today:
Hailey had a memorial and her remains were later buried by family.
Her mother, Billie, is a nurse. She got her license back with stipulations. She is occasionally active on the Hope For Hailey Facebook page.
Clint Dunn, her father, and his PI are very active on the social media on The Who Killed Hailey Dunn sites.
After Hailey went missing, David Dunn, her brother, spoke to LE, but didn’t speak publicly. He was removed from the home by CPS and stayed with a family member. He later returned home. I think he deserves his privacy and didn’t attempt to locate him now.
Shawn Adkins is allegedly harassing women on the internet. He said that he had nothing to do with Hailey’s murder and the affidavits are lies. I haven’t found any current statements from him.
https://youtu.be/Xgd0gEfecZw
The house where Hailey lived has been demolished. Any clues it may have held are gone.
Discussion points:
Who killed Hailey Dunn?
Is it possible after a decade and no direct physical evidence to get a conviction?
What do you think of the inmate letter?
http://archive.gosanangelo.com/Services/include.ashx?domain=www.gosanangelo.com&file=missing-teens-brother-staying-with-relative-ep-440059273-356982311.html
https://www.websleuths.com/forums/threads/tx-hailey-dunn-13-colorado-city-27-dec-2010-25.125425/
https://www.oaoa.com/news/crime_justice/law_enforcement/mother-of-hailey-dunn-disputes-lettearticle_0d3eb4be-1f02-11e2-86b5-0019bb30f31a.html
https://www.websleuths.com/forums/threads/remains-found-in-big-spring-2-strong-speculation-this-may-be-hailey.166461/page-7
https://www.deseret.com/2011/3/18/20179848/texas-teen-s-mom-charged-boyfriend-searched
https://www.websleuths.com/forums/threads/what-about-the-fight-between-hailey-and-her-mom.166475/
http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/1102/25/ng.01.html
https://www.blogtalkradio.com/bringthemhomenow/2011/03/03/bring-them-home-now--exclusive-billy-dunn-speaks-out-maybe-for-the-last-time
https://victimsheartland.forumotion.com/t5209p500-8-hailey-dunn-missing-in-colorado-city-tx-for-three-years-update-04-26-13sources-scurry-county-remains-identified-as-hailey-dunn
https://haileydunnresource.wordpress.com/
https://www.reporternews.com/story/news/2019/12/27/father-clint-dunn-seeks-answers-death-hailey-dunn-colorado-city-texas-2010-cold-case/2752190001/
https://ktxs.com/archive/why-no-arrests-after-child-porn-was-found-in-dunn-residence-authorities-respond
Edit: words
submitted by AnastasiaBeavrhausn to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2020.07.31 23:13 AnastasiaBeavrhausn The disappearance and murder of Hailey Dunn.

I’m surprised this case hasn’t been covered here in a very long time.
Hailey Darlene Dunn was born to Clint and Billie Jean Dunn on August 28, 1997. Clint and Billie were divorced, but Clint lived across the street in Colorado City, TX. Hailey and her older brother, David, lived with Billie, and her boyfriend, Shawn Adkins, but could see their father daily.
Hailey played volleyball, softball, basketball, was a cheerleader, and played first chair saxophone in school band. Her grades were good and she was popular in school.
Hailey was 13 years old when she was reported missing on 12/28/10.
Hailey had spent part of Christmas with Billie and most of the day and overnight at her father's house.
Disappearance:
At 9 pm on 12/26, as David was leaving to spend the night at a friend's, he sees Hailey playing video games. Billie reports seeing her at 10 pm. Based on her skill level, it’s estimated that she played video games until midnight.
On 12/27 at 5:30 am, Shawn Adkins leaves for work. At 6:30 am, Billie checks on a sleeping Hailey; leaves her cell phone for the kids to use, and leaves for work.
Shawn later tells Billie that Hailey left around 3 pm saying she was going to visit with her dad and then go to a sleepover at a friend's house. He also tells her he was fired from his job.
That night Billie and Shawn take out two separate withdrawals amounting to $140. They later admitted to police that they used the money to purchase drugs.
December 28, 2010, Hailey doesn't come home from her sleepover. Billie calls Clint and the friend only to discover that they hadn't seen Hailey and hadn't made plans to. At 2:00 pm, Billie reports Hailey missing.
Initially, the police viewed Hailey as a runaway. It wasn't until 1/3/11 that she was officially a missing person.
12/29, law enforcement search the homes of Bille and Clint Dunn.
On 12/31, bloodhounds track Hailey from Billie’s house to Clint’s house to the friend's house to a motel. There was no evidence of Hailey being at the motel.
That evening, Billie and Shawn had friends over for food, drinks, music, and to watch the ball drop. Later Billie would say that it ”most definitely was not an NYE party”. Interestingly enough, Clint was watching the party through binoculars and was getting angry.
There were searches for Hailey by law enforcement and the community. Billie, Shawn, and Clint did not participate in any of the searches. Billie said she was taking care of flyers, social media, and speaking to the press and Clint said he was searching dumpsters, alleys, and streets. Shawn did nothing.
In early January, the Texas Rangers and the FBI get involved. Klaas Kids and ”Hailey’s Angels ” a name given to the local searchers, scour the immediate area for Hailey. They admit that the amount of ground they have to cover is overwhelming. Billboards go up to raise awareness. There were hundreds of people searching for Hailey. There was a candlelight vigil with over 750 people in attendance. Nancy Grace takes the case national.
On 1/6, Billie admits that she and Shawn failed the polygraph concerning Hailey’s whereabouts. It turns out that Billie had failed her first polygraph because she was under the influence and the second one showed deception.
Shawn failed 2 polygraphs and walked out during the 3rd. During questioning, Shawn said that Hailey could be found in Scurry County and when asked by LE who they should look at, he responded ”both of us”.
Billie and Shawn always had a rocky relationship, but Billie starts suspecting Shawn had something to do with Hailey’s disappearance and asks him to leave.
On 1/12, Shawn is officially named a person of interest. According to the affidavit, Shawn had threatened the life of Billie and Hailey and that they found pages and pages of printed info on serial killers.
A later affidavit included a lot more information. According to David, on the day Hailey went missing, he came home and banged on the door for 5 minutes. When he went in through the window, he saw Shawn in the hallway with ”a deer in the headlights look”.
It further stated that Shawn had lied about his job and his whereabouts on that day. He said he was fired, he actually quit his job. He went in to quit, turn in overalls, bought a Dr. Pepper, and left. He said he went to his mother's house, but his phone pings said he was in Colorado City, to work, back home in Colorado City, then to where his mother lived in Scurry County. Those pesky phone pings.
Over 109,000 images of child pornography, beastiality, and other pornographic images were found on electronics used by Shawn Adkins at home and his mother's house.
In March, Billie admits she lied to police about Shawn’s whereabouts when they were trying to serve him a warrant. She has been the only person who received any charges in relation to this case. She received a year probation and she and Shawn moved to Austin, Texas.
In March 2013, human remains were found by Lake J.B. Thomas, approximately 2 miles from Shawn Adkins’ mother. Those remains were Hailey Darlene Dunn.
Over 350 people attended her funeral and celebration of life that May.
No one has been charged with the disappearance and murder of Hailey.
http://victimsnewsonline.com/cold-cases/hailey-dunn-case-you-want-motive-heres-motive/
https://www.kcbd.com/story/17215386/timeline-of-events-after-hailey-dunns-disappearance
https://abcnews.go.com/US/hailey-dunn-missing-remains-found-prime-suspects-home/story?id=15967361
https://abcnews.go.com/US/shawn-adkins-named-person-interst-case-missing-texas/story?id=12608537
https://globaljusticeseekers.wordpress.com/2013/05/31/hailey-dunn-the-timeline/
https://podtail.com/da/podcast/gone-cold-podcast-texas-true-crime/the-tragic-disappearance-murder-of-hailey-dunn/
Discussion points:
Who do you think murdered Hailey and why? Did they do it alone or with help?
Do you think Hailey will ever get justice and what will it take?
So much has happened since her disappearance, I'm thinking of writing a part 2.
Edit: added sentence for clarity. Corrected name for continuity.
Edit; corrected date remains were found.
I'm definitely writing a part 2 on the investigation.
Edit: part 2.
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/i5kn2b/the_disappearance_and_murder_of_hailey_dunn_part_2/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf
submitted by AnastasiaBeavrhausn to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2020.05.28 23:09 Darthnev My (F, 21) boyfriend (M, 22) told me he masturbates to other girls instagram photos.

TL;DR My(F, 21) boyfriend (M, 22) of two and a half years, who has a history of porn addiction messaged me and told me he masturbates to other girls (whom we both know) and joins sex chatrooms and I am confused as to what I should do.
-------------------------
Sorry if this is too long but I thought I needed to provide all the details. My boyfriend (M,22) and I (F,21) have been dating for two and a half years now. In the beginning of our relationship he did tell me that he was a porn addict. Especially during his gap year before he joined college, he used to watch a lot. He had told me a bit of the details of his porn addiction- that he used to masturbate 11 times a day and he used to go to MNFClub and those chatrooms. But since then, he has tried to reduce it because he realized how harmful porn was. so with the help of reddit, no fap, npmo, he reduced it by a LOT. like maybe watching porn or reading a sexstory a few times a week and fapping maybe 3 times a day on weekends. He says he edges sometimes.
At the beginning of our relationship when he confided in me of his porn addiction and that he has reduced it, I told him that sometimes a little porn is not that harmful but chatrooms for meeting others is like cheating because it is done with another person in real time. After that during the course of our relationship at times he would relapse. A lot of the times he would tell me that he is feeling low because he relapsed ie watched porn and fapped.
About our sex life, we both sext, send nudes to each other, and phone sex frequently, and we had started this maybe two or three months after we started dating.
Now, today, he messaged me saying that he "doesnt tell me the details of his porn addiction and relapses properly because he thinks I will get discusted of him. He has done things that is weird and gross too. Sometimes he feels like he has cheated on me doing that. He doesnt feel like he is the person he is . He has even been female in chatroom stuff. and for the past two days he has been spiralling down. He has been back to those chatrooms (not MNF ones). he feels very guilty." He also said he "has looked at porn while we were in a relationship, looked at other girls, fitness models, etc while we were in a relationship and fapped. He doesnt know if he should be with me because he feels that I do not deserve this. he said that "He has said that he respects me more than he loves me but he disrespected me and all my love and care for him." He said that he "thinks about our breakup a lot and thinks of himself being miserable and today seeing that movie (The Way Back,2020) , that guy was him, how he saw himself grown up, he doesnt want to be that."
Further he messaged me saying "I should leave him, He doesnt deserve a relationship, not like how he is, he feels he in mentally sick." then he said that he "doesnt know what he feels for me in a romantic way. I am his friend, thats true but where is the love thing, he doesnt know." He said he has fapped to instagram pictures of people known and uknown and has seen transporn and beastiality.
To all this I first told him that I am very disappointed in him. I asked him to tell me who the girls are that he has fapped to and he said that they are girls from our college whom we both know. I was very disturbed by this particular thing. I asked him thrice to tell me the names of them but he said if he tells me then we cant be together.
I asked him how long has this being going on, he said it has been happening since the beginning of our relationship and occurs every few weeks or months.
He told me this, "Do I love you, I have been thinking about it a lot recently, I trust you very much, more than anyone else and I like being with you but I hide tings from you and lie also. I dont think that I love you because I dont be honest."
I dont know what to make of this. These two and a half years I have had only him on whom I could rely the most. We both are dating in secret from our families because of the Indian culture and I had to move away from my family for college and live with my relatives. But after meeting him, adjusting to this new place and surviving was possible because I knew I had someone who understood me and listened to me.
Now I am so confused as to what to do because I have invested a lot into this relationship and with his history of porn addiction I dont know whether breaking up would be the right thing or giving him another chance.
submitted by Darthnev to relationships [link] [comments]


2020.05.28 13:54 Papi_83 Am I being oversensitive for getting wildly uncomfortable with lolicon, shotacon, and toddlercon, even though it's not harming actual children?

Poor grammar.
When I say wildly uncomfortable, I'm not exaggerating. Ephebophilia, hebephilia, pedophilia, nepiophilia, child porn, M.A.P.s, grooming, rape, sex offenders, necrophilia, beastiality, incest or anything similar like that is a very sensitive topic to me. Whenever I hear about it, I feel very upset or distraught .
I couldn't be happy with the Garden of Words movie because the 15 year old boy was having romantic tensions with his 27 year old teacher. I know that the movie was praised, it had beautiful animation, it's fiction, and the boy was mature for his age. But I still feel uncomfortable with the fact that people are shipping those two together. Japan's age of consent is not actually 13. I felt the same with Fruits Basket. The mc's mom was 13/14 when she fell in love with her teacher.
Anyways, lolicon is when a cartoon little girl is sexualized. Often in porn. The term was originated from the story Lolita, which is about a middle age man dating a 12 year old girl.
Shotacon is just lolicon but little boys.
Toddlercon is when cartoon toddlers or infants are sexualized or in porn.
Cartoon child porn is banned in some countries like the U. K.
Cartoon child porn, cartoon adult x minor romances, or anyone that defends it makes me sooo uncomfortable because it has all of those things that I said that makes me uncomfortable
But the kids in them aren't real. It can't harm any children. It can be a substitute of child porn for pedophiles. That's why I feel like I'm being over dramatic for finding it repulsive.
I've found some actual literal pedophiles that were into these stuff. Especially in the map (minor attracted person) community. Could be just a coincidence.
submitted by Papi_83 to TooAfraidToAsk [link] [comments]


2020.05.10 06:28 monodemic The Online Dating Habits of Highly Defective People

Over the past decade of using almost every dating site and app there is, I’ve come to learn what works and what doesn’t. Unfortunately, the truth is, most of it doesn’t (for me, anyway, I’m not going to even bother trying to vouch for the rest of you). While I’ve had nearly zero success online- all of my relationships coming from people I’ve met in the real world first- I have picked up on a few, shall we say, curious habits of the women on these sites/apps. Many of these habits appear to run counterintuitively to the way logic and common sense reasoning would normally work. I’d like to share these useful tidbits with you in a list I call:
The Online Dating Lies of Highly Defective People
*This is intended as mostly satirical with kernels of truth. I am also referring mainly to Tinder but could obviously be applied to other sites/apps as well. Loudmouthed narcissists and easily triggered white knights are encouraged to lodge their childish insults and/or bitchy complaints with the appropriate department.
Truth: Many of these women preface this statement by admitting that they’re sick and tired of only having the aforementioned encounters with the aforementioned types of people. A logical person would conclude that these are the types they’re interested in. When messaged by a “nice" beta male type who doesn’t give off complete douche vibes, they are either summarily friendzoned and/or ghosted. As well, if you’re on Tinder- the #1 hookup app on the planet- probably not the best place to get your hopes up. Also, your cleavage is hanging out of your ‘Slut' shirt and I can see your vagina through your transparent g-string.
Truth: Considering many of these women are meeting up with men after the most perfunctory of conversational exchanges on an app that allows for only the most minimal of biographical explication, I would say looks are your prime motivator. If you were interested in something “beyond that", you wouldn’t be on a dating app, you’d be meeting potential partners at a Sunday church brunch.
Truth: If you don’t have time to be on a dating site, you simply wouldn’t be on a dating site. Your friend/sistemothecousin/parakeet doesn’t need your support in the ethereal world of dating to be successful. As well, looking for someone for your friend is counterproductive because if your friend doesn’t have time to use a dating app, she probably doesn’t have time to date, period. It’s also curious how someone who doesn’t have time to date online can have enough time to look for a relationship for someone else.
Truth: And yet, someone’s regularly online and posting new pics of you while deleting undesirable messages from your account. Perhaps you’ve been hacked by an underachieving troublemaker?
Truth: Well, you managed to sign up to the site, create an account and upload pictures. Your job’s already done- all that’s left is to pretend you don’t know how to reply to the thousands of messages that show up in your inbox.
Truth: The people you meet on a dating app are the same people you would meet in real life, minus the overcomplications caused by facial expressions, body language, vocal intonation or any hint of individual personality that a real person would have. Essentially, you’re communicating with a static image and text on a screen. If real life isn’t working out for you, don’t expect a whole lot more from the virtual equivalent. In the off-chance that you do procure a non-virtual meeting, prepare for the same non-virtual disappointment.
Truth: When your profile has no info and only a picture of your cat, you’re either responding to just ‘hey' or you’re just fucking with people. Either way, there’s no possible way you’re so oblivious that you’re expecting more effort from others than you’re putting into this yourself.
Truth: I’m just gonna leave this one…
submitted by monodemic to tinderstories [link] [comments]


2020.05.03 02:34 iixokla [F4A PLAYING MALE] 18+ QUEEN OF THE SOUTH FANDOM 1x1 ADV LIT ROLEPLAY

yo, i’m looking for somebody to play james valdez in a queen of the south roleplay. i have a female cartel oc that’s highly developed and has distinguishable dialect and personality traits. she is not a mary sue or a typical ‘good girl dating a bad boy’ character. she is comparable to king george or teresa.
this will take place in season 2 and from there we can do whatever we would like with the plot as long as it follows the general storyline. i love plot twists and unexpected angst, so throw whatever you’ve got at me.
this plot/story has a lot of dark themes (drugs, violence, death, etc) so please know what you’re getting yourself into.
comment or pm me for further details on the plot which we can collaborate on, though i have a general starting place in mind. and PLEASE at least have a good grasp on james’ personality, it doesn’t have to be perfect but this is not an au style thing, you can give him more personality traits but stick to the basics of his canon character.
let’s get the boring introduction stuff out of the way now :p
i’m sora and i’m 18 years old and i am a cis-female(blah blah blah, boring introduction stuff). i’m an advanced literate roleplayer with about 9 years of experience, 6 of which have been in advanced/novella writing. i write in 3rd person pov, but am alright with my partner being 1st though it’s not preferred. my replies can very from short paragraphs to multi-para novella replies, depending on your preference and the current flow of the story. if i can work with your one liner response then i will. quality over quantity, just give me something to work with. i tend to try and be very descriptive when i can be (describing clothing, describing emotions, tones, feelings, internal dialogue, rooms, items, etc etc.) no amount of detail is too much! i’ll take as much as i can get.
i’m very smut friendly, versatile and open to all kinks. my only hard limits are incest and scat beastiality, blah blah blah... i have written for an abundance of different kinds of characters. lots of races, ethnicities, female, male, nonbinary, mythical-beings, robots and even a few hybrid human-animals. i’m open to playing all ages from young children to elder adults. i’ve also taken the roles of a lot of kinds of characters, from gang leaders to priests to aliens and demons, i can conform to any plot and pairing.
i will say this now. i am not necessarily looking to make friends. we honestly don’t have to like eachother ooc. if we write good together and our characters pair well then that’s just about good enough for me. that’s not to say that if you come to me ooc for a conversation that i’m going to ignore it, we could end up getting really close ooc BUT that’s not my main priority. and to add onto that, you don’t have to tell me if you’ll be gone for a day or so. real life always comes first and i’ll be here whenever you come back. if you can give me a heads up then great, but if you can’t then that’s fine as well.
i primarily use discord, imessage and snapchat to roleplay with my favorites being the first two but i am willing to try other platforms. if you aren’t comfortable giving me your info first due to safety concerns then i’ll happily give you mine first. i can assure you that no matter what platform you choose that i’m not a threat to your safety, i’m simply an 18 year old fangirl looking for a writing partner. (very convincing, i know)
i tend to lean more towards female roles, but will play males. f we do roleplay, please be open to occasionally playing side characters when they are needed and i will do the same. if a side character is talking to your main and you don’t have a set outcome in mind, i will take their role if you will do the same for me.
submitted by iixokla to AdvancedLiterateRP [link] [comments]


2020.05.01 17:03 alittlebirdy1 The New /r/sex Guidelines and Sidebar Rules - please read BEFORE posting!

After many years of operation and a tremendous amount of growth, it was time for us to update the rules of this community. While the spirit of the sub has not changed, the mod team felt it was necessary to better quantify the rules here to help eliminate some confusion. These changes are effective immediately.
sex is for civil discussions pertaining to education, advice, and discussion of your sexuality and sexual relationships. It is a sex-positive community and a safe space for people of all genders and orientations which demands respectful conduct in all exchanges.
This is a large community dedicated to an extremely popular topic. If you wish to participate, it is your responsibility to familiarize yourself with our rules of conduct BEFORE you participate here. Failure to do so will result in your removal from the community.
PLEASE READ the FAQ with the most asked and answered questions - BEFORE POSTING!! Posts that do not follow the posting guidelines in the FAQ will be automatically removed.
THE /SEX RULES
1) ENGAGE CONSTRUCTIVELY AT ALL TIMES. This means ensuring that ALL of your contributions here are constructive, on-topic, mature, sex-positive, civil and respectful. Disrespectful conduct will see you banned from the community on the spot. Hitting on other people, asking for pictures (joking or not), making any sort of sexist comment or insult, body shaming, or trolling of any sort will result in your immediate ban.
2) DON’T SKIP THE FAQ OR THE FORUM RULES. We’re serious about this. Dozens of posts get removed every day because they’re covered in the FAQ or violate the forum rules.
3) DON'T OVERLOOK PAST POSTS. We’re serious about this, too. Many questions may be new to you, but are very common in our community. Before you submit a post on a common topic, search the forum.
4) ALL CONTRIBUTIONS MUST BE SEX POSITIVE. We demand that consenting adults be free to express their sexuality as they see fit. Kink shaming, slut shaming, and similar conduct will not be tolerated. Links or references to sex negative communities or websites (No Fap, Porn Free, etc) will not be tolerated. Attacks on the lifestyle of other consenting adults will not be tolerated.
5) POSTS SEEK ADVICE, COMMENTS PROVIDE IT. The main forum is focused primarily on posts seeking specific advice, education, or discussion about distinctive personal situations. Giving advice should primarily be done in the comments, or else, in the Sexual Achievement Threads. If you want to make an exception, please request approval from moderators.
6) DO NOT TROLL OR ENGAGE WITH TROLLS HERE. Don’t try to challenge, question, tease, fight, or outwit trolls here. Instead, use the Report button to alert moderators, who will review every single reported item. Trolling of any sort merits an immediate permaban.
EXAMPLES OF CONTENT RESTRICTED IN /SEX:
1) PROMOTIONAL POSTS. This means any post containing any kind of promotional element, especially one which seeks to lure traffic to another site or promote a product. Links to specific product descriptions are permitted if they’re PRECISELY on-topic in the context of the post, AND the post itself is clearly seeking advice in good faith. If you're trying to sell something, conduct market research, etc - these posts will get you banned. Linking to sex-positive blogs or podcasts is allowed, provided you make an effort to start a conversation here about the topic and use the link as supporting material.
2) LINK POSTS. Linked material must be sex positive and precisely on-topic to stay up here, and needs to be introduced with a workable framework for discussion. Please see the posted Link Policy BEFORE you post links! Bare links to youtube, images, blogs, podcasts, etc are prohibited.
3) ACHIEVEMENT POSTS. These include appreciation, humblebrags, “I just had to share,” “I just want to say,” etc. These belong in the Daily Sexual Achievement Thread, not in the main forum. Posts which are JUST sex stories belong somewhere else entirely — like sexstories or a similar forum.
4) LOW EFFORT MATERIAL. “Does anyone else...?”, “Is [X] normal/weird?”, and so forth. Human sexuality is incredibly varied; yes, someone else likes what you like, and labels like "normal" or "weird" are meaningless. Title-only posts, posts with no effort at an actual conversation will be removed and may get you banned. Comments that consist of nothing but memes, "this", "lol" and such are highly disfavored. If comments do not further the discussion, they may be removed; a pattern of these may result in your ban.
5) SEEKING FAP MATERIAL. Do not ask for sex stories, do not ask for the hottest/strangest/most unusual/etc encounter someone ever had. Do not ask for lists of other people's kinks.
6) PORNOGRAPHY, EROTICA, OR PERSONALS. You may not post or link pornography or erotica here. You may not share pictures of your genitals here - even if you are seeking medical advice (if you need to post a picture, you need to be going to a doctor). You may not recruit sex partners here, look for dirty chat, ask for someone to private message you, etc.
7) DISRESPECTFUL CONTENT. Personal attacks, insults, name calling, or disrespect of any sort are not allowed here. Sexism, racism, or any type of hate speech will result in your immediate ban. This is a community for ALL GENDERS - refusing to acknowledge a trans individual's gender flies in the face of this, and will result in your ban.
8) OPINION SEEKING, POLLS, OR VALIDATION POSTS. This forum is not for simply collecting opinions - "do you think [X] is hot?", "Women, do you like [Y]?", "What is your favorite sex position?" and so forth. This is not a forum to discuss your penis size, breast size, labia size, ask about other body image issues, or ask for feedback on your photos. See the /sex FAQ for help regarding body image issues. Do not post your pictures and ask people to rate or critique you.
9) ACADEMIC SURVEYS. These require prior moderator approval. Moderators will review the question formats and will review the documentation of institutional ethical oversight (please provide). Non-academic surveys are seldom allowed. Please contact the moderators BEFORE you post a survey or study.
10) GENERAL RANTS, ESSAYS, EDITORIALS, VENTS, CONFESSIONS, PSAS, AND AMAS. These don’t belong in the main forum unless you have obtained prior moderator approval. Save them for story-based forums. Or Tumblr.
11) FREQUENT/FAMILIAR TOPICS. These are addressed in either the FAQ, past posts, or both. In case you are confused, this means that we do not do penis size posts here.
12) VAGUE TITLE/TOPIC. If a moderator can’t identify your issue or the type of advice you’re seeking, your post will be subject to removal. Titles should be at least several words long and adequately express what your post is about.
13) NONCONSENSUAL OR ILLEGAL CONTENT. /sex is for the discussion of consensual sex among adults. We do not permit posts that advocate pedophilia, beastiality, rape, or incest here under any circumstances. Note that BDSM and CNC (consensual nonconsent) are perfectly valid topics in /sex.
14) OTHER OFF TOPIC ISSUES. This is not the place to discuss politics or religion, to seek dating advice, to ask for how to pick up women, to rant about how you have never had sex. Posts that appear to be dedicated to stirring up arguments - particularly about hot button topics like circumcision, the evils of pornography and/or masturbation, and other toxic subjects - will be removed and will result in swift bans.
Further information about the /sex rules and policies can be reviewed on the rules page.
Other Relevant Sub-Reddits:
BDSM Community
DeadBedrooms
Dirty Pen Pals
Gone Wild
Ladyboners Gone Wild
LGBT Sex
LGBT
Normal Nudes
One Y Chromosome
Polyamory
Redditor for Redditor (Personals)
Relationships
Sex Stories
Sex Toys
Swingers
Transgender
Two X Chromosomes
submitted by alittlebirdy1 to sex [link] [comments]


2020.04.01 21:28 Nabbit12 Meeting my Final Fantasy Tactics Advance Team(personalized, part 1 of 3)

I like playing video games where the player manages a party. I like it even more when the characters have very well developed personalities. However, in the cases where the party is composed of generic units, I like to think of personalities for the characters. I find that giving characteristics and personality traits to characters make them easier to get attached to and more unique.
This post presents the biographies of all 24 of my Final Fantasy Tactics Advance clan members. I know this idea is kind of silly, but I hope you enjoy reading this as I introduce my team the way I imagined them. And yes, this is based off of my actual FFTA team if I didn't say that already. I have divided these biographies into three parts simply because after writing a few entries, I decided that having all 24 members on one post would be too much. Even after dividing this into three parts, just part one itself is still very long. Make sure you've got a good amount of free time, and enjoy reading!

Number 1

First name: Jason(main character)
Last name: Radiuju
Race: Human
Class: Fighter
Abilities: Fighter Tech, Blue Magic, Strikeback, Double Sword
Description: He's been everywhere, defeated almost everyone, mastered nearly every class, and yet still remains quite humble about his accomplishments. Jason saved the world time and time again, but he still prefers to look at sunsets rather than signing autographs. He could have been a capable magic user, but Jason joined the clan as a highly confused Soldier, only having the knowledge of wielding a sword. Thus, he became much more developed in physical combat, although he remained somewhat in touch with magic as well.
Jason spent most of his time as a Fighter, and he was known for dealing major damage to even the toughest of tanks. He favored the high attack power of blades rather than something like the range of bows. His strength was elevated after the mastery of Double Sword, the highest of Ninja abilities. During the recruitment of Lini, Jason came across the treasures of the Hero Gaol, the Ayvuir Blue and Ayvuir Red. Since then, he has wielded those two blades like his friendship with Montblanc.
Although his adventure wasn't boring, definitely not, but he wanted more. He wanted more, not in the sense of riches or fame, but in terms of new discoveries. Then one day, Jason discovered the marvels of Blue Magic. He never realized how much Blue Magic the amazing world of Final Fantasy had in stock, and that gave Jason a new mission. Jason was determined to learn every single Blue Magic ability in existence, and he wouldn't stop until he mastered everything. Jason's clanmates say that he dedicated his life to it after the fall of the Queen, and they say he is working on it to this day.

Number 2

First name: Montblanc
Last name: ??
Race: Moogle
Class: Time Mage
Abilities: Time Magic, Black Magic, Return Magic, Geomancy
Description: He was the leader of Clan Victory until Jason came along, meandering and stumbling around in massive confusion. Montblanc, despite being a complete stranger to Jason, welcomed him into his clan. From that day forward, Montblanc and Jason became lifelong partners, their magic and physical abilities going hand in hand. Up until Jason's arrival, Clan Victory had been less than prosperous. They lost constantly against enemy clans, even Clan Dip. Montblanc kept the clan together, but even he was beginning to lose faith that he would become anything more than a street moogle. After Clan Victory started making a name for itself, Montblanc became much friendlier with everyone else, although he never really got along with the clan's bangaa members. After the fall of the Queen, Montblanc's amazing talent with magic was made public, and everyone congratulated the mage they once doubted. In battle, he was a fierce caster. People told stories of how the damage Montblanc's magic did was comparable to meteors tearing through the earth. Eventually, he settled down with a female Mog Knight comrade. Now Montblanc had two partners, Jason and Lini.

Number 3

First name: Mosley
Last name: Kaufen
Race: Human
Class: Ninja
Abilities: Ninja Skill, Steal, Counter, Double Sword
Description: He was always quite the cheery guy, despite all the hardships he went through. Mosley was always a talented swordfighter and a great student. He got along well with all of his peers in the neighborhood. His parents thought Mosley would make an excellent Paladin, for he was respectful to his opponents, even if Mosley was completely annihilated. Mosley's fellow classmates admired his skillful swordplay, some commenting that he could be able to hold two swords in one hand.
However, tragedy struck when his parents lost their household and valuables to the royal government as punishment for their crimes in the past. Even with loans from his grandparents, Mosley's family could no longer afford a home. They were cast to the streets, frequently suffering from rain and pickpockets slowly swiping away whatever gil they had. Mosley, no longer able to afford an education, practiced sword techniques all by himself in an alleyway.
The situation escalated when one night, his parents were mysteriously abducted. Mosley could only recall a few hooded figures before he was hit in the head, and promptly blacked out. After regaining consciousness, he knelt down and sobbed at nothing in particular, for there was no body to grieve. This began the portion of Mosley's life that he regrets most; he made his living by stealing from those richer than himself, even going as far as stealing from his childhood friends. By the time he was an adult, Mosley became a full-fledged Ninja. During this time, not only did his thieving skills improve substantially, Mosley also improved his swordsmanship to the point where he could hold two swords at once.
Due to his optimism, the Ninja usually did not come across as dangerous or unfriendly. Mosley regularly interacted with people throughout the towns of Ivalice, and no one suspected a thing from him. Unfortunately, he was caught thieving one night by a judge working late, and was immediately arrested. Mosley staunchly defended his actions, claiming that he was "righteously stealing". The judges had none of this, and declared that he was a threat to the law of Ivalice. Thanks to Mosley's honest enough demeanor, he managed to avoid imprisonment, but his record would be forever stained with regrettable actions.
Mosley did not pay much attention to the rumors that were circulating around about the cheery Ninja, but rather, he was looking forward to some golden opportunity. Finally, it came when a strange moogle begged Mosley to join his clan after a long day of rejections. This moogle turned out to be Montblanc. Mosley felt proud to be one of the first members of Clan Victory and was looking forward to using his sword skills for good rather than evil. Over time, Mosley mastered the job of Ninja to absolute perfection, and began using magic for an amount of time out of sheer boredom. He later commented that using magic was an...interesting experience to say the least. Various accidents involved Mosley accidentally burning, electrifying, or freezing his headgear.
He assisted Clan Victory in their battle with the Queen, but he took a major wound during the battle with Llednar. Mosley later helped Judgemaster Cid track down and punish the corrupt judges using his experience with thievery and espionage. These days, Mosley is still in high spirits, always looking for something new and interesting to do. However, on the rare days when people would catch Mosley feeling down, he was undoubtedly thinking about his parents. Mosley vowed to try and search for his parents, not for revenge, but for truth.

Number 4

First name: Basil
Last name: unknown
Race: Bangaa
Class: Dragoon
Abilities: Dragoon Tech, Monk Tech, Dragonheart, Weapon Attack+
Description: Basil's origins are mysterious, to say the least. Even after years of searching through his memory, he still has no recollection of any family. The only guardians that Basil had were the dragons of the land. Dragons lived in the harshest of environments: volcanos, deserts, mountains, you name it. Yet even as a young bangaa child, Basil lived amongst the dragons as one of their own. He learned how to communicate with them, and began learning some of their beastial abilities. As an adult, Basil traveled in and out of Cyril, looking for some opportunity to use his talents.
Eventually, by chance, Basil signed up for Montblanc's clan. It was hardly a clan at this point, having a whopping three members. With Basil's incredible strength, however, he almost seemed like two units in one. One day, Basil desired to change equipment, citing that swords seemed too limiting for a Dragoon such as himself. It was on one fateful day when Basil swirled around a Javelin, that he discovered his love for spears. They were sleek, fashionable, and offered much more power than swords. Basil became renowned for being the embodiment of destruction, able to kill enemies left and right, often in one hit.
Off the battlefield, Basil was known for being a real rabble rouser in the pubs. He and most of the other bangaa of the clan often got themselves into bar fights, nearly landing some of them in jail. Basil was quite nice and sociable most of the time, but he also had an explosive temper. Quite frequently, the judges would have to restrain Basil from annihilating disrespectful opponents. A soft spot existed in this bangaa's heart for the human Paladin, Willie. Her intelligent wits and Basil's earth crushing strength attracted each other, and they eventually confessed together. Willie hated Basil's habit of trashing the pubs, and she often scolded him for making a ruckus. Regardless, they got along as a couple and promised to stay together even when they grew old and grey. When asked about his past, Basil said there was less reason to look back at history rather than looking forward to the future.

Number 5

First name: Mila
Last name: Lucia
Race: Viera
Class: Summoner
Abilities: Summon Magic, Red Magic, Absorb MP, Magic Pow+
Description: Mila was the shy Summoner of Clan Victory who had powerful magic at her disposal. She was also very beautiful, but she grew up believing that beauty was a curse. All her life, many disgusting guys were attracted to Mila for her looks only. Mila slowly became less outgoing and more cautious. Eventually, Mila deduced that if men would not stop approaching her, she would make them stop by destroying them with powerful summon magic.
Her powerful magic skill made everyone keep their distance, and that was exactly what Mila wanted. Unfortunately, she succeeded too well, as every clan around was too fearful to accept Mila. One morning, in Sprohm, Mila encountered Montblanc and his party. Montblanc was looking for more members and Mila happily joined, for she finally found a clan that didn't recognize her as "The Iron Mistress". At first, Mila felt lonely simply because the clan had yet to recruit any fellow viera. Fortunately, several more viera joined the ranks of Clan Victory as they rose to fame.
Mila was a fearsome spellcaster who earned respect from even the most powerful of Sages and Alchemists. Her magic completely decimated Fighters, Defenders, and other melee units. One thing that Mila discovered early on was that Summon spells affected a much larger area than other kinds of magic. Thus, Mila would occasionally hurt her own allies or heal an enemy by accident. She started to take up some Red Magic after learning everything there was about Summoners. Mila wasn't expecting too much out of Red Magic, but that changed after learning the highly desirable Doublecast. If people thought she was powerful before, that was nothing compared to the feats Mila could perform with Doublecast. However, this caused some commotion between Mila and Eldena, a Red Mage who also knew Doublecast. Originally starting off as rivals, Mila and Eldena would frequently argue about who was the better "Doublecaster" between the two of them.
After an incident regarding a Panther ambush, the two of them came to a consensus that there was not much point in arguing. Mila and Eldena from that point on became the Doublecasting Duo, a pair feared and respected all across Ivalice. They still occasionally got a bit violent with each other. This confused Jason who could not tell if they were friends or not. Mila's view on beauty would change when she was approached by the clan's human healer, Lidenbok. Lidenbok expressed his admiration for Mila's magical talent, but most of these efforts were ignored. Mila assumed that Lidenbok was just a loser who learned some low level magic in order to try and impress her. However, through repeated genuine gestures and favors, Mila realized that Lidenbok wasn't a person who would dump someone after a first date. Mila started to open up towards Lidenbok more, since she always wanted to get to know fellow mages. Eventually, Lidenbok confessed to Mila that his feelings for her were greater than friendship. Mila's response was delayed; none of the guys in her past ever confessed to her in such an honest way, but she still had her doubts. Her doubts were cleared when Lidenbok revealed to her a Tiara, a truly rare artifact in the world of Ivalice. She could see it in his eyes, sincerity and all. After the fall of the Queen, Lidenbok and Mila settled down together. Mila was well aware that she would live much longer than her beloved, but she decided to not worry about that, and focus more on the fact that someone adored her in a way stronger than a date to the pub.

Number 6

First name: Katarina
Last name: Rose
Race: viera
Class: Assassin
Abilities: Corner, Sharpshoot, Return Fire, Concentrate
Description: Assassins usually gave off uneasy first impressions, and Katarina was no exception. Having grown up in a place where duty was everything, Katarina was a trained killer from the moment she was born. Her parents died early on, leaving behind very few belongings and memories. Katarina was far from social. The mere concepts of hanging out and dating were completely unfamiliar to her. Katarina made a name for herself by fighting opponents in duals. She was a powerful combatant indeed, but what was most unusual was the lack of communication. No advice, no congratulations, no nothing. Every opponent witnessed her leaving the arena with haste, unable to learn anything else about the mysterious Assassin. Katarina slowly became tired of fighting weak opponents, she believed that she belonged in a group of powerful warriors, people who matched her in skill and ferocity.
Those were definitely not the first things she thought when she saw Montblanc's pitifully small clan. Montblanc stopped her in the middle of a street while she was on the way to purchase more equipement. Part of her mind encouraged her to slap the little moogle out of her way. However, she could not help but feel an ounce of remorse for the moogle who was practically begging at this point. Katarina joined, mostly to make Montblanc shut his mouth. She also offered some expert combat advice to the other clan mates. Katarina remained a powerful clan member, but some members such as Jason became increasingly concerned about Katarina's mental state.
Katarina performed well in events such as tournaments and turf wars. However, she never found those things to be fun. Like everything else in life, clan life was just more work to Katarina. She took orders without question, and carried through with them. Katarina was focused on only one thing, killing. In battle, she was a monster in close combat. Katarina never got in touch with greatbows, as she realized that her full potential as an Assassin could only be unleashed at melee range. Her unmatched speed allowed her to run circles around opponents, who could only pray that Katarina would make their deaths quick. Katarina was one of the founding members of the clan, but she generally never paid any attention to that. Along with Mosley, Katarina helped Judgemaster Cid track down the judges corrupting the law system. Unknown to everyone else, Katarina was planning to leave. She considered her job done. After all, she completely mastered the Assassin class and assisted Clan Victory on their journey for fame. Nobody noticed the fact that Katarina was slowly packing up her belongings, and nobody noticed the gradual emptying of Katarina's room. Stepping up when no one else did, it took the wise healer Lidenbok to convince Katarina that there was more to life than killing. He explained that every person has only one life, and he said that it would be a shame spending it as some mindless abomination slaying things. Lidenbok knew that Katarina's life had a bad start, but he told her that it shouldn't change who you are. This touched Katarina's heart and it was the first time she felt emotion ever since her first encounter with a crying Montblanc. Everyone in the clan helped Katarina to loosen up and be more outgoing. Katarina had a change of plans. She was going to stay with the clan, a group of her...friends. Her job may have been done as an Assassin, but Katarina was nowhere close to finish the job of learning about life.

Number 7

First name: Willionetta "Willie"
Last name: Frankhurst
Race: Human
Class: Paladin
Abilities: Chivalry, Blue Magic, Reflex, Weapon Defense+
Description: Willie always had an incredible sense of justice and honesty. Her combat teachers always regarded Willie as "worthy Paladin material", citing her elegant swordplay and teamwork. Willie was a cheery girl who would go picking out flowers in grassy fields, but she was also a tough fighter. Taller and stronger than most human females, Willie made it clear that she could be just as heroic as the knights she read about in fairy tales. Everyone who underestimated Willie were met with an extravagant and sudden defeat. Over her lifetime, she taught many of these "lessons" to opponents who laughed at the idea of a female knight.
Perhaps by chance or fate, Willie came across Montblanc's clan defending Ritz's clan against a gang of highway bandits. In the aftermath of the battle, Willie commended Montblanc's actions and requested to join his clan. Montblanc graciously accepted Willie's offer, and she joined as a founding member of Clan Victory. Willie took charge of the clan's recruiting efforts, making sure that nobody else in the clan was slacking off. On the battlefield, Willie had remarkable endurance. She was able to protect herself and her allies with ease, allowing them to weather storms of enemy attacks. Willie never prefered combat over discussion, but she could strike very hard if she needed to. Her sense of righteousness allowed her to detect cheaters of the law, helping Clan Victory in several encounters.
Willie fought alongside Clan Victory against Queen Remedi, happily dealing the final blow. She later commented, "That last strike...it felt like peace was restored to Ivalice. Of course, there will always be bad people and sources of oppression lurking around. That is why I am here, liberating the people of good heart from the everlasting evil." Ezel was always a touchy subject to bring up around Willie. She argued heavily against letting a threat to the law into Clan Victory, but Ezel joined anyway. Ezel's blatant ignorance of the laws irked Willie to a point where she requested Jason to dismiss him. She learned that even though Ezel mocked and ignored laws, he admitted to also committing actions that he was not proud of. Cutting him a bit of slack, Willie started to converse with Ezel more regularly, greatly improving their understanding of each other.
Willie never imagined she would fall for a fellow bangaa in the clan. Although not against bangaa, they tended to have habits that bothered Willie greatly. First of all, bangaa were known to cause trouble in the pubs. Basil and the other bangaa in the clan, calling themselves the Bangaa Brothers, started bar brawls nearly every single day. Second, bangaa weren't known for being the kindest people in the world. However, Basil caught her eye when she noticed his attitude towards unsportsmanlike opponents. He went about it in the most violent way of course, but she took note of his sense of justice. For a time, Willie pushed thoughts of romance aside, as Basil still had the same habits of drinking and trashing pubs as other bangaa. But one day, Basil approached her saying that he respected a fellow knight who punished the guilty. Obviously, Basil wasn't a knight, but he sure had some of the mannerisms of one. Willie was shocked at how much of a gentleman he was, and she took her time looking at his toned muscles. Eventually, they both confessed to each other their feelings, and Willie was excited she finally met someone who liked her in the same way. Every so often, Willie punished Basil for causing a brawl in a pub, but they still fit together "like butter and eggs" as she stated. Her legacy did not end there, for she and Basil set out on a mission to free all of Ivalice from evil. In addition to slaying the Queen, Willie and Basil became known as defenders for the common people, liberating the towns from whatever threatened them. Willie was glad to have Basil, her shining knight, by her side. Both of them knew that they would never give up on each other.

Number 8

First name: Holbin
Last name: Mossgrow
Race: nu mou
Class: Morpher
Abilities: Morph, Control, Damage to MP, Immunity
Description: For the longest time, Holbin's life meant almost nothing. Holbin grew up fascinated with the creatures and beasts of nature. As a younger nu mou, he would spend hours talking to various animals in the language of the beastmaster. Holbin found friendship and sanctuary in these wild animals, as the civilized world was yet to treat him with respect. Most people found Holbin's communication with beasts incredibly unusual, and they refused to believe in his "witchcraft". Passerbys would give Holbin glares or confused looks as they watched him speak gibberish to some creature. Holbin's brothers berated him for his decision to be a Beastmaster rather than a mage. It was common knowledge that for a nu mou, any career that didn't involve magic usually resulted in failure. Feeling unsupported by his family, Holbin ran away from home with only his essentials and some small hope that he would find a better purpose for his Beastmaster talents.
That day came when Montblanc's clan accepted Holbin's request, and with a specific reason. Jason explained to Holbin that their clan has been engaging with various wild monsters lately. This was all before Clan Victory started to get involved with events like turf wars and tournaments, they were still mainly engaging monsters. During Clan Victory's beginning days, Holbin helped out greatly with handling monsters. Later on, after Jason and Willie began to explore Blue Magic, Holbin was even more useful for them to learn abilities like White Wind. However, Holbin was still unsatisfied. His combat performance was mediocre at best. He was tougher than most other nu mou by a noticeable amount, but his strength was nowhere near the warriors of the clan. Holbin knew close to no magic at all, and the instruments he used as weapons drew even more laughter when Holbin lost battles.
By the time Clan Victory expanded to a sizeable roster, Holbin felt like he lost his purpose. Being a Beastmaster did not improve his combat skill well, and his abilities mainly served to make monster ambushes less inconvenient. People still insulted him, laughed at him, and his opponents rarely showed respect. Even the light-hearted teasing from Holbin's clan mates started to bother him. He may have left, had Cheney not joined the clan. Cheney was a phenomenal hunter and would inadvertently restore Holbin's purpose in the clan. While hunting, Cheney began noticing the oddity of monsters dropping their souls upon capture. This intrigued both Jason and Holbin, who promptly began some extended research. Holbin eventually found that he could go one step beyond talking to creatures, and become the creatures themselves through the Morpher class. As Clan Victory captured more and more monsters, Holbin's capability as a Morpher grew larger. After more research, Holbin learned that a monster's abilities can be enhanced by feeding them and playing with them. Like the child he used to be, Holbin fed and played with all of his monster friends. In the Monster Bank, time seemed to just melt away as Holbin happily treated the creatures like his own children.
Being a Morpher also improved his combat strength significantly. No longer did Holbin have to use flimsy instruments, for he could literally turn into a dragon and incinerate enemies with blazing fire! At peak performance, Holbin could dish out damage that made even Basil a bit jealous. Really, as a Morpher, Holbin could handle basically anything. There were monsters that allowed Holbin to deal massive damage, heal allies, or inflict debilitating status effects on opponents. The only problem was the fact that Holbin was unable to possess multiple monsters at once. Even as a Morpher, attempting to take the form of more than one creature at once caused the person's spirit to die from sheer DNA overload. At least, that's what Holbin assumed would happen, for no one was actually crazy enough to test it out. Nevertheless, Holbin remained an amazing fighter who worked all the way from the ground up. People no longer glared at Holbin or called him a weirdo, for he had the might of nature's creatures by his side. Holbin took up arms against Queen Remedi and had the pleasure of nearly KOing her in one blow from Fire Breath. In the aftermath of the final conflict, Holbin returned to doing what he loved most, playing the clan's animals. Peace may have been restored, but Holbin wasn't done, for there was still plenty of room for him to improve his Morpher abilities. Holbin told himself that when the end of his life approached, maybe he would try to morph into two creatures at once. Just maybe, for science.

Conclusion

So, how was that? Did you like getting to meet one third of my FFTA party? I plan on making parts 2 and 3 somewhat soon, featuring members 9-16 and 17-24. I guess I already spoiled some of the later clan members, since I included their names in a few of the first biographies. Like I said in the beginning, I find that characterizing generic units makes them easier to get attached to. If you try hard enough, it's almost as if they're real.
submitted by Nabbit12 to finalfantasytactics [link] [comments]


2020.01.21 12:58 kurojoon My best friend (15F) is dating a 23 yr old guy and has no intention to stop even though there are many reasons she should

PLEASE READ FULLY.
I already posted about this on here before, but things didn't turn out as I expected. Firstly, I made a mistake with waiting a few weeks hoping that she'd stop dating this adult that she's known for only a few days.
However, to my absolute terror, she told me that he took her virginity and had already slept with him twice in a week. Mind you, she has had sexual experiences before that left her feeling dirty and violated although it didn't lead to full-on sex.
Secondly, I hoped this man would be someone who would at least treat her well if I failed to convince her to stop dating him. Sadly, I had the chance to meet him with another friend of mine and he turned out to be the worst person I've ever met in my 16 years of living. He's an avid Trump fan and is highly narcissistic and, for lack of a better word, sociopathic. He claimed that he was better than everyone, going as far as to call himself God. He was also very rude and belittled my left-aligning views (but that's besides the point). He also said that people who work 9-to-5 jobs are pathetic slaves, despite being a college dropout living in his mother's house with barely anything to call a job. Yes, he's a massive asshole.
What's most terrifying is, he kept calling my friend (his girlfriend) Bitch and telling her to shut the fuck up sometimes when she spoke (in a public setting by the way). My friend even admitted that they physically fought, although play-fighting, the first time she was in his house (he's a trained MMA fighter by the way). Moreover, my friend that accompanied when we met him said that she'd beat him up as a joke, but he took it seriously and put her in a headlock in front of everyone. Afterwards, she told me that it hurt really bad and was so shocked at his actions.
The guy also has 2 other girlfriends, according to my best friend (they are in an open relationship).
(I looked up his facebook account and I saw that he was also very racist, who used the N word often. The jokes he made were also very unethical and full-on concerning at times. He made a joke about beastiality as well)
Anyways, after we met up with my best friend and the jerk, they then met up with 2 of my other friends. They told us later on thru messages that the asshole kept ranting about how he should've beaten up "that fat bitch" aka the girl he headlocked.
My friend who got headlocked spoke to my best friend later in the evening to convince her stop. She admitted that she was dating him because she's so bored with her life and it made her happy even though she knew it was wrong.
She started crying and after an hour of talking, she promised to end things with him. She called him on the phone but supposedly, it caused an argument and she called back saying she decided to keep dating him.
This all seemed really bad, so my 2 friends and I decided to take actual measures to end their relationship. We were thinking of telling her parents, but decided to tell a teacher that we trusted instead. He advised us to stay by her side, because she showed signs of being a victim of an abusive relationship and said that usually these victims find it hard to get out of them because they feel like they don't deserve better. (For context, her parents are very strict and used to beat her up a lot, with her mom always shaming her weight and calling her stupid)
The teacher told us not to tell her parents, because it'd make things worse, and just support her in everything else she does and try to limit the time she spends with her boyfriend by hanging out with her often.
We've been trying to do this, but it hasn't worked out well. Just recently, she sneaked out of her house at 2 am and met up with him only to get caught when she came home at 8 am. Terrified that her parents would found out about her relationship, she lied to them, saying she was going to kill herself but decided not to. Her parents were deeply hurt by this and her dad beat her with his belt. She showed us photos of her multiple bruises and it was all very horrifying.
She also quit the debate club to spend more time with him.
So, telling her parents is out the window. Imagine what they'd do if they find out she's dating an adult? Moreover, my other best friend is completely okay with her relationship, claiming that it's the first time she's seen her smiling so much. But I believe that even if she's happier, this needs to end because he might end up beating her or maybe even raping her later on and that's so scary to me.
What do I do? I'm literally at a loss, because everything I've thought about always leads to a dead end.
Thank you, N.
submitted by kurojoon to Advice [link] [comments]


2020.01.09 04:44 ImWatching_ Here is my NNN diary. Please excuse the grammar and have a good read. :)

NNNovember Manifesto Prologue: Muscular forearm. In preparation for the month of defacation I spent hours in the bathroom releasing my seed into the perpetual uterus of the toilet. Hoping that one day in the future I will meet my mutant ninja turtle son. I spent my last night previous to NNN also known as Halloween scaring children and molesting a jellyfish. When I returned to my den it was 11pm and I decided for the ultimate and final release. It felt good, like baby soft skin simmering over an open flame.
Day 1: First Encounter Aka Spooky scary adultery. After a long night of scaring children and stealing candy from babies. I was ready for the month ahead. I spent the morning of November first shadow boxing in front of my mirror nude, scrolling through my Instagram feed, nude, tackling my dogs, nude. Just imagine a 2 incher swinging through the air as a 6 foot 1 inch kid flew and tackled a miniature poodle. After my surprisingly open groin free morning I played video games talking to egirls on league of legends. It was tough trying to contain my excitement but I eventually pulled through from the ethots and continued throughout the day. In the afternoon my parents went out to buy groceries which was tough because one of the most important rules of NNN is to never be home alone. Pornhub announced at 7pm that 20million have already failed.
Day 2: 24 hours of abstinence In day 2 I spent my morning cleaning the house and hiding my none nude but lude Overwatch models. The night before D.va had been looking at me funny as if I should spent extra time in the bathroom with her. I was feeling quite aroused that night but my friend reminded me to stay strong.in the afternoon i spent my time on wallpaper engine looking at mature wallpapers. All I can say is lolis are the best idea Japan has come up with since the bombing of Pearl Harbor. If it wasn’t NNN I would have dropped a bomb bigger than Hiroshima. It was too early to drop out, so I decided to keep my hands out of my pants.
Day 3: smooth skin, Is that my girlfriend? Last night I had a dream of spooning with my imaginary girlfriend. I felt her smooth skin rub against pelvic tissue. The sensation of a million baby feet dancing on my tummy gave me the feeling of utmost peace of mind. The aroma of scented candles filled the room as if a classy gentleman had entered the room. But instead of a gentleman it was a breast during the dream, a soft, squishy, and firm texture. But how would I know about breasts. I’m a virgin... The relaxation was insatiable and almost post nut like but when I checked my underwear I was clean. I spent that whole day experiencing nut withdrawals. I watched explicit content for about 5 hours spending every waking hour with an elongated shlong.
Day 4: yearning for loli On day four or the first Monday of November I went to each class as normal. Everything felt right, no, everything felt great! Until our break. During break I spend a lot of my time talking to the females and socializing, today was no different until something stroked my arm. It would have been a normal interaction of simply playing it off as nothing had happened but today was different. I thought my withdrawals from the high society of the nut were over but instead I spiraled out of control. I noticed it within the 2 seconds in which it made contact. In order to save my dignity I scurried to the restroom. Worst idea... the temptation in the restroom is increased 10 fold. The feeling was as if tentacle hentai and reality combined. When sitting in the stall trying to apply pressure to the abnormality in my pants I felt a moist sensation. At that moment I truly felt as if my NNN run had come to an end. Like a nude loli came out of the void with an ahegao face staring at me with absolute pleasure. It felt like bliss... When reality finally kicked in I checked my pants expecting a massive, humongous, gargantuan puddle dripping down my leg but, I was clean. I exited the restroom and continued my day.
Day 5: revelation Imagine lasting 5 days into NNN. Yeah pretty hard right. You haven’t accepted the fact that you haven’t beaten the living crap out of you metaphorical meat. Maybe some of the previous bruises from the great meat beating are finally healing. Feels great. I can’t believe I’ve lasted. I spent my morning at school trying to isolate myself from all others. As soon as I set foot on campus my scrotum felt like it was going to burst like a volcano with fiery hot liquid spewing out. In class I was feeling sluggish as if something was missing. I was angry. The thought of being unable to satisfy my most primitive and desired need threw me into a deep rage. In order to avoid breaking down I tried to continue to work on math work. But when I accidentally typed boobies into my calculator I was at my limit. It felt like a midget was under the table in the sluttiest clothes rubbing and stroking me off. It was like being tickled by the feather that sat upon the head of yankee doodle.
Day 6: privileged Today I went to my rich friends house. I guess we can say they will have an intense bathroom clean up. I did eat chipotle for lunch.
Day 7: San Clemente fantasy Race day 2k19, the heat was on. After racing a 20:29 3 mile I was exhausted. The thought of pleasure had all but left my mind. All the races had ended for the day and the awards ceremony was about to begin. We sat on the grass which was squishy from the moistness. Hills surrounded us, behind us was the setting sun coloring the sky a light pink and yellow. It was truly golden hour. As the meet director announced the the winners there were 7 San Clemente girls behind us. The sensation of a sweet crisp apple filled my mind as fresh as the sea breeze. There was a playfulness in the air as if the losers and the winners where celebrating as one. But for that night I was truly a winner. The meet director’s microphone broke and he spent time trying to find a replacement. As he did this the tension was rising, the playful giggling increased in volume as the seconds ticked by. I was about to bust. As if a bountiful harvest resulted in festivity. With creamy slime being the main attraction. The bulge in my pants caused me to sit cross legged with my hands covering the extra limb. Sweat began to build up in my palms. Then the sweet contact of their hand stroked my back. A rush filled my body as time flew. I was going to fail. Shifting awkwardly in my seat the giggling increased. They handed my friend a gummy worm who in turn told me to lay down and open my mouth. When I did he dropped the gummy worm in my mouth. In turn I used the power of my inner prostitute to launch the gummy worm out of my throat and 2 feet into the air. It reminded me of my ancestors and of my home. Then the feeling of a thousand warriors filled my body as I turned around and let out the first words. The words didn’t feel like they were coming out. The significant risk of engaging the 7 fair maidens was intense. The thought was as if finding new lands with plentiful natural resources with people that far outnumber that of my own. I was overtaken. Towards the end we exchanged Instagram’s and instantly slid into the dm’s. During the bus ride back to my school we joined a call the girl I was messaging was Natalie. She made the excuse of her phone being at only 2% only for me to respond that she was 98% in my heart. If experiencing pleasure from words was true then this wasn’t ordinary vanilla porn this was an orgy.
Day 8: Sleepover Today the boys slept over. We watched the league of legends world finals. It was sad like not having a girlfriend for 16 years , yet wishing the perfect one was out there even though there isn’t anyone that will fit your retarded ass criteria. Today I got desperate, so desperate that when I saw my friends ass I got a little stubby.
Day 9: Sleepover concluding day Today our friend spent 1 hour in the bathroom. He didn’t know his phone was hooked up to the Bluetooth speaker. We spent a good amount of time listening to what sounded like a middle aged woman foreplay as a 5 year old girls that hit puberty at 2. We confronted him about it later in the day. Today we have confirmed a fallen brother in combat. It is truly a sad day.
Day 10: Push-ups Have you ever done pushups while not wearing anything but a throw towel over your shoulder? Well I’ll just tell you it is quite nice. When you go down you penis hits the floor then bounces as you lift back up. It feels like a mini game. Like you perfected a double bounce on the trampoline except you did 5 sets of 20 double bounces.
Day 11: yogurt Today I had a nice classy yogurt. This was no ordinary yogurt, it was the special kind that you pour over a certain topping. This topping happened to be a nice blueberry jam. While to a normal person this would be absolutely delightful, but I’m no ordinary person. Pouring the yogurt over the blueberry jam was as if releasing the fine cream that lays dormant in the genitalia of the male. The blueberry jam being the excrement in the toilet bowl of the yogurt cup. It was true dejavu.
Day 12: pizza Today someone tried to shove pizza up my ass. They succeeded and now I shit Italian.
Day 13: cool dudes do beastiality Today I caught my dogs making sticky in their cage. Mom and dad said they were just wrestling.
Day 14: Anus The average human anus can stretch 9-12 centimeters. I’m no normal human so I’m going to go for 13.
Day 15: Hinder thy tinder Just created a tinder account. I’ve spent the last 2 hours messaging people and telling them that if we were to date I’d be that guy that whispers seductively in their ear whenever each chore is finished. Picture this, (whispers in ear) laundry is done, (whispers I ear) dishes alllllll cleannn.
Day 16: Gay? I swear the government is trying to make everyone gay. Today I saw a rainbow. I wonder why the government is wasting tax payer dollars to make people gay. I think it is a violation of the constitution and should be reviewed in court.
Day 17: this is a cool pickup line If your left leg is thanksgiving and your right leg is Christmas can I visit you between the holidays? This has a 100% success rate.
Day 18: rubby all over the tummy I never knew how good it felt to rub your tum tum. Just aggressively rub your tummy whenever you are bored and it takes away all thoughts of the nutty nutty. But be careful, if you put your finger too deep into your belly tum hole you will get a little surge that might take you out of no nutty November.
Day 19: Entrails Holy fuck. I don’t care what anyone says, all I know is female entrails are fucking hot. Imagine a lasso being perfectly tossed around a burro except the lasso symbolizes the entrails of a female and I am the burro. Love it...
Day 20: tournament Where the fuck are all the god damn e-girls. I do not host Nintendo smash tournaments for no god damn reason. The name has a double meaning. One, smash and demolish you opponents two, it means I’m not going to be a fucking virgin. But when no e-girls show up to this shit it is a real kick in the balls. It’s like the pain of being born combined with Japanese cock and ball torture. Like a little boy that was born 2 days ago and has his balls drop extremely early just to have a Japanese wench yank on them with a rope. Imagine the excess skin that baby would have when it grew up. Holy shit I thought I had saggy balls.
Day 21: date 1 pm I’m gonna get laid 7 pm I’m now lonely and will be alone forever
Day 22: Roadblock The road of semen has officially been sealed. Today I got so insanely lustful that I had to tape my genitalia closed. The tape tickled the top every so often sending a sensitive rush through my body. I was so close to doing it that I could imagine a transgender stripper giving me a lap dance and speaking to me in an extremely manly voice as his tits waved in front of my face. The only thing that was off was the fact that his balls kept hitting my balls which almost felt like a punch making me crumple over. When I snapped out of the mirage I was on the floor gasping. My hand behind my back like an upside down whale and my penis in the air twitching and begging to be stroked, it was intense.
Day 23: Toe masturbation Ok the common person might find this weird but I found another way to deal with the lack of fruit consisting of a hard or tough shell around an edible kernel. This is simply known as toe masturbation. It feels good and you don’t nut. Step one depending on the person you might want to find either a rigid surface like a wall corner or a nice blanket. Once you have that then rub the side of your big toe against it. For the wall or rigid object you will want to get a wind up and kick the shit out of the object. For the soft blanket you will want to rub it so hard that you get rug burns. The reason for this is that toe masturbation is for weird masochists that really need to end themselves. The pain they feel know will be amplified a million times in hell.
Day 24:Woman are evil All women are evil. Consider this scenario, in a lesbian relationship, who is more likely to cheat? Yeah that’s right, the woman.
Day 25: Hulk Today I spent too much time in the sun. The gamma rays had been focused on my special square and know I believe it’s green. I guess now I have a hulking putenshlasa.
Day 26: Hypothesis Today I believe I have concocted the perfect way to court a female specimen. The hypothesis goes like this, In nature usually two males exchange and compete in serious competitions to court a female. You being a female would it be possible for me to win your praise if I were to challenge and win a fight against a male?
Day 27: Water fight This morning my neighbor challenged me to a water gun fight. Like dude it’s the middle of winter and it’s 40 degrees outside. Guess I’ll do it. I just decided to write this entry as I wait for the water to boil.
Day 28: Venezuelan economy The only thing more fucked than my sister in my uncle’s basement is when my sister is in my uncle’s basement with 2 of my uncles, my dad, my priest and my 2 miniature poodles. Those fucking poodles get the shit beaten out of them so often that they need to blow off some steam on a cum filled corpse. They probably just piss on the body to claim it as theirs. There is only one thing more fucked than that. The Venezuelan economy, they got a black market. Like dude I’d love to go to a market where everything is black, that would be sick. The only problem is that it isn’t the fastest way to deliver slaves because that would be blackmail. The thing is slaves jokes aren’t very funny, I’d give each one about a 3/5. Let’s be honest here the only way I am allowed to buy slaves is with my MasterCard and the black market doesn’t usually accept it so blackmail it is. My question is if 5 slaves where to have an orgy would it be considered a 3 way?
Day 29: Truck I wonder if I get hit by a truck will I be transported to another world where I would be overpowered and have a harem? That would be nice but unlikely. My reason being is that there is always at least one loli in a harem and knowing my luck that isn’t possible.
Day 30: Quince I swear Mexicans are dirty as fuck. Not dirty in the physical way I mean mentally. Now that I realize it’s both physically and mentally. My reason being they are gardeners for physical so they get literally dirty. For mentally they have this special drink call horchata first of all this drink has to do with hors and second of all it is as white as cum. If I wasn’t a professional I would have actually thought it was cum because it actually tastes like it. This white liquid is the liquid they serve from the youngest child to the most senior in the room. If there were to be an orgy horchata will definitely be there. Btw doesn’t horchata kinda sound like a stripper name. Like some stripper is giving you a lap dance and you can’t help but moaning her name like “ohh horchata, just like that”
submitted by ImWatching_ to NNN [link] [comments]


2019.12.06 17:36 AngelInThePit Highlights from Snooki and Joey’s “It’s Happening” podcast 12.6.19 “Snooki Does Math” SNOOKI OFFICIAL ANNOUNCES HER RETIREMENT

Snooki hasn’t been home in awhile due to Thanksgiving and Angelina’s wedding. They said they will be on schedule with the podcast with the exception of Christmas and New Years. Their live podcast tour in Boston, Atlantic City, Morristown NJ starts Jan 9 and say the ticket sales have been going amazing.
Snooki said her Thanksgiving was relaxing because her mom ordered it all from Shop Rite (a grocery store). Joey went to a friends house and drank the Cristal that Snooki gave him 10 years ago, because apparently it’s only good for 10 years. Joey talks about how he gets grossed out cleaning shrimp and raw turkey.
Snooki opens a bottle of wine because she said she has big news, but they will start by saying what they are thankful for. Joey states he is thankful for his and Snooki’s friendship and says his whole life has changed because of her. He then asks to borrow $20 and Snooki reminds him she bought a $2000 Louis Vuitton bag for him. Joey says he is thankful for his family, his health and Snooki cuts in saying Joey recently had scabies. Joey says “yeah, but I’m not dead yet.” Joey also says he’s glad he’s had his own apartment for 3 years. Snooki said she feels that because she likes her alone time despite Jionni being in the house and cuddling him (Joey vehemently proclaims “you don’t cuddle!” Which Snooki argues that they do), she understands why Joey likes living alone. Joey also says he is thankful for having so many platforms to express him true self and be funny. Finally, Joey jokes he is thankful for Deaner and Chris.
Snooki says she is thankful for her family because she likes being a mommy and loves her family, she loves her and Joey’s relationship, she loves their fans because they don’t judge them, she loves her job because she can be herself and no one else can do that except the Khardashians. She mentions the 10 year reunion of Jersey Shore as well.
SNOOKI’S BREAKING NEWS at 11:03 in the podcast, Snooki announces that Joey has known this new for 2 weeks, and said it’s a hard decision. Snooki says she knows for sure that she is making the right decision. SNOOKI SAYS SHE LOVES US AND DON’T HATE HER FOR HER DECISION, BUT SHE HAS TO DO WHATS BEST FOR HER AND THAT IS TO NOT RETURN FOR SEASON 4 OF JERSEY SHORE IF THERE IS ONE. She says there are a lot of reasons, but the main one being that she “just can’t do it anymore.” She says it’s really hard to leave her kids to film. Snooki says she threatens to quit every time they film and the producers always ask if she is going to quit. Snooki says she hates being away from her kids, and doesn’t like partying 3 days in a row- it’s not her life any more as a mom.
She says another reason is when she leaves her family to film, she wants to just have a good time and she’s putting herself out there and she wants to come off as a good person (Joey screams out “I’M A GOOD PERSON!l) and lately, on the show it’s been very drama. She says Jersey Shore is about family, making fun of each other and having a good time and lately everything is so serious. Fans are against one another when it comes to cast member aka “Team This” and “Team That.” She also doesn’t like the person she is being portrayed as.
Joey says he doesn’t know why it needs to be drama, people want the funny, wild stuff. Snooki agrees and says that she is not comfortable filming when it comes to drama and that’s why she is leaving the show, not only because of the death threats that she’s received, but the death threats her children have received because people are taking this too seriously. She also mentions that people want to boycott and picket her store and say it has bugs, and leave bad Yelp reviews.
Snooki has already told her roommates and they tried to talk her down, but she said she is “not about it” and removing herself from the narrative. She isn’t saying good bye to reality TV or being a public figure but she’s moving on from the show and that she still loves MTV, and hopes to work with them more. Snooki hopes everyone understands her decision. She was going to announced it on Thanksgiving but didn’t want publicists have to work on a holiday.
Snooki mentions she didn’t want to put out an Instagram post because it wouldn’t have emotions and a tone for it. Joey says he supports her and her standing up for what’s best for her and her family.
Snooki says there will probably be a season 4 and she just wants her roommates to have a good time and enough of the drama. They toast to their podcast tour. Joey jokes he will be replacing Snooki and she says he wouldn’t last a week without a Xanax treated breakdown.
Joey says he is getting his gynecomastia surgery in February by the plastic surgeon and says he needs to lose weight so he doesn’t look like Grimace. Joey says he loses weight quick on a low carb diet.
Joey and Nicole go on to talk about TV, Movies, current news and celebrity gossip, including multiple sexual and graphic stories including beastiality. However, Joey is repeatedly interrupted by Snooki’s children Giovanni and Lorenzo walking in and asking her questions. They then go through multiple bad date stories submitted by listeners.
A general discussion thred on the announcement can be found HERE
Previous podcast episode highlights can be found HERE
submitted by AngelInThePit to jerseyshore [link] [comments]


2019.10.17 01:55 LazerusLong2018 Non-Official Official position on Naturism


The topic of the "Official Position" of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints on non-sexual nudity has been discussed and debated by many both for and against naturism. Some have tried to draw some kind of inferences from one statement or other. However to date the truth is there is actually no official statement or stance by any church leaders on the matter, either for or against Naturism/Non-sexual nudity. While i have heard of at least one instance where someone caught a General Authority and asked a quick question on it only to get a quick conservative response on the matter. Most telling though is the story done by Channel 2 News (Utah TV station) a few months back on the topic; the reporter approached the church offices and asked directly about the matter only to be told there was no official position.
Simply put there is absolutely no condemnation (or support) for Naturism/non-sexual nudity by any of the leaders of the LDS church in any official stance. While many lower leaders tend to strongly condemn anything even resembling nudity they do so purely on their own and without blessing or censure from the church headquarters.
And so what do we do when there is no "official guidance" or direction on the matter? We do as the prophets and apostles have taught we look to the scriptures. But here again they are devoid of any direct reference to the matter. We are once again left to make inferences from what is stated or occurs. Many Christian naturist sites have long discussed the various verses that talk of nudity from Adam and Eve to King David, King Saul and the prophets, Isaiah and even Peter. In these verses there is direct nudity involved and no condemnation (actually one commanded situation of nudity). The common sense analysis might lead one to accept the concept that in God's eyes non-sexual nudity is not sinful or evil but perhaps just part of life and in the most conservative view neither good nor bad. But we must also consider the verses found in Leviticus 18 where it talks of "uncovering" ones "nakedness". This is probably the closest anyone will come to anything in the scriptures that can be considered touching the matter. However, many Hebrew/Bible scholars indicate that this is intact a poor translation and actually refers to sexual sins of incest, homosexuality and beastiality. If we take this interpretation of the verses then there is no official scripture anywhere that directly deals with nudity in the negative. Well perhaps the scriptures that talk about providing clothing for the poor and naked (covering their nakedness). In this we merely need to understand a little bit of the culture and environment to recognize that it is not actually condemning nudity at all but only expressing a need for those of means to ensure that the poor have the ability to get or retain necessary protective clothing and/or not be required by their circumstances to be nude. There is no illusion to nudity itself being evil or wrong.
And so if the scriptures are devoid of any direct statement on the matter and the church leadership in this dispensation is just as silent (or more so) on the matter where to do we draw our understanding of the matter? It can only come as the prophets and apostles have taught us to do; namely to study it out, ponder and pray on the matter individually. We are left to our own to seek out and receive guidance from our Heavenly Father on the topic. When this happens it is not up to any of us to say what is right or wrong for anyone else, to pass judgement on any one else's decision or to press our views onto anyone else. We are to do the same as we have been guided to do with Tithes and offerings as well as other similar issues; we determine between ourselves and our Heavenly Father as to what is right and what if any limitations there are to be.
My personal opinion is that we will not see any "official" position put out by the GA's as any position will become a bombshell and have significant repercussions. Perhaps during the Millennium people might be in a position to better understand and accept a position on the topic of non-sexual nudity but until then it'll never be a consideration.
Read the Discussion thread on LDS Skinny-Dippers Forum
submitted by LazerusLong2018 to ldsnaturists [link] [comments]


2019.10.14 19:16 violent10denseas Gonzo Journalism Piece About My Experiences As A Performance Artist In Eugene

I may be leaving soon. I have no confirmation of this, just vague synchronicities of my fellow inmates of CATC saying they’re getting discharged on such-and-such a date. Naturally, this means that I am going to be leaving any day now.
Even if I am wrong, my daily routine is almost exactly the same, so whether I am really departing my mental health inpatient stay a week or month from now, this diary entry will still hold true. As of right now, I have spent two weeks at CATC. This is following another two weeks at Unity, which was a much more traditional inpatient facility.
With over a month of tallys marking the days in my mental cell wall, this has been my longest inpatient stay by just over two weeks. This is my second stay in Oregon, with countless more stays in New York. The latter mostly wanted to kick me out as soon as possible, partially because my disdain of medication made me treat the emergency room as a revolving door, and partially because I used to be a mischievous, lying addict.
The fact that I sincerely want to continue this new cocktail of medications should speak volumes as to how far I’ve come since my early 20’s. Being a year away from my 30’s (God that makes me feel old) comes with a little more wisdom, and part of that has to do with making peace with the past, letting go of unhelpful habits, and stopping complete servitude to the aliens controlling my reality.
Being schizoaffective adds a number of fun loop-de-loops on the roller coaster that is my life. I checked myself into the emergency room at Good Samaritan on the basic of wanting to kill myself. I’m sure talking about serial killing during the intake process made them wary for a number of reasons, but the truth is I was a loose cannon ready to go off. I had been throwing myself in front of traffic, almost jumped off a bridge, and had been screaming at the top of my lungs at all hours of the day while homeless here in Portland.
Mental health has been a long-running battle of mine, having been originally diagnosed with schizophrenia for my drug induced hallucinations and brazen lying at the age of 20. Having little control of my life and being forced to live with my dad due to a lack of agency on my part, I sunk into a deep depression. It was only the unrivaled trust in the invisible blue aliens which create the synchronicities of my life combined with the help of a friend, a true angel in the darkness, that led to me learning to juggle.
Keeping a long story short, that was the crux of the reasons I wound up in Oregon to begin with. I knew I needed to get out of Syracuse. I was being harassed for starting to express my feminine side, regularly being called a “shim” in the process, and the synchronicities told me that I had a new life with my performance arts just waiting for me on the West Coast.
I came with such high hopes, but regardless all my good intentions, my sex cult was not as fruitful as it should have been. Despite arriving by greyhound, it’s safe to say that I had a rough landing in Eugene. I chose the Emerald City city because it was the first place I lived on the west coast. Two years previous, I got a job writing for a nonprofit called Earth Nation. It turns out they were a cult. This is not to be confused with my own cult, The Secret Society of Shapeshifters, where we worship Satan and practice incestual beastiality.
Don’t worry, we only have sex with animals we are related to.
With memories of how free-thinking the population of Eugene was, I went to work on my performance arts routine right away. I didn’t have much else to worry about. There was plenty of food with conscious programs like the Burrito Brigade and others feeding the homeless. The entire tree-filled town radiated a positive vibe, as if it were still the sixties.
The art that dominated building sides and sidewalks definitely told the story of a city that was full of love and compassion. Everything was colorful, and flowers could be found in planters all over downtown. There was even one bear statue which seemed to have been made for me, as it has a space just large enough for Peppermint, my pink penguin plushie.
At the bus stop, I received a ton of help from an older gentleman who told me about this and that service that was available, and pointed to a church where I got breakfast one Sunday and met someone with connections to the Manson family. We spoke about the possibility of ghost-writing his mother’s story, but I never got the chance to reach out to him.
On a different day, he told me that there was an improv group just a couple blocks away that helped people with disabilities integrate into the community. They apparently met every Saturday, but I was only able to attend one session. It was a load of fun seeing what other people would come up with for various prompts, and one woman recorded a completely unique sax solo there on the spot: one of a kind! Overall, it was an incredible activity for people of all abilities to come together and find common ground.
Being exhausted, my juggling and rapping were not on point, but it didn’t matter that I fumbled a bunch. My act went over great, getting tons of smiles from the crowd and giving me plenty of opportunities to make friends. One thing I have learned from my experiences is that networking is crucial while homeless. You never know who or what will give you a leg up. Keeping an open mind and staying positive is key to making it through to greener fields.
That was one of many reasons I’ve invested so much into performance art: it creates so many new avenues to approach people and start conversations. While some people may have thought that I was the new village idiot, I had some great successes in exploring self-expression and entertaining others starting on my first day. I didn’t have much of a plan in terms of what routine and where to set up, but that was the whole point. I would learn through experimentation and gain more than just experience: I would be growing myself.
Performance art is more than just a hobby for me. It saved my life. After what seemed like a lifetime living in isolation, my speech and social skills began to atrophy several years ago. Fear that everyone was a CIA agent prevented me from spending any real period of time outside my own bedroom. The world seemed like such an evil place: a reflection of the abuse I endured by my father. It was only through my rational grit to consciously recondition myself that I have been able to get this far.
Juggling gave me my first sense of identity, which then allowed me to build my confidence and try interacting with others again. I have always known that I was behind the eight-ball as far as my mental health was concerned. One such strategy I picked up while going out and juggling is to talk to myself, or the aliens, or Jane (the fictional AI at the NSA that hounds me day and night). I let go of the need to be perfect that I picked up from being raised by a narcissist and started acting crazy.
Hey, if I have to wear this label the doctor’s put on me, then I might as well go all out. How I haven’t been carted away by men in nice clean coats while in a straight jacket is a miracle to me!
Oh wait...
One of my favorite acts was doing magick. Outside the library, a stick became a magick wand that allowed me to easily interact with the muggles, witches, and wizards of Eugene. With a simple flowchart of how to respond to the ensuing yes or no answer from the person I approached, I was able to start practicing real charisma and filter interesting people from the people who would never understand me to begin with.
“Excuse me, do you know any magick spells?”
If yes:
“Wonderful! I was wondering if you knew one to help me meet open-minded people.”
If no:
“Would you like to learn a trick?”
And if they say yes, I go about doing my disappearing spell.
Taps head
Oh shucks, I seem to have forgotten it.
One event I won’t forget for a long time is the Whitaker Block Party. What originally started as a small block party had evolved over the years to an annual blast that swallowed an entire chunk of the city. The crowd was enormous, which didn’t bother me in the slightest because I was so excited to try out all sorts of new ways to play. I arrived early, and spent the first hour wandering around, taking everything in. Vendors were plastered all across several blocks. Even before the people came, I knew this was going to be a massive event, given how many portapotties there were.
As things heated up, I started juggling; first to music, and then to proselytize my cult. One of these was more successful than the other, but regardless I had a devilish time advertising with both Peppermint and Perry. Perry was our original leader, before I inherited his title of Almighty, Supreme, Legally-Greater-Than-God Megapope of Hyper-Divine Origin. Perry is also a platypus.
As I tired, I started phase two of interacting with the crowd. I had so much fun playfully hitting on the sea of people by asking where they got their kneecaps from. Those with unnatural hair color were clearly aliens; maybe they could hook me up with my extraterrestrial handlers who put that damned chip in my head that broke and won’t stop playing I Love Lucy repeats!
This sort of charade lasted the rest of the day. I didn’t have any money, so I couldn’t enjoy any of the food that was sold there, but I did get a free watermelon slice. As dusk settled in, and I began running out of new people to talk about my kneecap collection with, I mosied over to a nearby house, where I had been invited to stay for hotdogs and music. There I sat, resting from a long day in the sun. The band was excellent, radiating psychedelic vibes as women painted the sidewalk with chalk drawings. If I had the chance to stay in Eugene longer, I would have certainly stumbled across a group of psychonauts who are also being guided by the aliens to destroy the Illuminati.
Alas, I had some difficulty staying at the Mission there. If I were to make a suggestion, it would be to get rid of the penis room. That’s the room where you have to get naked with men every night in order to stay there. Not exactly the most comfortable feeling when you have your own dysphoria to combat. When I first saw that, I had a moment of revulsion, then my paranoid mind kicked in and I kicked myself out before I caused a problem from an explosive episode.
I was making due with staying on the streets of Eugene. Then, for no apparent reason. I was run out of town! Maybe it had something to do with soliciting a man to lease his dog to our sex cult. Ok, it was because I was starting to cross some boundaries that I felt comfortable crossing, given how accepting I found the hometown of the Ducks to be compared to my own hometown. I couldn’t even talk about incest in Syracuse without the police talking to me to politely tell me to stop asking random people obscene questions.
Being perfectly honest, I don’t know what came over me that night. Even though I was doing everything right, I still had yet to make a single connection. A profound sense of inferiority and inadequacy consumed my mind, and I found my behavior bordering on sociopathic. I shoved a man and (presumably) his girlfriend, then had a field day coldly staring at him as he erupted in my face, unable to throw the first punch.
If I have to go on the stand, I will firmly state that I believe something was amiss that night. I can suspect psychotronic influence by the CIA, but obviously I will never be able to prove that. It wouldn’t be the first time they sabotaged me in such a manner. This is why positivity is so important amongst light workers. The evil forces of this world and others will take advantage of any darkness within you, turning you on your own head, making you your own worst enemy. The only solution is to conquer the ego, so that temptation cannot warp your reality as it did mine.
This has been a guiding principle here in CATC as well. With every day being the exact same, it can be easy to fall deep into a depression. There are many days where I don’t even want to get out of bed. But I manage with a positive mindset. With our minds as complex as they are, a single good thought can go a long way into sending us towards where we want to go. Which is why I am positive that I am leaving soon.
submitted by violent10denseas to Eugene [link] [comments]


2019.10.14 19:06 violent10denseas Gonzo Journalism Piece From Inside The Hospital

I may be leaving soon. I have no confirmation of this, just vague synchronicities of my fellow inmates of CATC saying they’re getting discharged on such-and-such a date. Naturally, this means that I am going to be leaving any day now.
Even if I am wrong, my daily routine is almost exactly the same, so whether I am really departing my mental health inpatient stay a week or month from now, this diary entry will still hold true. As of right now, I have spent two weeks at CATC. This is following another two weeks at Unity, which was a much more traditional inpatient facility.
With over a month of tallys marking the days in my mental cell wall, this has been my longest inpatient stay by just over two weeks. This is my second stay in Oregon, with countless more stays in New York. The latter mostly wanted to kick me out as soon as possible, partially because my disdain of medication made me treat the emergency room as a revolving door, and partially because I used to be a mischievous, lying addict.
The fact that I sincerely want to continue this new cocktail of medications should speak volumes as to how far I’ve come since my early 20’s. Being a year away from my 30’s (God that makes me feel old) comes with a little more wisdom, and part of that has to do with making peace with the past, letting go of unhelpful habits, and stopping complete servitude to the aliens controlling my reality.
Being schizoaffective adds a number of fun loop-de-loops on the roller coaster that is my life. I checked myself into the emergency room at Good Samaritan on the basic of wanting to kill myself. I’m sure talking about serial killing during the intake process made them wary for a number of reasons, but the truth is I was a loose cannon ready to go off. I had been throwing myself in front of traffic, almost jumped off a bridge, and had been screaming at the top of my lungs at all hours of the day while homeless here in Portland.
Mental health has been a long-running battle of mine, having been originally diagnosed with schizophrenia for my drug induced hallucinations and brazen lying at the age of 20. Having little control of my life and being forced to live with my dad due to a lack of agency on my part, I sunk into a deep depression. It was only the unrivaled trust in the invisible blue aliens which create the synchronicities of my life combined with the help of a friend, a true angel in the darkness, that led to me learning to juggle.
Keeping a long story short, that was the crux of the reasons I wound up in Oregon to begin with. I knew I needed to get out of Syracuse. I was being harassed for starting to express my feminine side, regularly being called a “shim” in the process, and the synchronicities told me that I had a new life with my performance arts just waiting for me on the West Coast.
I came with such high hopes, but regardless all my good intentions, my sex cult was not as fruitful as it should have been. Despite arriving by greyhound, it’s safe to say that I had a rough landing in Eugene. I chose the Emerald City city because it was the first place I lived on the west coast. Two years previous, I got a job writing for a nonprofit called Earth Nation. It turns out they were a cult. This is not to be confused with my own cult, The Secret Society of Shapeshifters, where we worship Satan and practice incestual beastiality.
Don’t worry, we only have sex with animals we are related to.
With memories of how free-thinking the population of Eugene was, I went to work on my performance arts routine right away. I didn’t have much else to worry about. There was plenty of food with conscious programs like the Burrito Brigade and others feeding the homeless. The entire tree-filled town radiated a positive vibe, as if it were still the sixties.
The art that dominated building sides and sidewalks definitely told the story of a city that was full of love and compassion. Everything was colorful, and flowers could be found in planters all over downtown. There was even one bear statue which seemed to have been made for me, as it has a space just large enough for Peppermint, my pink penguin plushie.
At the bus stop, I received a ton of help from an older gentleman who told me about this and that service that was available, and pointed to a church where I got breakfast one Sunday and met someone with connections to the Manson family. We spoke about the possibility of ghost-writing his mother’s story, but I never got the chance to reach out to him.
On a different day, he told me that there was an improv group just a couple blocks away that helped people with disabilities integrate into the community. They apparently met every Saturday, but I was only able to attend one session. It was a load of fun seeing what other people would come up with for various prompts, and one woman recorded a completely unique sax solo there on the spot: one of a kind! Overall, it was an incredible activity for people of all abilities to come together and find common ground.
Being exhausted, my juggling and rapping were not on point, but it didn’t matter that I fumbled a bunch. My act went over great, getting tons of smiles from the crowd and giving me plenty of opportunities to make friends. One thing I have learned from my experiences is that networking is crucial while homeless. You never know who or what will give you a leg up. Keeping an open mind and staying positive is key to making it through to greener fields.
That was one of many reasons I’ve invested so much into performance art: it creates so many new avenues to approach people and start conversations. While some people may have thought that I was the new village idiot, I had some great successes in exploring self-expression and entertaining others starting on my first day. I didn’t have much of a plan in terms of what routine and where to set up, but that was the whole point. I would learn through experimentation and gain more than just experience: I would be growing myself.
Performance art is more than just a hobby for me. It saved my life. After what seemed like a lifetime living in isolation, my speech and social skills began to atrophy several years ago. Fear that everyone was a CIA agent prevented me from spending any real period of time outside my own bedroom. The world seemed like such an evil place: a reflection of the abuse I endured by my father. It was only through my rational grit to consciously recondition myself that I have been able to get this far.
Juggling gave me my first sense of identity, which then allowed me to build my confidence and try interacting with others again. I have always known that I was behind the eight-ball as far as my mental health was concerned. One such strategy I picked up while going out and juggling is to talk to myself, or the aliens, or Jane (the fictional AI at the NSA that hounds me day and night). I let go of the need to be perfect that I picked up from being raised by a narcissist and started acting crazy.
Hey, if I have to wear this label the doctor’s put on me, then I might as well go all out. How I haven’t been carted away by men in nice clean coats while in a straight jacket is a miracle to me!
Oh wait...
One of my favorite acts was doing magick. Outside the library, a stick became a magick wand that allowed me to easily interact with the muggles, witches, and wizards of Eugene. With a simple flowchart of how to respond to the ensuing yes or no answer from the person I approached, I was able to start practicing real charisma and filter interesting people from the people who would never understand me to begin with.
“Excuse me, do you know any magick spells?”
If yes:
“Wonderful! I was wondering if you knew one to help me meet open-minded people.”
If no:
“Would you like to learn a trick?”
And if they say yes, I go about doing my disappearing spell.
Taps head
Oh shucks, I seem to have forgotten it.
One event I won’t forget for a long time is the Whitaker Block Party. What originally started as a small block party had evolved over the years to an annual blast that swallowed an entire chunk of the city. The crowd was enormous, which didn’t bother me in the slightest because I was so excited to try out all sorts of new ways to play. I arrived early, and spent the first hour wandering around, taking everything in. Vendors were plastered all across several blocks. Even before the people came, I knew this was going to be a massive event, given how many portapotties there were.
As things heated up, I started juggling; first to music, and then to proselytize my cult. One of these was more successful than the other, but regardless I had a devilish time advertising with both Peppermint and Perry. Perry was our original leader, before I inherited his title of Almighty, Supreme, Legally-Greater-Than-God Megapope of Hyper-Divine Origin. Perry is also a platypus.
As I tired, I started phase two of interacting with the crowd. I had so much fun playfully hitting on the sea of people by asking where they got their kneecaps from. Those with unnatural hair color were clearly aliens; maybe they could hook me up with my extraterrestrial handlers who put that damned chip in my head that broke and won’t stop playing I Love Lucy repeats!
This sort of charade lasted the rest of the day. I didn’t have any money, so I couldn’t enjoy any of the food that was sold there, but I did get a free watermelon slice. As dusk settled in, and I began running out of new people to talk about my kneecap collection with, I mosied over to a nearby house, where I had been invited to stay for hotdogs and music. There I sat, resting from a long day in the sun. The band was excellent, radiating psychedelic vibes as women painted the sidewalk with chalk drawings. If I had the chance to stay in Eugene longer, I would have certainly stumbled across a group of psychonauts who are also being guided by the aliens to destroy the Illuminati.
Alas, I had some difficulty staying at the Mission there. If I were to make a suggestion, it would be to get rid of the penis room. That’s the room where you have to get naked with men every night in order to stay there. Not exactly the most comfortable feeling when you have your own dysphoria to combat. When I first saw that, I had a moment of revulsion, then my paranoid mind kicked in and I kicked myself out before I caused a problem from an explosive episode.
I was making due with staying on the streets of Eugene. Then, for no apparent reason. I was run out of town! Maybe it had something to do with soliciting a man to lease his dog to our sex cult. Ok, it was because I was starting to cross some boundaries that I felt comfortable crossing, given how accepting I found the hometown of the Ducks to be compared to my own hometown. I couldn’t even talk about incest in Syracuse without the police talking to me to politely tell me to stop asking random people obscene questions.
Being perfectly honest, I don’t know what came over me that night. Even though I was doing everything right, I still had yet to make a single connection. A profound sense of inferiority and inadequacy consumed my mind, and I found my behavior bordering on sociopathic. I shoved a man and (presumably) his girlfriend, then had a field day coldly staring at him as he erupted in my face, unable to throw the first punch.
If I have to go on the stand, I will firmly state that I believe something was amiss that night. I can suspect psychotronic influence by the CIA, but obviously I will never be able to prove that. It wouldn’t be the first time they sabotaged me in such a manner. This is why positivity is so important amongst light workers. The evil forces of this world and others will take advantage of any darkness within you, turning you on your own head, making you your own worst enemy. The only solution is to conquer the ego, so that temptation cannot warp your reality as it did mine.
This has been a guiding principle here in CATC as well. With every day being the exact same, it can be easy to fall deep into a depression. There are many days where I don’t even want to get out of bed. But I manage with a positive mindset. With our minds as complex as they are, a single good thought can go a long way into sending us towards where we want to go. Which is why I am positive that I am leaving soon.
submitted by violent10denseas to mentalhealth [link] [comments]


2019.10.14 19:05 Buckheedfuckface Gonzo Journalism From Inside The Hospital

I may be leaving soon. I have no confirmation of this, just vague synchronicities of my fellow inmates of CATC saying they’re getting discharged on such-and-such a date. Naturally, this means that I am going to be leaving any day now.
Even if I am wrong, my daily routine is almost exactly the same, so whether I am really departing my mental health inpatient stay a week or month from now, this diary entry will still hold true. As of right now, I have spent two weeks at CATC. This is following another two weeks at Unity, which was a much more traditional inpatient facility.
With over a month of tallys marking the days in my mental cell wall, this has been my longest inpatient stay by just over two weeks. This is my second stay in Oregon, with countless more stays in New York. The latter mostly wanted to kick me out as soon as possible, partially because my disdain of medication made me treat the emergency room as a revolving door, and partially because I used to be a mischievous, lying addict.
The fact that I sincerely want to continue this new cocktail of medications should speak volumes as to how far I’ve come since my early 20’s. Being a year away from my 30’s (God that makes me feel old) comes with a little more wisdom, and part of that has to do with making peace with the past, letting go of unhelpful habits, and stopping complete servitude to the aliens controlling my reality.
Being schizoaffective adds a number of fun loop-de-loops on the roller coaster that is my life. I checked myself into the emergency room at Good Samaritan on the basic of wanting to kill myself. I’m sure talking about serial killing during the intake process made them wary for a number of reasons, but the truth is I was a loose cannon ready to go off. I had been throwing myself in front of traffic, almost jumped off a bridge, and had been screaming at the top of my lungs at all hours of the day while homeless here in Portland.
Mental health has been a long-running battle of mine, having been originally diagnosed with schizophrenia for my drug induced hallucinations and brazen lying at the age of 20. Having little control of my life and being forced to live with my dad due to a lack of agency on my part, I sunk into a deep depression. It was only the unrivaled trust in the invisible blue aliens which create the synchronicities of my life combined with the help of a friend, a true angel in the darkness, that led to me learning to juggle.
Keeping a long story short, that was the crux of the reasons I wound up in Oregon to begin with. I knew I needed to get out of Syracuse. I was being harassed for starting to express my feminine side, regularly being called a “shim” in the process, and the synchronicities told me that I had a new life with my performance arts just waiting for me on the West Coast.
I came with such high hopes, but regardless all my good intentions, my sex cult was not as fruitful as it should have been. Despite arriving by greyhound, it’s safe to say that I had a rough landing in Eugene. I chose the Emerald City city because it was the first place I lived on the west coast. Two years previous, I got a job writing for a nonprofit called Earth Nation. It turns out they were a cult. This is not to be confused with my own cult, The Secret Society of Shapeshifters, where we worship Satan and practice incestual beastiality.
Don’t worry, we only have sex with animals we are related to.
With memories of how free-thinking the population of Eugene was, I went to work on my performance arts routine right away. I didn’t have much else to worry about. There was plenty of food with conscious programs like the Burrito Brigade and others feeding the homeless. The entire tree-filled town radiated a positive vibe, as if it were still the sixties.
The art that dominated building sides and sidewalks definitely told the story of a city that was full of love and compassion. Everything was colorful, and flowers could be found in planters all over downtown. There was even one bear statue which seemed to have been made for me, as it has a space just large enough for Peppermint, my pink penguin plushie.
At the bus stop, I received a ton of help from an older gentleman who told me about this and that service that was available, and pointed to a church where I got breakfast one Sunday and met someone with connections to the Manson family. We spoke about the possibility of ghost-writing his mother’s story, but I never got the chance to reach out to him.
On a different day, he told me that there was an improv group just a couple blocks away that helped people with disabilities integrate into the community. They apparently met every Saturday, but I was only able to attend one session. It was a load of fun seeing what other people would come up with for various prompts, and one woman recorded a completely unique sax solo there on the spot: one of a kind! Overall, it was an incredible activity for people of all abilities to come together and find common ground.
Being exhausted, my juggling and rapping were not on point, but it didn’t matter that I fumbled a bunch. My act went over great, getting tons of smiles from the crowd and giving me plenty of opportunities to make friends. One thing I have learned from my experiences is that networking is crucial while homeless. You never know who or what will give you a leg up. Keeping an open mind and staying positive is key to making it through to greener fields.
That was one of many reasons I’ve invested so much into performance art: it creates so many new avenues to approach people and start conversations. While some people may have thought that I was the new village idiot, I had some great successes in exploring self-expression and entertaining others starting on my first day. I didn’t have much of a plan in terms of what routine and where to set up, but that was the whole point. I would learn through experimentation and gain more than just experience: I would be growing myself.
Performance art is more than just a hobby for me. It saved my life. After what seemed like a lifetime living in isolation, my speech and social skills began to atrophy several years ago. Fear that everyone was a CIA agent prevented me from spending any real period of time outside my own bedroom. The world seemed like such an evil place: a reflection of the abuse I endured by my father. It was only through my rational grit to consciously recondition myself that I have been able to get this far.
Juggling gave me my first sense of identity, which then allowed me to build my confidence and try interacting with others again. I have always known that I was behind the eight-ball as far as my mental health was concerned. One such strategy I picked up while going out and juggling is to talk to myself, or the aliens, or Jane (the fictional AI at the NSA that hounds me day and night). I let go of the need to be perfect that I picked up from being raised by a narcissist and started acting crazy.
Hey, if I have to wear this label the doctor’s put on me, then I might as well go all out. How I haven’t been carted away by men in nice clean coats while in a straight jacket is a miracle to me!
Oh wait...
One of my favorite acts was doing magick. Outside the library, a stick became a magick wand that allowed me to easily interact with the muggles, witches, and wizards of Eugene. With a simple flowchart of how to respond to the ensuing yes or no answer from the person I approached, I was able to start practicing real charisma and filter interesting people from the people who would never understand me to begin with.
“Excuse me, do you know any magick spells?”
If yes:
“Wonderful! I was wondering if you knew one to help me meet open-minded people.”
If no:
“Would you like to learn a trick?”
And if they say yes, I go about doing my disappearing spell.
Taps head
Oh shucks, I seem to have forgotten it.
One event I won’t forget for a long time is the Whitaker Block Party. What originally started as a small block party had evolved over the years to an annual blast that swallowed an entire chunk of the city. The crowd was enormous, which didn’t bother me in the slightest because I was so excited to try out all sorts of new ways to play. I arrived early, and spent the first hour wandering around, taking everything in. Vendors were plastered all across several blocks. Even before the people came, I knew this was going to be a massive event, given how many portapotties there were.
As things heated up, I started juggling; first to music, and then to proselytize my cult. One of these was more successful than the other, but regardless I had a devilish time advertising with both Peppermint and Perry. Perry was our original leader, before I inherited his title of Almighty, Supreme, Legally-Greater-Than-God Megapope of Hyper-Divine Origin. Perry is also a platypus.
As I tired, I started phase two of interacting with the crowd. I had so much fun playfully hitting on the sea of people by asking where they got their kneecaps from. Those with unnatural hair color were clearly aliens; maybe they could hook me up with my extraterrestrial handlers who put that damned chip in my head that broke and won’t stop playing I Love Lucy repeats!
This sort of charade lasted the rest of the day. I didn’t have any money, so I couldn’t enjoy any of the food that was sold there, but I did get a free watermelon slice. As dusk settled in, and I began running out of new people to talk about my kneecap collection with, I mosied over to a nearby house, where I had been invited to stay for hotdogs and music. There I sat, resting from a long day in the sun. The band was excellent, radiating psychedelic vibes as women painted the sidewalk with chalk drawings. If I had the chance to stay in Eugene longer, I would have certainly stumbled across a group of psychonauts who are also being guided by the aliens to destroy the Illuminati.
Alas, I had some difficulty staying at the Mission there. If I were to make a suggestion, it would be to get rid of the penis room. That’s the room where you have to get naked with men every night in order to stay there. Not exactly the most comfortable feeling when you have your own dysphoria to combat. When I first saw that, I had a moment of revulsion, then my paranoid mind kicked in and I kicked myself out before I caused a problem from an explosive episode.
I was making due with staying on the streets of Eugene. Then, for no apparent reason. I was run out of town! Maybe it had something to do with soliciting a man to lease his dog to our sex cult. Ok, it was because I was starting to cross some boundaries that I felt comfortable crossing, given how accepting I found the hometown of the Ducks to be compared to my own hometown. I couldn’t even talk about incest in Syracuse without the police talking to me to politely tell me to stop asking random people obscene questions.
Being perfectly honest, I don’t know what came over me that night. Even though I was doing everything right, I still had yet to make a single connection. A profound sense of inferiority and inadequacy consumed my mind, and I found my behavior bordering on sociopathic. I shoved a man and (presumably) his girlfriend, then had a field day coldly staring at him as he erupted in my face, unable to throw the first punch.
If I have to go on the stand, I will firmly state that I believe something was amiss that night. I can suspect psychotronic influence by the CIA, but obviously I will never be able to prove that. It wouldn’t be the first time they sabotaged me in such a manner. This is why positivity is so important amongst light workers. The evil forces of this world and others will take advantage of any darkness within you, turning you on your own head, making you your own worst enemy. The only solution is to conquer the ego, so that temptation cannot warp your reality as it did mine.
This has been a guiding principle here in CATC as well. With every day being the exact same, it can be easy to fall deep into a depression. There are many days where I don’t even want to get out of bed. But I manage with a positive mindset. With our minds as complex as they are, a single good thought can go a long way into sending us towards where we want to go. Which is why I am positive that I am leaving soon.
submitted by Buckheedfuckface to ShrugLifeSyndicate [link] [comments]


2019.09.27 01:06 ryu289 Why are homophobes willing to make up shit about homosexuals?

https://web.archive.org/web/20150106111938/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/12/22/sanity-prevails-in-massachusetts-gaol-hooray/
Kosilek is serving life in a men’s prison for strangling her wife, Cheryl Kosilek, to death soon after she began to transition from her male identity in 1990.[That’s right, her MALE identity! So both of these queers are men and one of them killed the other, before deciding to falsely pose as a woman as well!!!!]
No, no, he misread the situation. They were talking about this person transitioning, not his wife: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michelle_Kosilek
Oh and the wife assulted him.
A court has overturned the demand that American tax-payers fund a sex-change operation for a prison inmate. We hope this is a sign of the winds of change blowing across America, The madness of the LGBT era could be on the way out. But just listen to this story and how crazy the queers are. Robert Kosilek murdered his “wife” who was really a man, now pretends he is a woman too… VGB says “transgender” is a fraud. It is not a medical treatment and the taxpayer should never have to pay for it, even for a law-abiding citizen, let alone a vicious murderer. In fact doctors should be banned from carrying out such unnecessary operations. Robert Kosilek is mad and crazy queers should not be making our laws
Right...because a) this guy killed in sel defense & b) https://web.archive.org/web/20180902070724/https://genderanalysis.net/2018/01/evidence-of-health-benefits-of-medical-transition-gender-dysphoria-body-image-sexual-functioning-and-quality-of-life/
https://web.archive.org/web/20141221070636/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/11/14/honeymoon-murderer-sjhrien-dewani-was-homosexual-pervert/
https://www.reddit.com/GGdiscussion/comments/ete11k/billy_d_aka_oneangrygamer_has_returned_and_is_as/
There can be no doubt about the guilt of Shrien Dewani after CCTV footage showed him in a hotel talking to the man later convicted of murdering his wife Annie. And there can be no doubt about his motives. Shrien Dewani was a homosexual who should never have married this poor girl in the first place. He paid assassins in South Africa to murder her in 2010 so that he could go on with his life of deviance and revolting perversion.
Except the CCTV footage was doctored: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Anni_Dewani
VGB says: it will be a shame on South Africa if this man is acquitted. He is as guilty as hell and Annie Dewani was a VICTIM OF GAY BULLYING.
As so often QUEERS ARE GETTING AWAY WITH MURDER.
And off course it wasn't the case here.
Every time a pedo rapes boys he is accused of being gay as well, which is bs: http://homoresponse.blogspot.com/2011/05/countering-heterosexist-arguments.html#11
https://web.archive.org/web/20141116041220/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/09/
Now just think about this. Why would they drive all the way out there to ask him that? It looks to me as if John West must have known Evans and may even have been one of his previous “clients”. It was not likely he would proposition a random stranger in the countryside. But West was not in the mood. Maybe he was homosexual, or had been, but he did not want to pay for any services at that moment.Maybe he had no money. Maybe Evans asked too much.
VGB says: Hard to feel sorry for them isn’t it? If you were a member of John West’s family you would not be weeping for these two revolting thugs. Whether or not he was a fellow-homosexual (and the fact that he was found without his trousers suggests that he may have been) this was a callous and cowardly murder. Looks like one more example of how queers bully everyone including each other.
Even though two were married with wives...https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_John_Alan_West
https://web.archive.org/web/20150616135551/https://alessandrareflections.wordpress.com/violence-against-lgbt-individuals/
LGBTs perpetrate millions of acts of harm and violence in society, constantly, mostly with impunity.
From the study he uses...
Typically, heterosexual victims do not report abuse to the police because: (a) they do not believe the police will help; (b) they fear retaliation; (c) they do not want to get abusers in trouble; and (d) they think it is a private matter (Greenfield & Rand, 1998). Same-sex battering victims face additional obstacles to reporting with the threat of “outing” or making the lesbian and gay victims’ sexual orientation known to the public (Kuehnle & Sullivan, 2003). In addition, the gay community distrusts the police (Kirby, 1994; Letellier, 1994, Reed, 1989). Reed (1989) reported that victims of same-sex battering were both physically and verbally re-victimized by the police.
And later on...
Recent reviews suggest that the prevalence of IPV in same-sex couples is as high as the prevalence of IPV for women in opposite-sex relationships:
He cannot read apparently...
However, there are other studies that show something very interesting: a significant percentage of the women who have had relationships with both sexes started out having heterosexual relationships. Then they suffered violence. Then they turned to women. Isn’t it quite reasonable to assume the experience of violence they had with a man impacted their psychology to deform it towards wanting to be with a woman as perhaps what they would think is a non-violent partner?
So most ipv comes from opposite sex partners? Makes sense: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/29683080
So gays are beaten up by straights...
Off course they make up shit like using the gay panic defense: https://web.archive.org/web/20140926131844/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/08/12/free-brandon-mcinerney/
https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.uclalawreview.org/pdf/60-3-5.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwiVjaue3vzkAhUGUt8KHfvRC8UQFjABegQIBhAB&usg=AOvVaw1D3SMzF22pj8_wTyd8s3qD
Or here: https://web.archive.org/web/20140926231519/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/08/12/free-teonna-monae-brown/
The two black girls were not taken in by his false eyelashes, make-up and high heels, they saw at once he was a man, with stubble, however mixed-up he was about it, and they resented the way he had been behaving in the restaurant. They were there with their boyfriends and they accused Polis of staring at their men and trying to pick them up.
Wait...so they were jealous girlfriends? Let's see the police report...https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beating_of_Chrissy_Lee_Polis
said that she was going to use a restroom, when a female individual spat in her face. Then she and another female person started attacking Polis.
Ah...they followed her in...
What was not reported in the press was that Polis had a criminal record for attacking other people. In September 2006 in Baltimore he was charged with assaulting a woman called Samantha Stockman. The defence managed to get him acquitted. Again in 2008, Polis was arrested for beating up elderly man and this time he was convicted, but by means of plea bargaining the charge was reduced to “disorderly conduct” with a minimum sentence. He was actually a prostitute and a junkie, resorting to mugging when he could not pay for his drugs any other way. He never spent more than a few weeks in prison
Where did you get this? Your links show she was only guilty of disorderly conduct...and cops are biased against trans people. https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://transequality.org/sites/default/files/docs/resources/FailingToProtectAndServe_FullReport.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwi7ksrO5f3kAhXjkOAKHS6cBmoQFjABegQIARAB&usg=AOvVaw0f71MalnjvsPxwHEDnEtvL
Also she got no sentence but a fine...https://truebluenz.com/2011/04/23/mcdonalds-beating-victim-identified-as-christopher-lee-polis-cross-dressing-male/
The “gay” media is always making out that homosexuals and transsexuals are victims. No way – the truth is that they bully other people. Transsexuals get into violent situations because they behave in anti-social, unacceptable ways and violate the bounds of decency.
Like which to use the bathroom that matches their identity?
Stupid media like Wikipedia and Huffington Post talked about it as if Polis really was a woman, rather than being a disturbed person with delusions.
Transgender isn't a delusion: https://web.archive.org/web/20180902070724/https://genderanalysis.net/2018/01/evidence-of-health-benefits-of-medical-transition-gender-dysphoria-body-image-sexual-functioning-and-quality-of-life/
https://web.archive.org/web/20140821094126/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/06/12/queer-health-commissioner-knowingly-infected-two-other-men-with-hiv/
You thought a Health Commissioner would be a responsible, caring person who did not take risks? Not when they are queer. Here is one who lied about having HIV and passed on the disease to two other men on the queer pickup circuit. VGB says “My, my, they are such nice people!”
A San Francisco judge in 2003 found insufficient evidence to support charges that a former San Francisco health commissioner had intentionally infected sexual partners with the virus that causes AIDS.
Homophobes are illiterate apparently. Oh and he should ask why there is a heterosexual epidemic of aids in Russia. https://www.reddit.com/askgaybros/comments/cc3gnv/how_do_you_prove_that_aids_is_not_a_gay_disease/?
But Hill’s attorney, Peter Fitzpatrick, argued in court papers and before Tsenin that there was not enough evidence to show his client had intended to infect anyone. He said that the contacts between Hill and the two alleged victims, Thomas Lister andChristopher M., were “normal relationships.” [ As normal as hell. ]
As in no gay sex?
https://web.archive.org/web/20140821094126/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/05/29/more-about-brendan-bain-queers-cant-bear-to-hear-the-truth/
Ah, Brendan Bain: https://petchary.wordpress.com/2014/05/21/professor-brendan-bain-here-is-some-clarity/
https://web.archive.org/web/20140910235628/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/06/18/gay-hook-up-apps-tied-to-higher-std-infection-rates-study-medlineplus/
This ignores straights on tinder...
Thinks husband and wife should be on all legal papers thus can't be called husband or wife at home: https://web.archive.org/web/20150726093619/https://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2015/07/11/tcot-auspol-alert-dnc-queers-want-to-remove-husband-and-wife-from-law-culturalmarxism/
https://web.archive.org/web/20150730051607/https://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2015/07/10/subway-gay-pedophile-beastality-guy/
Jared Fogle molested little girls only fyi...
https://web.archive.org/web/20141028162738/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/10/28/lgbt-the-t-is-for-tyranny/ A twofer in this one: https://www.transadvocate.com/colleen-francis-and-the-infamous-evergreen-state-college-incident_n_10765.htm http://addictinginfo.com/2015/01/13/anti-lgbt-christian-pastors-fight-houston-equal-rights-ordinance-with-fake-petition-signatures/
https://web.archive.org/web/20141016201503/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/09/05/homosexuality-has-no-genetic-cause/
This one thinks homosexuality isn't viable from an evolutionary perspective nor does it have a genetic basis...wrong: https://www.quora.com/If-homosexuality-is-innate-genetic-how-has-it-survived-evolutionary-selection-given-that-a-homosexual-couple-produces-no-offspring-Wouldnt-an-evolution-based-standpoint-argue-that-homosexuality-is-developmental/answeJames-Pitt-1 overthebrainbow.com/blog/2017/1/7/wired-this-way-sexual-orientation-and-gender-in-the-brain
https://web.archive.org/web/20141015100024/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/09/05/states-urge-supreme-court-to-take-up-gay-marriage/
VGB: Here we go again. “Waa, waa, waa, waa!” “I can’t have my way so I’m going to scream and yell and beat my head on the floor until you give in.” Oh please, spare us your lame ass “born this way” mantra. Enough is enough. Go back to your closet, leave the queerness in there then you step out and get a damn life!
So you give special rights and privileges for straight couples only in violation of the first and 14th amendments?
https://web.archive.org/web/20140916030629/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/mates-marriage-horrifies-gay-rights-groups/
VGB: Funniest damn things I’ve read in quite a while. Seems that if anyone mocks queer marriage, the queers get all testy and pissy about it. Well, hell, they mock real marriage (one man, one woman) all the time so I see no problem with a little ribbing here. Rub in in guys, the queers deserve to see their own bullshit
You mean mock how homosexuals are treated like second class citizens and fight for equal rights?
https://web.archive.org/web/20140911120920/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/06/18/i-am-what-i-feel-the-new-definition-of-identity-opinion-lifesitenews/
Sigh...I have to show this again: https://web.archive.org/web/20150926035309/https://catholictrans.wordpress.com/2013/11/18/debunking-myth-11-sex-and-gender-are-straightforward/
https://web.archive.org/web/20141018162121/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/10/16/bullying-lesbian-mayor-declares-october-national-bullying-prevention-month/
VGB: Bullying Prevention Month Mayor? Where the hell is your brain carpet muncher? Your head must be between some carpet munchers legs. No wonder you can’t f’ing think straight. How in the hell did you even get elected witch? Oh, right, all the queers voted for your sorry ass. It figures. Houston TX is in big trouble with you around.
Again...http://addictinginfo.com/2015/01/13/anti-lgbt-christian-pastors-fight-houston-equal-rights-ordinance-with-fake-petition-signatures
https://web.archive.org/web/20141018165023/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/10/16/pedophiles-deserve-civil-rights-argues-ny-times-op-ed/
VGB: Yep, no slippery slope here. Pedophiles now think they have to have special rights. Who’s next….the one’s out screwing and being screwed by animals? Would not surprise me in the least.
Margo Kaplan, who teaches law at Rutgers University, used The New York Times as a platform to opine about the stigma pedophilia carries. The stigma, she laments, makes it difficult for adults with sexual attractions to children to get help
This is true: https://psmag.com/social-justice/facing-disturbing-truths-about-pedophilia-could-help-us-keep-kids-safer
They are also racist: https://web.archive.org/web/20140914052947/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/09/10/cardinal-u-s-creed-on-gay-marriage-means-christians-must-approve-it-or-be-punished-like-sharia
VGB: Poor widdle queers….always a victim…like the dumb nigers in Ferguson that caused all the problems. They were not the victims….they were the victimizers just the queers.
Look who's talking? https://www.reddit.com/skeptic/comments/byhd2l/homophobes_dont_belive_in_sourcing_their_claims/ Poor Christains...
https://web.archive.org/web/20141018190101/http://victimsofgaybullying.wordpress.com/2014/09/10/gay-activist-pleads-guilty-to-sexually-assaulting-boys/
VGB: Yet another Gay Rights Activist did it all for the sake of raping little boys. This is from WinteryKnight who’s research broke it that Mark Newton and Peter Truong (along with the Quadrant) were Gay Rights activists campaigning for gay marriage “for the sole purpose of Sexual Exploitation [of little boys]” to quote QLD Police Task Force Argos… Be sure to see all the MSM links he cites on his blogs. Will update with pictures shortly! Done!
https://fox17.com/news/local/records-tennessee-mom-who-killed-4-adopted-children-raised-kids-alone-for-11-years Sigh: http://homoresponse.blogspot.com/2011/05/countering-heterosexist-arguments.html#11 https://www.newsweek.com/anti-gay-preacher-stuns-congregation-confesses-molesting-underage-boy-1447795 https://friendlyatheist.patheos.com/2018/03/31/anti-gay-pastor-charged-with-molesting-8-kids-telling-them-to-sit-on-his-face/ https://friendlyatheist.patheos.com/2019/08/22/christian-couple-that-ran-gay-conversion-camps-arrested-for-child-trafficking/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/progressivesecularhumanist/2019/07/anti-gay-alabama-pastor-arrested-after-admitting-he-molested-underage-boys/ https://friendlyatheist.patheos.com/2018/09/21/pastor-gets-13-years-on-charges-that-he-sexually-abused-kids-impregnated-teen/ https://www.queerty.com/antigay-priest-accused-sex-abuse-uses-altar-boys-didnt-molest-show-innocence-20190722 https://www.13wmaz.com/article/news/crime/former-centerville-pastor-arrested-again-on-charges-of-child-molestation/93-d9b46abc-3d7f-45ed-8f54-620bef2fa7ec
https://donotlink.it/KaNra
Yet again, a member of the glbt community utterly destroys a safe haven for children, and gives the phrase "tickle me Elmo," a whole new and disgusting meaning. This homophile, Kevin Clash, has admitted to sexual contact with a 16-year-old boy when he was 45!!
Wrong again: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/elmo-puppeteer-kevin-clash-cleared-698645 https://abcnews.go.com/US/elmo-accuser-recants-allegations-underage-sex-kevin-clash/story?id=17710758
https://donotlink.it/WOAgE
This commercial is so quick, concise, and to-the-point that the homofascists already hate it. LOL!
By using a man in drag as a steryotype? https://www.reddit.com/transpassing/
https://donotlink.it/lGLQ4
This is what happens when sexual sanity is abandoned. First, he doesn't want to be a man anymore. Now he wants to create a harem of little girls. And, before I get hate emails. I know that not all "transgendered" men want to molest children. Click here for the full story.
The person he is talking about isn't even a pedophile: https://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/john-mark-karr-man-claimed-kill-jonbenet-ramsey-resurfaces-time-woman-article-1.180468
https://donotlink.it/5WjnX
Apparently lesbians shouldn't be allowed to kiss
https://donotlink.it/lGbv4 Story says boys can choose to marry boys and girls...homophobes think boys are told they love boys because they play with them when it didn't happen...also the story and school are anyomous..
https://donotlink.it/wvp4o
I love statistics because they enable me to speak accurately. This number, 99.93%, is a cherished piece of information for me.
OVER 99.9% of us are born male or female. That's it people. That's science. That's reality. The glbt community hates the reality of the Word of God, and now, science. Dear member and supporter of the glbt community... Snap out of it.
Where did you get your stat? https://www.nature.com/news/sex-redefined-1.16943
https://donotlink.it/XEeGG
We're approaching the tenth anniversary (Sept.26th) of the murder of Jesse Dirkhising. This young boy was held hostage and repeatedly raped by a pair of gay men and died as a result of their raping him, yet his death received less than one percent of the coverage that the death of Matthew Shepard did. It's clear to me that the mainstream media didn't want to appear "homophobic" by shining the light of truth on this child's death. Amazing. The GLBT community is so feared by the mainstream media that two homosexual men can literally rape a young boy to death and be ignored by mainstream (ABC, CBS, CNN, and NBC) news sources. This is the type of injustice that empowers me, the rape of this young boy.
Guess what pedophila has nothing to do with homosexuality! http://homoresponse.blogspot.com/2011/05/countering-heterosexist-arguments.html#11 bishop-accountability.org/news2007/05_06/2007_06_29_Pietrzyk_HomosexualityAnd.htm
Stfu!
https://donotlink.it/Rn7En Ignoring how 18 year old boys often date 14 year old girls without consequences...
https://donotlink.it/46R2V
Off course no one got away with beastality... https://www.gaychristian101.com/Beastiality.html
https://donotlink.it/vgLVb Defends a lying preacher: https://spiritualsoundingboard.com/2014/01/13/street-evangelist-tony-miano-arrested-yet-again-is-it-about-his-story-or-his-story/
And yes sir you are bigoted...https://donotlink.it/WZpyo
https://donotlink.it/rwgG3 Stop pretending your reasoning isn't bigoted. You are lying and thus doing more than disagreeing...
https://donotlink.it/GqR5l
What you see in this picture is a man who decided he wanted to be a woman. After a series of cosmetic operations and silicone injections this is the result. Vile, vile vile. Makes you want to run a mile."
Look here moron: https://www.reddit.com/transpassing/
https://donotlink.it/mEWjM
Mark Smout of England, UK, is a horrible internet troll and oh by the way he is “gay”. His way of expressing himself is to send people delightful snapshots of his own penis, like the one below.
Except it came from here: https://www.google.com/search?tbs=sbi:AMhZZiuX4V9cJ08DYUfmycdnBRxNMut-bbHKh9VptHtML33e6KBA3SZrv1yUbvJEbKqiMkgzvghtqBlEXEg5nspBizHxkIcVGT89oitIaB_1e9fIY0KIKHfsq5kDRV6JVs4GLJtDIFbGC13GyLFEITqg7bv2KU2662VdJmmyrIGAxYdkE3VDb5Y7qlLcPT-o5QcURfwbmQKsOgOMsUe7GOd_1aSbZkEsXa5pBQhdUFnQ0PwwuAGmdj46-W5JajC1Hwfcj0nM1I0bBGtksglU7YAJ5nGrrcFycCPaCRASxgXzafYSSjM8YWC10gB9bd9qQ0fVgMtRiarD_12iLhWyGovUkLNzKHFgjFvsw
submitted by ryu289 to askgaybros [link] [comments]


2019.07.12 19:47 opiate-of-the-masses Depths of Depravity: The Beast

Author's note: The Depths of Depravity series is an anthology of short, stand-alone stories. They're written from a first- and second-person perspective, with the first-person character being a nameless, faceless, dominant man, and the second-person character a submissive woman. I've kept the physical descriptions of these characters as light as possible, so that the reader may project their own images onto them as freely as possible.
This story has themes of beastiality, watersports, cuckquean humiliation, cuckcake domination, misogyny, and objectification.
______________________________________________________________
It’s not your fault.
That’s what you tell yourself as you watch it. Your heart beating in rising trepidation. You remember my words clearly: “You’re not allowed to cum unless there is a cock in you.” I had repeated that when I had left three hours ago. It had served to remind you that you haven’t cum in two weeks.
Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since I had last come home, pushed you down on your knees, unzipped my pants and stuffed my hardening cock down your throat. You didn’t know why, but you’d welcomed the brutality. It was worth it to feel me inside you, even if it was just my cock filling the back of your throat. You’d take anything from me these days as long as it meant I gave you attention. It had become second nature to you by now: seeking validation from me, judging your worth by how much attention I give you, knowing that you don’t deserve it, that you are not enough. That you will never be enough. That’s why I was with her right now.
You hadn’t met her yet, but you’d seen me when I talk to her on the phone. You’ve seen how much faster I cum in your mouth when I look at the pictures she sends me. You’re happy to offer your face for me to fuck while I do that. Perhaps you hope that I will do more than kick you aside after you’ve cum. Perhaps you know those times are the only times when you can touch yourself and cum. The humiliation is intoxicating to you - touching yourself desperately, trying to cum before me, while I look at pictures of another woman with my cock in your eager, slutty, mouth.
You know I am with her right now. You know that she deserves my cock a lot more than you do. You know she deserves my attention more than you do. And you know I will bring her back to our apartment after our date tonight. You know I will fuck her in the same bed we share while you sit on the floor and watch us. You know I will be even harder knowing you are watching. Knowing what it does to you. Perhaps I will tell her to humiliate you as well. Perhaps I will tell you to thank her and tell her she is superior. It will kill you inside to admit that, but the thought of doing it also arouses you beyond measure. Your pussy is wet. Your clit is throbbing. But you can’t cum. Not without a cock in you.
It’s not your fault.
These thoughts stumble through your head as you watch my German Shepherd lounge on its mat. His meal bowl is right next to yours - you were used to eating from that by now. When I had first told you that was going to be part of your training, you had been shocked. How could I suggest that? How could I lower you down to that level? Of course, your confusion was short lived as I showed you why that was where you belong. As I held my foot out and you humped your desperate pussy on it while looking up at me, with no hesitation, your desperation dripping from your eyes. And as I allowed you to cum with your clit rubbing against my shin, you knew you were nothing more than a bitch constantly in heat. So you accepted your place besides my pet.
Even he got to cum whenever he wanted. In that way, even a dog was superior to you. It looked at you quizzically as you crawled next to it on all fours and bent down to sip some of the water from your bowl. As you lower your head and raise your ass, perhaps the smell of your wet cunt piqued his interest. A small growl as it looked up, panting.
It’s not your fault.
You continue drinking. Your cunt gets wetter as you feel it moving, getting up. Your heart is racing. What are you doing? Is this what you want? Is this what you’ve become? A desperate slut who is willing to get fucked by a dog just to soothe her burning cunt? Just to feel wanted by someone - something - while her owner is out with a younger, hotter, woman?
My words come back to you. “You’re not allowed to cum unless there is a cock in you.”
Your thoughts are interrupted by a strange sensation. You gasp as you feel the wetness between your ass. Small laps at first, then more urgent as it sniffs. Its curiosity increases. You’re not usually what it goes after - even the dog is surprised at your desperation.
Your heart jumps as the licks stop. “No...please…” The moan escapes from your lips before you can stop it. It drives your reality home: you just begged a dog to continue licking your pussy. Even a dog did not want to give you attention and you begged for it. There was no going back now. You wiggle your ass, hoping that would be enticing enough.
It seems to work. You feel it behind you again, but this time, you feel its front legs on your back. You feel its hot breath in your ear as its pants increase in frenzy. The weight is heavy, but you hold yourself up. You wiggle your ass faster. “Please…” The desperation in your voice disgusts you and arouses you in equal measure.
It’s not your fault.
You feel its hardness poking at you. You push back, all reason lost now. You reach down between your legs to help it align itself properly. You feel its paws on your back dig in. It hurts, but you’re beyond caring now.
Its cock feels smooth, cool to the touch. You stroke it. You feel it hardening further, you feel the knot forming at the base. You dare not look as you give a handjob to a dog. You hate yourself for wanting this. Perhaps you should stop…
“You’re not allowed to cum unless there is a cock in you.”
My words float through your mind again. Head hung in shame, your pussy quivering with arousal, you slip the head of its cock inside. A low moan escapes your lips, but dogs are not known for their patience when fucking. Especially when the bitch they’re fucking is so in heat. It pushes forward, impaling you with its full length, ripping a scream from your throat as you close your eyes in pain.
Before you can adjust, it pulls out and slams back in. Again and again. Faster and faster, giving in to its base instinct. The panting in your ear increasing, the fur of its body slapping against your thighs as you can do little more than take its full weight on you. Lost to your desire, you give in.
“Yes, yes, please, please give it to me. Oh yes, please fuck me…” It can’t understand you but you’re beyond caring. You’re so close. It’s the only way. It’s the only way. It’s not your fault, this was the only way…
All sense of time is lost. All that remains is the pleasure you’re losing yourself in. You hear it first: the pants change to growls as its intensity increases. Ramming into you faster and faster, held inside you by the bulbous knot at the base. You feel it now - with one final thrust, it shoots, contracting as pulse after pulse of hot cum floods your filthy, disgusting pussy. Sending you over the edge as well as you let go. Head buried into the mat, you cum too. You cum around a dog’s cock - driven mad by lust, your pussy pulsating and squeezing every last drop of cum out of it. Tears streaming down your face as you repeat to yourself.
“It’s not my fault. Please, it’s not my fault.”
Your own words sound hollow to you. Meaningless. It doesn’t matter - you were just fucked by a dog. You seduced it, wanted it, asked for it. You made it cum, and you came with its cock in you. Your arms shaking, you lift yourself up and it pulls out of you. The knot stretching apart your pussy as it pops out. You look up and your heart stops.
In the doorway, I’m standing with a ravishing blonde woman on my arm. She’s wearing a beautiful red dress that accentuates her superiority to you in every way. But all you can see is her expression of pure shock and disgust as she watches you. Your eyes fearfully switch to my face. How long have we been there?
I just look back at you. Your heart fills with joy as I give you a smile. I understand. I walk over to you and bend down so my face is closer to yours. Stroking your hair, I look into your eyes.
“It’s not your fault.”
submitted by opiate-of-the-masses to sexstories [link] [comments]


2019.05.25 05:02 JohnCarloStanton Catcher in the Rye: Is it about coping with the effect of rape and molestation?

I first read the Catcher in the Rye about 12 years ago in high school and this novel has always disturbed me a great deal. Many articles have been written about the Great Gatsby's unreliable narrator (Nick Carraway) and homosexual undertones, but much less has been written about the Catcher in the Rye's unreliable narrator and many hints of pedophilia and child molestation. This is what I think. Feel free to agree or disagree.
Jane Gallagher: Victim of child molestation by her "booze hound" stepfather, Mr. Cudahy. This was clearly implied by Holden Caulfield comment of him "tried to get wise with her". Her stepfather used to run around the house naked. She refused to answer her stepfather when he asked if there were any cigarettes in the house and later couldn't stop herself from crying in Holden's presence. They soon kissed without kissing each other's mouth. Holden bonded and identified with her because Holden himself was very likely also a victim of molestation (more on that later). Childhood trauma possibly caused Jane to become a "slut" in high school as she went on a date with Stradlater and was possibly raped again.
James Castle: "Skinny little weak-looking" (possibly gay) Castle allegedly jumped to his death while wearing Holden's turtleneck. He called Stabile "conceited," so Stabile and "six other dirty bastards" went to Castle's room to torment him. Holden refused to tell us what they did to him because it was too "repulsive" but the clear implication was something sexually humiliating. My guess is rape, possibly with an inanimate object. It was also possible he was murdered and thrown off the window instead of jumping to his death. Mr. Antolini, who was later revealed as a sexual predator, was the one who carried Castle's body away, which implied a close relationship between Castle and Antolini. It was possible Castle was molested by Antolini.
Sunny and Maurice: Like Jane, Holden identified with and empathized with prostitute Sunny, who seemed to be around Holden's age, and put her on a pedestal. Her pimp, Maurice, came across as an exploitative pedophile.
Mr. Antolini: Married to a much older rich woman. Seemed to have a distant relationship with his wife. Fostered close personal relationships with male pupils, including Holden (used to play tennis together) and evidently James Castle. When Holden stayed over at his place, he called Holden "handsome", didn't provide Holden with any pajamas (presumably wanted him to sleep naked), and later pet Holden's face while he was asleep. When caught, he claimed to be just "admiring." My guess is Antonili and wife were each other's "beards" and touching Holden while he was asleep was part of the "grooming" process.
Even Antolini's "advice" could be interpreted as an offer to enter into a "pederasty" relationship. "You’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score. You’ll be excited and STIMULATED to know. Many, many men have been troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them–if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry."
Stradlater and Ivy League bastard: Both guys have rape-y vibe. Ivy League bastard was feeling up his date under the table while simultaneously telling a story about a guy in his dorm who tried to commit suicide by overdosing an aspirin. The date was telling the Ivy League guy to "Don’t, darling. Please, don’t. Not here." This is similar to many of Stradlater's dates ("Please, don't. Please." Stradlater clearly was a date rapist and Coach Ed Bankey was complicit in his effort given that he often used Bankey's car. After his date with Jane Gallagher, he didn't boast about his conquest, leading Holden to think “something had gone funny.” Holden fought Stradlater, but was easily manhandled. The implication was Jane resisted Stradlater and he raped her and traumatized her all over again.
Carl Luce: Holden's student advisor at a previous prep school was a "fat-assed phony", well-documented pervert, and possible predator 3 years older than Holden. Luce used to corrupt younger students (including Holden) with graphic descriptions of weird sexual kinks and fetishes, including beastiality with "sheeps" and homosexuality. He also had a habit of prying into younger students' sex lives. By Holden's telling, Luce knew "who every flit (gays) and Lesbian in the United States was." Additionally, Luce claimed gays could be "recruited". "He said that you could turn into a flit practically overnight, if you had the traits and all." And Holden suspected Luce was a closeted homosexual. "I kept waiting to turn into a flit or something." When Holden met up with him, he was in an odd relationship with a much older Chinese sculptress from Shanghai (cue to "Asian Dragon Lady" stereotype). Luce claimed he was dating her due to his preference for "Eastern philosophy," which apparently considered sex as both a “a physical and a spiritual experience." Reading between the lines, it seems clear that Carl Luce was a closeted homosexual who might've "turned out" Holden when he was his student advisor and was now being "pegged" by his significantly older Chinese girlfriend and enjoying being submissive to an "Asian dragon lady."
Holden: After fleeing Antolini's apartment, Holden revealed that similar "perverty" incident happened to him "about twenty times since I was a kid." Holden's flight made it obvious that Antolini's sexual advances set off a defensive trigger in Holden. This also made it obvious that Holden was molested, which explained both his affinity for fellow victims of molestation (Jane, Sunny) and his desire to be a "catcher in the rye." Later at the train station, he experienced a major freakout, developed diarrhea, and collapsed on the floor in a public bathroom. It seemed likely Antolini "roofied" Holden's coffee.
Phoebe: We now know most pedophiles were themselves molested as kids because it is "learned behavior," which brings me to the most disturbing part of the novel. Holden's relationship with Phoebe was downright creepy and he was either desperately trying to suppress his incestous urges for her or already molesting her. He described Phoebe as "nice skinny" with "nice, pretty little ears" and "really nice" red hair. He later sneaked into her bedroom and found her sleeping in his bed. He asked the rhetorical question, "What’s old Phoebe got to spread out?" Note the sexual innuendo. She was asleep and "she had her mouth way open." Another sexual innuendo. After he woke her up, he noted that "She’s very affectionate. I mean she’s quite affectionate, for a child. Sometimes she’s even TOO affectionate." And then after she realized he was expelled again, she punched him with her fist, which came off as rather flirtatious and inappropriate for a ten-year-old. And then he pinched her ass. WTF!!!???
"Then, just for the hell of it, I gave her a pinch on the behind. It was sticking way out in the breeze, the way she was laying on her side. She has hardly any behind. I didn’t do it hard, but she tried to hit my hand anyway, but she missed."
This passage really seals the deal for me that Holden Caulfield was not just a victim of pedophilia but had also become an incestous pedo himself. First of all, why would he be checking out his 10-year-old sister's butt at all? And why would he pinch it just "for the hell of it"? It got even creepier.
"She was sitting way up in bed. She looked so pretty."
And then they danced to four numbers. They got "sweaty." Phoebe asked Holden to feel her forehead to see if it felt feverish.
And then their parents got home and Holden hid in the closet. Phoebe lied to them to cover for Holden, which implied Holden had been grooming her for quite some time now. Phoebe offered Holden money and he cried. And then Phoebe said Holden "could sleep with her if I wanted to," which implied they had slept together before.
Later, Phoebe wanted to run away with Holden, like how Holden wanted Sally Hayes to run away with him (Sally seemed like the only normal, albeit shallow, person in the book). And then an argument ensued and the subsequent interaction once again made Holden and her 10-year-old sister seemed more like boyfriend/girlfriend than 16-year-old brother with his 10-year-old sister.
It's also worth noting that JD Salinger had numerous relationships with much younger, barely legal women during his lifetime and that the veil of elite prep schools' pedophilia and sexual abuse have slowly been lifted in recent years. Apology in advance for any grammatical and spelling errors.
submitted by JohnCarloStanton to books [link] [comments]