This one is for Miss N

CRUISIN' WITH A SQUIRREL

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect…

I was on Cedar Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.

It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.

I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"

The leap was nothing short of spectacular...

He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity.

As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.

And losing...

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact; he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque.
This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger.

The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in, well... I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me.

As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however.

The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of… so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.

Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams.

They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really... except for two things.

First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car.

The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.

So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.

That was one thing. The other…?

Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car... but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Cedar Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of band-Aids.

With love...........from.......Mr. Ig...............

Two groups: the klan and the anti-klan.

The klan: tolerant peaceful group united by the aspects that they live life on the fun side and BEARLY (ha ha) get their fur ruffled. Capable of laughing at themselves and at others. Believers in free speech and the American way. Amused by their stupidity and the stupidity of others. Entertained by their creative postings, the creative postings by others and especially the stupid postings by the anti-klan. Harmonious in the idea that one not take life TOO SERIOUSLY.

The anti-klan: INTOLERANT hateful group united by the aspects that they live life deeply burdened because everyone else does not conform to their own thoughts and ideas. God-fearing bible thumping Christians incapable of realizing that they are in themselves close-minded (intolerant of the beliefs and opinions of others; stubbornly unreceptive to new ideas). Need I say that again? Afraid to even look at their own naked body because they can’t stop the thoughts from coming in their head that they might be perverts because they see a naked body only in a sexual aspect and not as “just a naked body”. And God forbid that they look into the toilet before they flush, lest they see those
pornographic turds that they have just expelled from their bodies. They have been beaten by their fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers as a way of discipline. Let’s be assured that they are beating their own children (if they have any) as a way of discipline because that is the way of life. I can just see it… little 6 year old Susie drops chocolate ice cream on the $ 6.00 white carpet runner that was bought from Wal-Mart and has been placed carefully on the floor just inside the entry door to their single-wide mobile-home next to the public land fill. Mr. FATmouth immediately pulls his belt off and whips the living shit out of her. Next, he finds his 12 year old son Johnny in his bedroom looking at picture of a glorious woman in a Playboy centerfold he found at the landfill, and Mr. FATmouth retrieves the nearly worn out paddle board to TEACH JOHNNY A LESSON. After Mr. FATmouth finishes his 2 hour beating of little Johnny, he tells his wife to fix his meal and that he will be leaving soon for work (at the town’s waste water treatment plant where Mr. FATmouth is the SENIOR TURD INSPECTOR). He wife is eager to fix his meal of “triple bean soup” (she got the recipe from Master Chef Vapor’s cooking book “Dollar Store Specialties”) because she knows that as soon as he is gone, she will be next door getting her nightly fill of sex by a guy is only knows by the name of Indy. As Mr. FATmouth exits the door, he reminds the kids “don’t be playing with that boy at the end of the street, the boy with that white bear toy.” He gets on his bicycle in the pouring rain and rides the 12 mile route to work, the same one he’s been doing the last 22 years. Little Johnny can’t wait till he’s old enough to join the army, not because he loves his country, but because he wants to get away from his father.

Because they have been abused by their parents to prevent the creation of a person with an open-mind, they feel a strong need to control the actions of others. They are known as the anti-klan.

THEY JUST HATE IT WHEN SOMEONE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME (no one getting injured, abused, hurt, molested).
Oh, I almost forgot… they are very paranoid. As you will see in a photo / post below, they have the delusions of ending the klan, showing that they feel the need to resort to violence because they lack the ability to control an open-minded free thinking group known as the klan.

Did I miss anything in my excogitation?
Love, Mr. Stupid!

the Klan is going down...

beware!

http://www.visi.com/~sgrantz/psyched/bear1.jpg">

Something I heard

One of my hobbies is listening to shortwave radio signals from around the world. When one gets good atmospheric skip then signals from the other side of the world will come in pretty good. It’s related to weather and time of day but I have heard some fascinating conversation originating from China and Africa.

Recently, as the sun was rising (signal gets weaker) I was over hearing a conversation that I believe was coming out of Africa. They were discussing about how there is some kind of mass-migration of monkeys going on and how it will affect the area. The signal was fading in and out, but they also were talking about some kind of festival. I couldn’t make out if the people where going to have a festival because the monkeys were leaving or that the monkeys were going to some kind of festival. They kept mentioning something about “Merapi”.

Just about the time that they were about to speak of some significant date relating to this Merapi thing, the signal faded out. The signal picked up again, but very weak, and they were saying something about a bear and something to do with either pontification or masturbation. I got the impression that the monkey migration was related.

I’ll let you know more if I am able to find that signal again.

Chyeaalll Niggaz DAzz wurr it be

Chyeeall Niggazz DAzz Wurr It be /Souf DAkota niggaz little kittens/dazz me/bitches in da club and dey washing me clean/shit by Da cAdillac cAdilLac car/Imma be like Lupe- a supAstarr/shit nigga SIOUX SIOUX FALLS/ SOUF DAKOTA NIGGAZ HOLLA SIOUX SIOUX FALLs!!

HOLLA AT CHYEALL NIGGAZ!! YALL THOUGHT WE WAS GONE_ BUT WE AINT NIGGAZ!@ HATAZ BACK DEM FUCK OFF< CHYEAAL REPRESENT DAT SHIT!

PEACE!

Huge Disappointment

I used to think this site was just ok a bit plain but it did the job, and I frequented it quite often every day because i have nothing better to do. Now that I know that it is possible to tamper with other people's nostrils, its has now lost ALL credibility as a legitimate resource for true forts and theelings.

I used to care about commenting back unhelpful messages or my thought reactions that came from my fluffy brain, but now that I know that there's the possibility of fraud, I can't trust them enuff to care anymoor.

I liked this website because it seemed to be the one place, not just on t' interweb, but really in the whole wide world, where people can truly be free wiff themselves and express their literal reality about what life can really be like these days...

Now, just like everywhere else, you can trust everything anyone says. even here. so i'm not bother going to come back to see if this post has been tampered wiff

But it doesn't surprise me in the least. If shady low-life good-for-nothing termites have even the slightest chance to do something funny, I guess they can't help but take the opportunity.

I'm a Very very very very very very very disappointed fraggle I am.

...AH!

...and as if it weren't all enough, I had to witness a shooting today! WTF?! I was just minding my business and driving home and thinking how starving i am and how i probably won't eat anything when I get home just because when some fools go ahead and decide to shoot up some poor soul at a corner gas station!! I witnessed a shooting! I mean this isn't the first time I've seen shooting anyways but i wasn't fucking expecting it and that's what pisses me off. I don't want to live in a place where I have to be fucking paranoid all the time. I want to be able to drive home through town and not worry about little fucking mullos tearing up everything in their path. I saw the gun firing. I saw his arm held out and i saw that bright white light, like a mini fireworks display, and I heard bangbangbangbangbang and there might have been one more, I can't remember. who's counting when someone is shooting? not ME! I am just driving on with my hands on those 911 digits. I freaked out because it was about fifty feet away from me and I did not fucking use my head. I SAW those fucking kids crossing the highway while I was sitting at the light and I did not use my FUCKING head and realize what was going to happen. I KNOW BETTER!! I LIVE HERE, have lived here forever and I knew what was going to happen I just didn't fucking use my head and honest it really could have cost me. What if someone got hurt? Well I will know about it soon enough cuz i gave the fuzz my info and they will prolly call me if someone died and they need a witnessy. Fanfuckingtastic. Ah well. It's just fucked up because that EXACT spot that my car was in, that exact fucking spot down to the inches, was where I was when the mullos attacked my car. I am not driving over there anymore, that's for sure. Okay well I'm over it now. Just thought you should know and all how I am enjoying my fairy world where kids don't have guns. Pinches culeros, ustedes.

I am not your doll

what do I even WANT?
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??
This can't be me, this is definitely not my life. I'm not who I thought I would be. Where did I go wrong?

I. Am. Weak.

If I would have known I was going to end up where I am, I would have at least enjoyed the journey thus far a little more. Damnit. So many things I thought I could do later on. And I'm not even fucking old yet.

I just keep SCREAMING (<---just like that) but only on the inside.

He's so sweet, I wanna lick the wrapper.

See what I mean? So lost I don't even have priorities. I don't even eat anymore unless I find it really, really, necessary. I think I am starving myself just to make sure I can still feel. It's like the only thing I have that I can control. Just to make sure I am still doing SOMETHING. It is becoming an obsession, and you are the only people that know about it. Which is funny because it's not like i'm anorexic and i'm trying to hide the fact that I am starving myself from everyone. It's just that no one pays attention anyways. This is pathetic. Like a child crying out for someone to look at them. I just need to be slapped or something.

...starving for attention...for whatever it is that I seem to be lacking.
I am in total control.

?

someone explain

what/who the fUcK is Kody Bear (or Kody R Bear or whatever) and what is all this hype about it/him? what does it/he have to do with the "get it off your chest" philosophy?

personally i think Kody Bear should be shot and skinned. He'd make a lovely fur coat or fireside rug don't you think?

The author of kody bear posts seems to think it's funny. Anyone else think that?

Silly silly person with waaaay too much time on their hands

I'm a stalker!! muhahaha

Isn't it great what you can find out about other people?

I left my violent husband a few weeks ago (see "i love my life" post a few days ago)

I left while he was at work and took nothing except the children. It was the only way to get away from him. I took him to court to have him removed from my house and I eventually moved back in.

Since then i've had the usual phone calls:

You bitch!
I still love you
please come home, i promise not to strangle you anymore
I hate you
I'm a broken man

Anyhooooo, today i logged onto my BT account to check my phone bill. (he took the phone number when he moved so i had to get a new one) hope you're following this?

It automatically logged me into the old phone number for this address (which he took remember? lol) Well i couldn't resist having a look.... tell me who wouldn't have done?
And this poor broken, destroyed man who claims he still loves me, took exactly 7 days to find another woman.
I have her phone number, town of residence, mobile number. I know that his phone bill is £254 this month and he calls his bint 7 times a day! omg!! when does he go to work then? lol
I also noticed the weekend he went AWOL there were no calls to his woman so he was obviously there eh?

I also have the phone number of his ex (i can tell from the location that BT dispalys)

I wonder if new girlfiend knows that he calls ex more then he calls her?

Now i'm not a stalker and i don't plan on contacting any of his girlfriends. I'm very pleased he has someone else because that keeps him off my back, and his hands from around my throat.

But, oh, the urge to tell him that i know where he was last weekend when he didn't bother collecting the kids!

Suggestions/ideas on how to use this info?

I know i know *nutter alert* I'm not at all honestly *sharpens knife and finds rabbit*

Nell
xxxxxxx

Fascists

Special Note

Due to a malicious attack on our web server we have removed most of the content from this site. The attack caused users to be redirected to random sites that have no affiliation with iCasualties. After a good deal of effort we think that we have identified problem and hope that we will soon return the site back to it's proper state. Please accept our sincerest apologies for any inconvenience this has caused you.

Who the hell would attack icasualties? Because it is obviously freedom of speech that is the crime here. I hope Michael White got their ip's.

i just get so sick of hating it all.

i get tired of trying. i know how lazy that sounds but i do. i try so hard not to hate myself. i try so hard to get my act together. i try so hard to make friends- or at least have some type of social interaction. it hurts i try so hard. i hate that i have to try and i hate that it hurts to try. i just hate it all. i'm tired of hating it all. when does it get easier? i'm pretty sure it gets better because i watch everyone else coast though life having a grand old time. what makes it so easy for them? what gives then the ability or the right to be happy like that? when will it be my turn? will it ever be my turn? it just doesn't seem fair- i dont want to keep struggling but i dont know what my choices are. yeh, i could say i'm gonna go off myself in the bathroom. but lets be realistic- if that had been the path meant for me it would have happened already. i think i was meant to just have to suffer through life as someone wwho cannot enjoy it. thats my punishment, i dont know why.

***** BREAKING NEWS *****

KODYBEAR SIGHTING!

His Esteemed Excellency Eminence Kody R Bear was recently sighted at a Klan rally in the United States. Our reporters were not allowed in but it was thought to be a fund raising event for The Festival of Merapi.

Magogo the Singing Dancing Macarena Monkey was not in attendance and is believed to have remained in Cape Town where he is in deep meditation preparing for his dual role in the festival.

Recently there has been a rash of KodyBear sightings, two in the US.

One South African claimed to have seen a vision of the Bear in the night sky.

"I was appalled (spelled with two p's ) by the absurdity of it", exclaimed the man in a recent interview. "But I knew immediately that I must go to Merapi, to the Festival."

It is indeed rare to have so many KodyBear sightings as His Excellency and Sir Magogo have become avid MySpacers, preferring to stay indoors and online. The Klan and MySpace seems to have been made for one another. Magogo has used the popular social networking sight to advance his interests in the adult film industry. His Excellency, on the other hand, is cultivating his connections to world leaders. In China the adult film industry nets 33 billion dollars a year in revenue. It is no secret that His Excellency has aspirations of world domination and may envision a world governed by the porn Industry.

KODYBEAR

(PRONOUNCED AS ONE WORD)

apalled by the absurdity of life

i am so tired of looking at life from every possible angle looking for meaning. i know i won't find any, i know it is a futile undertaking; trust me i totally know it, but i cant help craving for meaning. i am so incapable of giving it meaning myself, of embracing the void and transform it into a life engine... i don't want to spend another single day like this but i feel i don't have the strength... the spirit... (Pronounced all as one word)

Was that a scream? Or was it silence?

So many days go by

and by
and by

And I never say one single real word. Yes, lots of other words come out, but none of them are real.
None of them are me, they are not mine.
They are just words other people force me to say, I say them because I have to.

But what about the things I really want to say?
About how lost I am?
About how I think about you all day long?
About the things that worry me?
About everything that has gone wrong?
About my hopes, my wishes, my dreams.

But everyone else makes other words come out of my mouth.
They make me forget the things that are important.

I am losing myself.
Am I losing myself?
.

How can I not be myself if I am never anyone but myself? But that is untrue. Everyone else leaves a footprint IN me. They change, mold, sculpt, influence.

How can I change, yet keep who I am? Because these are the only real words I have, and look: they are still unspoken.

Who will be there to listen?

I hate my life.

My mom loves me & all but recently i've moved out of her house to my dad's to see if it was better here, my step mom is controlliong & i get this i hate lauren vibe from her, she doesnt actually say it to me but just the tone in her voice, she's always unhappy with me, & there's always something she finds to bitch at me about. I hate it, well i decided that i want to move back home with my mom & i told my dad & he starts flipping out on me saying i know why you want out of here, its cause you want to be ungrounded you dont want people watching you & emailing your teachers to see how your grades are, but that isnt the reason why, I feel suisidal in this house. I can't say anything to anyone with out getting critisizesd whether it's "Hey this works really good for your hair," I'll always get something back at me like oh yeah look at the price... Im sorry we can afford to be able to get whatever we want (Insinuating that im a sopiled brat.) I'm constantly talked to about my weight. Recently i've decided to stop eating because of it. & I can't do anything without someone breathing down my neck. I've been regretting coming here for the longest time. I've thought about killing myself, but i dont want to go to hell because suicide is the unforgivable sin. but i dont know what else to do. I hate my dad my step mom everyone in this fucking house. I just want my mom back. I just want to redo my whole life again. a little bit ago i did a myspace survey & the question said, "whats the one thing that helps you through your day." I thought about it & nothing came to my mind. Maybe i'm being selfish because the lord blessed me with this life... I dont know. All i want is to hug my mom. & be able to see her everyday. sometimes i think why do i have to lie? I cant not. its instinct cause i dont want to let someone down. I dont know what to do ive prayed to god for him to help me get the fuck out of here. but nothing has happened. maybe i should slit my wrists. I dont know. Im just fucking tired of all the bullshit in my fucking life. (pronounced all as one word)

I love my life

Why do i love my life? I don't know?

I'm 39 and have just left my very emotionally abusive 2nd husband. He beat me. A lot.

This is the 2nd time i have left a man. My first husband kept me in such poverty, he used to 'give' me £2.20 a day for travel to work and 2 cups of coffee while i was there. Those were my wages for working 12 hours a day, 6 days a week. It took me 16 years to leave him but i did it.

I walked out with nothing, no belongings at all but hey! i never had anything in the first place right? All i took was my 2 children.

I met another man and was with him for 8 years. We have 2 children (that makes 4 for me) but we also had another baby. He was born premature and only stayed with us for 10 mins. He weighed 1lb 3oz and was born at 25+2 weeks gestation.

I eventually left this man too, only a few weeks ago as it happens. I took the small children (the older ones are now 20 and 18) and went to a womens aid refuge, We now have our own place and all is well.

So why do i love life? I've been so deprived of food i weighed 7 stone, i've walked 7 miles to work and back again because i had no travel money, I've been beaten, kicked, punched, strangled, ignored, locked out my own home in the rain, had a hot chip pan thrown at me, had a miscarriage at 11 weeks, felt my son wriggle and then die in my arms, carried a tiny coffin with my son inside, been called every name possible, worn sandles in winter as i had no moey for other shoes.

So why do i love life? I have 4 beautifull children 3 boys and a girl and i'm free. Free of whatever it was that made me choose these men, free of god (he obviously has no cares for me) free of all negativity, free of depression. I know who i am now, i know that my life is upto me and lets face it.... what else can god (the twat) throw at me?

The wurst

Ugh, stuffed intestines...that's the wurst.

people are strange...

It's so strange how everyone feels like they are normal. For the most part, I feel like I'm normal...until I look at myself through the eyes of a stranger.

I wish I could understand how other people can be happy. I just can't seem to manage it. I don't mean happy as in cheery all the time, I have no problems, life is just keen. I mean I lost faith in God, I no longer believe that he hates me, because I'm almost sure that God either doesn't exist or he's indifferent to us, it's the only thing that truly makes sense to me. Aside from that, I've lost all hope of ever getting married I can't have children I've been reassured that I'm too damaged to ever be able to hold down a job so I suppose nursing is out of the question.

For me these things just are. I can't even cry about them anymore. I feel nothing but apathy. I can't do drugs, I can't smoke cigarettes, I can't drink...nothing. All I have left are food and sex and thanks to the medication I've no desire for sex and since I quit smoking food just tastes too strong and it makes me sick. There is nothing left. My friends all left me, my family is forced to be responsible for me. I am some sort of pathetic adult child.

I am still a coward.

KODYBEAR SIGHTED

His Esteemed Excellency, Kody R Bear, was recently sighted at a middle school in Blue Island, Illinois. Eye witness Miss N managed to nab a photo of him before he was taken away by a teacher.

KodyBear first made his presence known during the sixth grade teacher's team meeting/lunch hour. We are certain that this was indeed a genuine KodyBear sighting, as witnesses state that he spent most of his time repeating everything that the teachers said and even proceeded to sing a song telling everyone present to "shove it". However, the status of his batteries was questioned, and he was immediately taken away to the privacy of an empty room for a battery change.

"I could hardly believe my eyes and ears, here was His Excellency right in front of me, bouncing up and down and battering everyone with rude songs" exclaimed Miss N.

His Excellency Kody R Bear was rumored to have been tracking a certain shady uncle of one particular student, or perhaps he was there to scare the little boogers into behaving. Magogo the singing dancing macarena monkey has not been available for comment on these rumors.

I am gay but I can't admit it

I am gay..i like guys..i want cocks..i dream of sucking cocks and I get off watching gay porn..yet, I cant admit it..i think about getting married, I think about having a family...

what should I do?

BTW, I have never slept with a guy...just girls...

All I can say is that Joe is a TOTAL asshole.

True story, there is this asshole named Joe who lives near the Mason Dixon line on the east coast. He has very few friends, if any, because he is so much of an asshole. Not only is he the biggest asshole, he is not what you would consider as intelligent. I’ve met him many times and have been in house at least 3 times. His wife loves horses and he loves to be an asshole. He contributes to a blog where he spends his time complaining and bashing the local town mayor and anyone else he doesn’t like. Many of the people he thinks are his friends actually talk bad about him behind his back.

Well, a few months ago, I was having a beer at the local bar with a friend I’ve known for about 6 years. My friend is one of those guys that likes a challenge and is always begging for you to “dare” him to do something stupid. I bet him $50 that he couldn’t get Joe’s wife to have sex with him while Joe was out pretending to be a news reporter for the blog he contributes to. Needless to say, my friend took the challenge with out hesitation. I told him to bring back one of her panties too.

I mentioned this “dare” to my husband and (after he stopped laughing) he said he would double the amount if it happened.

I met up with my friend about 3 to 4 weeks later and asked if he was successful. He laughed and said that he enjoyed that dare. He continued to tell me how he went to Joe’s house and began talking to his wife about the horses. He said that he took his time to work up the situation, and at first, Joe’s wife was somewhat resistant, but it didn’t take long. Then he tells me that he has banged her two more times. I told my friend that I hope he doesn’t think I owe him $150. He showed me her panties and said that if he could keep the panties then I owe him nothing because it was one of the “fun dares”.

I’m wondering if he’s going back for more.