Thursday, August 31, 2017

"Females shouldn't use their sex to get things, Lola!"

Cheerleader of the Flies...

"What do you miss most about civilization, Elizabeth?"

"Oh, there are so many things, Lilly. Running water, electricity, indoor plumbing..."

"Indeed, Elizabeth! Indoor plumbing with soft, luxurious toilet paper!"

"Oh what I would give for just one square of toilet paper, and some body lotion. My knees are SO scrapey..."

"I don't know about all of you, but I miss boys."

"What, Lola? You miss boys?"

"I miss all the boys who lusted after my body. It made me feel special."

"All the boys wanting to have sex with you made you feel special?"

"Oh yeah. I would walk past them in the hall in my cheerleader skirt, and I could feel the heat radiating from them -- they were practically burning just to touch me."

"We don't need boys to validate our existence, Lola!"

"Look around you, Lilly: we're sleeping in dirt. If there was a boy here all I'd have to do is breathe softly on his neck and then he'd build me a hut! I'd put my hand on his shoulder and he'd spend the day fishing for me..."

"Females shouldn't use their sex to get things, Lola!"

"But that's how things get done, Lilly. By ourselves, we just shit in the bushes. A horny boy would dig a hole for us and build a toilet seat out of, like, wood."

"WE could dig a hole if we wanted, Lola."

"Then why haven't we, Lilly? We've been here six weeks and we haven't built a thing -- we just bitch about how being on this island sucks..."

"Well, that's because being on this island isn't fair..."

"Nothing's fair, Lilly. Do you think me stringing some boy along for two months in his hopes of getting just one blow-job is fair?"

"Well..."

"Of COURSE it isn't fair, but that's just how life works. Like: I needed an 'A' in Chemistry, so I let Mr. Allen the chemistry teacher stick a finger in my ass, and I got an 'A'!"

"But I studied real hard in that class and only got a 'B'..."

"Maybe you should've tried wearing a cheerleader skirt..."



I am Laslo.


Monday, August 28, 2017

To be honest, I got involved in the Antifa because of my girlfriend.

Antifa Andrew, Fighter of Fascists...

To be honest, I got involved in the Antifa because of my girlfriend. She told me she couldn't be with someone who wasn't dedicated to fighting Fascists, and I didn't want to have to find a new girlfriend: the cute girls who AREN'T Antifa are way out of my league....

I didn't have any black clothes or anything to use as a mask -- I have Oxford shirts and khakis, mostly -- so we went shopping together and Tania bought me Antifa clothes: she put it on her father's Visa card, so we were sticking it to the man already...

I felt out of place at the first meeting I attended: some of these people seem SO angry. I mean, I get it: Fascism sucks. But I didn't realize how much around me was Fascist: even my car was Fascist, because it could only seat four of us on our way to a demonstration. So my girlfriend and I went to the Used Car lot and traded it for a van...



I  am Laslo.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Space Madness could occur at any time, and now Morgan was left with his cold diagnostic tools and no one to make sense of them...

"Dark Moon, Dark Moons" (excerpt)

As Morgan observed the alien life-form incubating in Colonist 8675-309's bowels he felt cold, cold shock: in the space of a few minutes the fetus had doubled in size. At this rate within an hour the creature would be too large to comfortably remain in the anal cavity...

This would obviously be a case for the ship's Doctor; alas, the Doctor had died weeks ago, having castrated himself and hung himself by the neck in his quarters. Space Madness could occur at any time, and now Morgan was left with his cold diagnostic tools and no one to make sense of them...

I am Laslo.


On first observation everything seemed normal: just the slightly shrunken lungs that came from Space Sleep...

"Dark Moon, Dark Moons" (excerpt)

Morgan returned to Colonist 8675-309 and tapped his fingers across a touch pad, setting in motion the particle-driven Full Body Scan. On first observation everything seemed normal: just the slightly shrunken lungs that came from Space Sleep. But on further inspection Morgan noticed something that made his blood run cold...

In the bowels of Colonist 8675-309 there was a small fetus developing, a fetus quite unlike that of a human. The tongue of the fetus slithered like that of a serpent, and three rows of tiny sharp teeth had already formed. Oh my God! Morgan exclaimed in the silence of the Colonists' Space Sleep Chamber: there was an alien life-form on the ship -- a life-form with an unquenchable Ass Frenzy that was incubating its young in the anal cavities of the Colonists...


I am Laslo.



Thursday, August 24, 2017

But could there be fifty-seven such crazed crewmen, suffering Space Madness and ejaculating on the hindquarters of colonists...?

"Dark Moon, Dark Moons" (excerpt)

Morgan completed his rounds: there was a strange semen-like substance on the anal sphincters of fifty-seven colonists. Surely this could not be one lone crazed crewman overwhelmed by Space Madness. But could there be fifty-seven such crazed crewmen, suffering Space Madness and ejaculating on the hindquarters of colonists...?

No, Morgan decided: the semen-like substance did not come from fellow crewmen, but then what could it be? He had heard of alien lifeforms found stowed away on space vessels, but never did he hear of any that went on an Anal Rampage like this. Surely this was some form of life no human being had ever previously encountered, and this form of life was voraciously frenzied by Ass...

I am Laslo.



But now there was Colonist 8675-309, and Morgan felt a sense of unease pass underneath his Silver Tunic.

"Dark Moon, Dark Moons" (excerpt)

Morgan attached the SensoPads to the palms of his scarred hands and began his rounds. There were over three-hundred colonists in DeepSleep in the ship's rear chambers, dreamlessly waiting to awake on their new home on the Moon of Magnus, and all three-hundred needed their daily Anal Probe check...

Inspecting the first few Anal Probes, Morgan found the readings to be normal, and the probes to be firmly in place. He had spent the last hundred days inspecting each colonist's anal probe, and had yet to find anything of concern...

But now there was Colonist 8675-309, and Morgan felt a sense of unease pass underneath his Silver Tunic. Yes, the anal probe was inserted the full eight inches, but -- upon closer inspection -- the Anal Seal O-Ring had been dislodged. That, however, was the only the beginning: beneath the Anal Seal O-Ring Morgan saw what he suspected to be semen, but a semen not quite like that of any human...



I am Laslo.


Saturday, August 19, 2017

I'm PROUD to be a white man with an afro, playing guitar left-handed, and soloing some Wah-Wah psychedelic jams...

 Mason Gorge, The White Jimi Hendrix...

I have an afro, I play guitar left-handed, and I can solo some Wah-Wah psychedelic jams, so all of a sudden people started calling me 'The White Jimi Hendrix'. Now, I mean no disrespect to Jimi, but this SUCKS...

I understand how people want to describe newer artists by naming better-known stars, and I'm okay with that. But why does it have to be about my race? Don't get me wrong: I have no problem being compared with a black man, but it is like my own racial identity is being stolen, you know...?

I'm PROUD to be a white man with an afro, playing guitar left-handed, and soloing some Wah-Wah psychedelic jams, but it's ME, you know? If I played cello would people be calling me 'the White Yo-Yo Ma'...? 

Frankly, I find all of this attention on my race disturbing: I could be green, and I would still rock an afro, play guitar left-handed, and solo some Wah-Wah psychedelic jams, you get me...? Still, I guess I have it better than the singer in my band: people call him 'the Male Stevie Nicks'...


I am Laslo.


Thursday, August 17, 2017

Then again, maybe not: perhaps shame is now an emotion that is considered archaic, also....

Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...

I realize that any advice I have to offer this new world will fall on deaf ears: I fought on the losing side of a war, I did not believe the Negro was the equal of the White Man, though I wished him no ill will...

I am archaic: I realize I am most favorably remembered as unfortunate at best. Yet I see things in today's world that, under a Just God, would surely bring people shame in later years. Then again, maybe not: perhaps shame is now an emotion that is considered archaic, also....

I have much of which to be ashamed, but my knowledge of this strangely brings me peace: I lived life poor but not poorly, I believe...

I was never ashamed of being poor: my father never spoke harshly of the life he was given, and I did not believe it to be my place to start. However, I never took being poor as a sign of virtue, or a reason for hate. Many today do not honor their fathers or their forefathers, so I understand that there is little honor to expect...

I am Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...


I am Laslo.




For the briefest moment I wondered if I could really pull the trigger, but the moment was fleeting and I shot him where he stood...

Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...

I was shot on the battlefield, and the moment is frozen in me, a permanent stutter of my heart. The projectile tore through my uniform and embedded itself in my Bible: God chose me at that moment, although for what I still do not understand, but am only thankful...

I approached the offending Union Soldier, and saw the fear in his eyes as I pointed my weapon at him. For the briefest moment I wondered if I could really pull the trigger, but the moment was fleeting and I shot him where he stood...

I expect he is in Heaven now, and if I were to meet him there perhaps we would realize that we were young men in the throes of a battle bigger than us. I wonder if those that killed and are killed today could expect the same commiseration...

I no loner see Nobility in my actions, but I do not also see malice: that, as good as any, is the difference I see in the country today...

I am Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...


I am Laslo.




The Angels have chosen to ignore these people, and leave them to their small pities...

Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...

Being a Ghost, I cannot look into people's hearts, but I can see them when they think no one is watching...

I see those in their private moments where hate is driven by a dark soul, and others where hate is driven by trembling fear. Very few can I see being on the Side of the Angels; the Angels have chosen to ignore these people, and leave them to their small pities...

Perhaps the Meek shall one day inherit the earth, but it is the spiritually weak that claim ownership today. Passion without Spirit leads to idle hands, and we know how the Devil likes those with idle hands...

I saw the Devil in the battlefields of war, and did my best to resist him; sadly, people today willingly accept his whispers in their ears. Maybe my time of living does not allow me to understand the people of today, but I believe I DO understand, though my heart may be questioned by those who did not live in my world...

I am Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...



I am Laslo.


When the fear of death is gone a people get the fever...

I see they are taking the statues down. Perhaps surprisingly, I am at peace with this: memories fade, and History begins another page. Me, I prefer to be at peace than to be dragged out in spirit for virtuous beatings. I fought in a war where my side lost: respectful silence is much to ask for, but I ask this of my God, anyway...

I see so much hate in people's hearts today: it seems a soft life turns some to hate and violence, maybe so that they can feel alive. When I was fighting in Pittsburg Landing I did not feel more alive. No, I feared death. I feared everything I knew, gone. When the fear of death is gone a people get the fever...

I must say, the fear of death for the Negro seems to be mostly because of his own brothers. They are forever cursed to fight a war where they inflict the most damages upon themselves. Maybe that view is colored by the past I lived in: I can accept that, for a man may only know what he wants to know....

I am Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...


I am Laslo.



I was part of a wound that is never to be forgotten: unlike the people of today I remember the blood in all its red horror.

Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...

I do not recognize what America has become, but I have made my peace with that. When you lose a war you cannot expect the future to make much sense to you...

I lost a brother and three cousins in the war, one cousin of which fought on the side of the North. I visit their graves, and imagine what could have been. All these years later, I see that when America gets a fever the blood runs hot and violence rules the day. The violence of today seems to have less Honor, but I suppose I would think that: it is a different time, but it seems somehow to become more of the same...

I never owned a slave. I see what has happened to the Negroes and I wonder if they are really any better off; again, maybe that is just the world through my eyes. It seems the Negro is haunted by a past whose shadow they cannot escape, and this shadow makes them angry at the sun. Of course, I cannot escape the past either, which is why I wander this world as a spirit that has not made it to Heaven...

I was part of a wound that is never to be forgotten: unlike the people of today I remember the blood in all its red horror. And there was so much blood: limbs cut off by saws, brains blasted from their skulls, horrible gut shots where death seemed to take forever to come...

Maybe every generation or two blood needs to be recklessly spilled, to test the people and the peace. At least that is what I have seen, and I don't expect anything different to come. I am Parson Graham, Confederate Ghost...



I am Laslo.



Wednesday, August 16, 2017

"Platinum Blonde Dixie Model prefers Mississippi Black Snake"

With more analysis of the above titles I see the subject of Nazis dominated by blacks: "Nazi Gets Penetrated by Big Black Jew", "Nazi pussy gets fucked by a fat black cock in the ass".

Is this preferred by black porn viewers as righteous masturbation material, or by actual Nazis with 'dominated-by-black-man' fantasies?

This, of course, leads to another Google search: Confederate Porn...

The first hit is a porn site that is NOT Pornhub, and what is called Confederate Porn doesn't seem to have much to do with the Nineteenth-Century Southern Society; mostly it is just run-of-the-mill biracial porn:

"Kymora Lee Gets Gangbanged By Many White Guys": Kymora, from the thumbnail, is black. And I gather gets gangbanged by a lot of white guys.

"Black Chick With White Dicks": not sure whether this is black women with white men, or bizarre racial transgenderism -- the thumbnail is of a dog sniffing feet.

There IS "White Neighbor with racist boyfriend sucks me off" -- a bit of racial anger seems to be implied, but -- again -- there is nothing specifically 'Confederate' about it.

Pornhub seems to capture more of the Confederate spirit, but only has four selections, which include:

"Platinum Blonde Dixie Wife has Toe Curling Orgasm on Mississippi"

"Platinum Blonde Dixie Model prefers Mississippi Black Snake"

See? 'Dixie' is in the title. That's kinda Confederate, I think, and they do involve Mississippi, and its infamous black snakes...

And there is also "Pregnant confederate daddy's girl", which is over fifty-four minutes long, and something I really don't want to think about.


I am Laslo.



"Cuckold Racist, Nazi Bitch"

You can tell a lot about a person by the porn they watch. So -- of course -- I Googled 'Nazi Porn'. Yes, my Google Search History is a horrible thing...

Anyway, the first hit is Nazi Porn Videos / Pornhub.

What makes a porn video a Nazi Porn Video? Let's look at some of the titles...

"German actress ordered to strip by Nazi"

"Nazi pussy gets fucked by a fat black cock in the ass"

"Cuckold Racist, Nazi Bitch"

"Nazi techno Girls Music Video"

"Nazi Gets Penetrated by Big Black Jew"

"Nazi Games shemale porn"

"Brunette Nazi Gets Fisted"

"Nazi Threesome"

Interesting, but the only one that is obviously a Nazi-dominance video is "German actress ordered to strip by Nazi" and, possibly, "Cuckold Racist, Nazi Bitch": many of the others concern Nazis on the receiving end, best captured by "Nazi Gets Penetrated by Big Black Jew"...

Either there are not enough Neo-Nazis to get Nazi-dominance higher rankings, or most Nazi-interested porn viewers want to see Nazis get Penetrated and Fisted (assuming I can trust the title of "Brunette Nazi Gets Fisted")...

So: are those that want Nazis to get Penetrated and Fisted an example of a self-loathing in the Neo-Nazi Culture, or are these the viewing habits of a large Antifa contingent?

Something to ponder overnight...



I am Laslo.


Sunday, August 13, 2017

I picture it as being a Mapplethorpe kind of thing, but without the gay overtones.

The Guy Who Sends Pictures of His Cock...

Lately I have been considering sending women photographs of objects inserted into my ass. This would be a big step, however; unlike most American men I have never inserted an object into my ass...

I picture it as being a Mapplethorpe kind of thing, but without the gay overtones. And I am not sure what women would want to see inserted into my ass: a sex toy? A cucumber? A candle? A broomstick...?

Maybe this is what Mapplethorpe would have done with today's technology: he would send photos of objects inserted in his ass to strangers' phones. After all, this is MY art: THIS is how I express myself...

Perhaps I will check out some gay websites: not to look at gay sex, just to get advice on how to put things in your ass. I'm sure technique is important...


I am Laslo.




Photographing your asshole is a lot trickier than photographing your cock...

The Guy Who Sends Pictures of His Cock...

Sure, I still send strangers photos of my cock, but I have to admit I've become more enamored with sending photos of my asshole...

Photographing your asshole is a lot trickier than photographing your cock. Do you shave your butt cheeks? How far do you spread your ass cheeks to view the asshole? Is spreading them too far seen as vulgar...? 

And your balls: do you want your balls in the picture, or just the asshole itself? Without the balls is it still obvious that it is a man's asshole? I think it is obvious that I have a man's asshole, but I would not like people to feel that the photo is inconclusive...

And -- of course -- there is the issue of getting the proper lighting. A dark photo of your asshole could suggest problems with hygiene, and I take great care with my ass hygiene. I want those who see the photos of my asshole to know that my asshole is clean: sending photos of a dirty asshole is sick, and I hope that kind of thing only happens in Eastern Europe......



I am Laslo.


For instance, lighting is important: a shadowy cock can look menacing, and I don't want to scare anyone, I want them to find Joy in seeing my cock...

The Guy Who Sends Pictures of His Cock...

I like my cock. I like the idea of women looking at my cock. So I take pictures, and I send the best ones to strangers...

Not every cock photo is a good cock photo. For instance, lighting is important: a shadowy cock can look menacing, and I don't want to scare anyone, I want them to find Joy in seeing my cock...

I shave the hair from around my cock because it looks better that way in pictures: I want to present the best of my cock. And I realize that when I send my cock photos to strangers that some might end up on the phone of a Gay Man: I am OK with that. A Gay Man looking at my cock does not make me Gay. It doesn't...

I realize some women may not want to receive photos of my cock, but that is probably because they have had bad experiences with cocks. My cock is different: I hope they eventually see that. My cock is NOT the same as the cock of your Asshole Ex-Boyfriend. My cock is NOT the same as the cock of your Daddy or Uncle or whatever...

However, sometimes sending a photo of my cock just isn't enough: that is why I've been experimenting with sending photos of my asshole. Again: lighting is important...



I am Laslo.


"Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four, but that freedom only comes with six bullets in the chamber, two plus two plus two."

From Mickey Spillane's "1984":

"Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past. But all of this means nothing to the control of the man brandishing his rod at you in a dark wet alley."

"“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.” Yeah, the dame said that. She obviously had dark memories as long as her shapely gams."

"The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power. Now you begin to understand me," the mob boss said, ice cubes clinking in his glass of some fancy Scotch favored by the swells."

“It's a beautiful thing, the destruction of words, like watching a women undress in a seedy hotel room, her vanity laid aside like the stockings she dropped on the bed."

"Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four, but that freedom only comes with six bullets in the chamber, two plus two plus two."

"“Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesn't matter, not when your brains are about to be splattered against the brick wall of the back of a Chinese restaurant."

"The cops studiously studied the jellied remains of a face on the asphalt that had been stamped by a boot, seemingly forever."


I am Laslo.


https://althouse.blogspot.com/2017/08/we-cross-our-bridges-as-we-come-to-them.html

Saturday, August 12, 2017

I mean, what if there is no such thing as Ass Addiction, and it is just genetic response?

Hello, everyone. My name is David, and I am an Ass Addict...

It has been twenty-four days since I last grabbed a woman's ass without her permission. I'd love to say it's getting easier, but it is not...

One of the things I have noticed since I have stopped grabbing women's asses: just how many women don't bend their knees when they reach down to pick up something. How can they not know what this does to men like me? How can they not know that their ass straight up and proud in the air is nearly impossible to resist...?

Now, I am not blaming women for my problem. It is my sickness: I own it. But -- damn -- women shouldn't make it so difficult to ignore their asses. There is a girl at the gym I go to, and when she runs on the treadmill I am practically hypnotized by her ass as her ponytail swishes  back-and-forth with her stride...

And I know SHE knows she has a fine ass: she has obvious Ass Pride. But I guess I am supposed to pretend that I don't notice these things. Women put their asses right in our faces and we have to pretend to not look at them, much less touch them. Again: I am not blaming women, there is obviously a biological reason for this, but why am I expected to ignore MY biology..? 

I mean, what if there is no such thing as Ass Addiction, and it is just genetic response? How am I supposed to win against THAT? But then I realize that mind-tricks like this are a representation of the Evil in the world, so I resort to smoking, drinking, and obsessively washing my hands until the skin is raw...

My name is David, and I am an Ass Addict...



I am Laslo.


My name is David, and I am an Ass Addict...

Hello, everyone. My name is David, and I am an Ass Addict...

It has been seventeen days since I last grabbed a woman's ass without her permission. I won't lie: it's been hard. I see them everywhere -- women's asses, just begging to be grabbed. Asses in sundresses, asses in booty shorts, asses in tight jeans, asses in yoga pants: women just aren't afraid anymore to make a Statement with their ass...

Now, I'm not blaming women for my addiction: I own it. It is a sickness. Sometimes the urge to cup a woman's ass with my hand is practically overwhelming. Don't get me wrong: I am not a pervert. It's not like I try to touch their assholes with my fingers or anything, I keep it straight to the buttocks. But I may have accidentally fingered an asshole or two, and for that I am very sorry...

One of the most difficult things is, now when I'm near a woman, I don't know where to put my hands. Because women always seem to position their asses near my hands. Again: I'm not blaming the women -- I don't think they are aware that they are doing it, it's probably just a biological thing where they want to put their asses near men's hands, like, for survival of the species or something...

I've noticed that now that I am not grabbing women's asses I am drinking and smoking WAY too much. That's okay, though: One Day at a Time. You have to solve one problem before you can solve another, and my biggest problem is grabbing women's asses, not drinking and smoking...

God, I hope it gets easier, you know? Like, I was on the bus to this meeting and there was a woman standing by where I was seated, and her ass was RIGHT IN MY FACE. And it was a very nice ass. A VERY nice ass, and a clingy dress, that gently jostled with the movements of the bus. The urge to touch it was excruciating, but I did it: I kept from touching that magnificent ass, and when I got off of the bus I smoked three cigarettes to calm my nerves...

Sometimes I think that by not touching women's asses I am denying my True Self, but the Devil is tricky that way. The Devil lurks in many a woman's ass, and I cannot give in. Today is Day Seventeen, and -- God willing -- if I make it through tomorrow without touching a woman's ass it will be Day Eighteen. My name is David, and I am an Ass Addict...



I am Laslo.


Friday, August 11, 2017

What does all of this matter? I will be consumed in a nuclear conflagration of our President's own making...

"Trump and Self-Worth: the Story of a Broken Man" (excerpt)...

I cannot sleep. How can I sleep? -- I live within missile distance of North Korea, a country needlessly antagonized by our crazed Orange President...

And -- when I cannot sleep -- I find myself returning to the bathrooms of seedy bars, where strange men fuck me in my herpes-riddled ass. When I cannot sleep I find myself sucking diseased cocks in the alley for drug money. What does all of this matter? I will be consumed in a nuclear conflagration of our President's own making...

But if I must die in a nuclear holocaust then I will die RESISTING: that is what I CAN do, and it is what I do each time I have men pee on me in dirty hotel room bathtubs...

I remember Why I Am Here. I remember Who I Am, and What I Stand For. Trump will NOT define me. Trump will NOT define me. Trump will NOT define me...



I am Laslo.


After all, the Chinese love kimchi, the Japanese love kimchi: all Asians love the kimchi...

Moondar Chai-Chai, Human Resources Manager says...

People don't realize the complexities of intersectionality that face a Human Resources manager. A woke business is like Kimchi: it cannot all be Korean radish, other salted and fermented vegetables must be included. Think of "salted and fermented" as Education and Diverse Life Experience and you begin to understand the importance of what I do...

It cannot be all about the Korean radish, nor can it be solely about the ginger: I find the Kimchi analogy very useful in explaining to Asian applicants why their services are not needed at this time. After all, the Chinese love kimchi, the Japanese love kimchi: all Asians love the kimchi...

And this does not even begin to delve into the diversity that is kimchi: there is
Baechu-kimchi, Baek-kimchi, Dongchimi, Kkakdugi, Nabak-kimchi, Pa-kimchi, Yeolmu-kimchi -- you get the idea...

Yet, while Kimchi is appreciated by the Corporation, it cannot be the only item in the Company Cafeteria: there needs to be the inclusion of foods loved by women, African-Americans, Gays, Lesbians and the Transgender Community, too -- foods that make them feel comfortable and safe...

It is my job to make a flavorful company, and to do it without things like pork products that offend our Muslim Associates: again, you understand the analogy, and the delicate balance that is my job...



I am Laslo.


Sunday, August 6, 2017

Oh Lord, I missed those golden days of Obama and Freedom and Not Having Ass Herpes, and not having strangers piss on me for money...

"Trump and Self-Worth: the Story of a Broken Man" (excerpt)...

What hurt the worst about giving unsuspecting strangers my Trump Ass Herpes was that they no doubt hated Trump, too. We were all infected with the man's sour hate, and our assholes would remember this for the rest of our lives...

I gave thought to trying to give Ass Herpes to unsuspecting Trump Supporters so that they could feel MY pain, but none of them existed in my social circles. Sure, I could hang out at redneck bars and try to entice the patrons to ass sex, but -- in the end -- I couldn't do it: having a Trump supporter fuck me in the ass would mean that Trump really REALLY won, and from there I knew there would be no return...

So I would spend the countless mornings rubbing ointments on my Ass Herpes and wondering How I Got Here. Is this what America was, now? Sucking cocks for drug money and having strangers in seedy bars fucking me in my herpes-riddled ass? Surely this was not what Life was supposed to be. Surely this was a brief cosmic joke, and we would return to sanity. Oh Lord, I missed those golden days of Obama and Freedom and Not Having Ass Herpes, and not having strangers piss on me for money...

Oh yes --  having strangers piss on me for money: there were still depths that I would discover, depths that scarred my soul and made my dreams smell like urine...



I am Laslo.


In my heart it was TRUMP fucking me in the ass, it was TRUMP roughly grabbing my ears as I sucked his cock...

"Trump and Self-Worth: the Story of a Broken Man" (excerpt)...

There were times I cried. Not just from having a giant cock shoved in my ass without lube, but from the fear that I could no longer truly be myself under the Trump regime. I hated myself for feeling that way, and when I hated myself this way it was only a short time before I was back in the bathroom of the seedy bar, having a giant cock shoved in my ass without lube...

Yes, I understood the connectivity of this: in my heart it was TRUMP fucking me in the ass, it was TRUMP roughly grabbing my ears as I sucked his cock. Trump had broken me, and sometimes I would refuse to brush my teeth just to continue to taste the Semen of Shame I had swallowed...

The inevitable happened: I got ass herpes. Or, more correctly, TRUMP gave me ass herpes. He didn't do it with his own cock, but the result was the same: I had ass herpes, and yet I could not stop from having men fuck me in the ass in the bathroom of the seedy bar. Oh, the guilt that followed: YOU MADE ME DO THIS, TRUMP! ME GIVING THESE MEN HERPES WAS YOUR FAULT...!



I am Laslo.