Well OK, yes. The time came. I will not belabor the point, but yes I have joined the commune in the Book of Feces – sorry, I mean Book of Faces, so called (preferring to avoid the penchant for the duo-syllabic lingo of the current era – I’d rather this more phrase based nomenclature, if you will. A tad more elegant.). Resistance has proved futile, obviously, and I have suffered the berating of far too many a real, meat-space friend at this point for my not being one of the %99 to be able to stand.

And so I bend over and will take it like a man…or a bonobo…or perhaps like the drunk whore, Tralala,  in Hubert Selby Jr.’s Last Exit to Brooklyn who gets gang-banged by the entire neighborhood and the local Navy barracks boys and is left unconscious and bleeding on the hood of a car. I can’t wait!

Soon the excitement of my virgin ass will all be forgot and I’ll just be one more following in step. Mind you, I’ve found a way to just post to my site and have it feed to the fecesbook so I can work in the aesthetic purity of my preferred familiar surroundings so might not see your proddings and pokings. Please never be afraid to contact me directly.

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2 Responses to Bending over…

  1. Tracy says:

    Whatever makes you happy, m’dear. You are the best judge of what is good, bad, harmless or uncool for y’self…. Personally, I like turtles.

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