Category Archives: Fiction
Dickoloden
While I do not intend on necessarily using this name as a finished project, the other title is “Stickaloadein” or Stick a Lode In. I thought this might make for an interesting idea to converse about.
So essentially this is a fun project that will be one of many parodies and one I think has a market for. The 90’s have been making a huge cum back and now we can re-imagine our favorite old shows, but with a XXX bent.
This will be a DVD project, as opposed to multiple stand alone parodies, because I think that one of the many issues of porn parodies is that they are often too long and have a lot of filler that is just not needed for you to enjoy.
For instance of Klarrisa Does it all parody. No one wants to see Ferguson banging anyone. It’s Sam & Klarrisa that everyone wanted to see bang, from the second that ladder hit her window. Let’s be honest, Ferguson would of been outside his sister’s window, jacking his tiny penis and moaning Donald Trump’s name.
I plan on finding and paying performers who have never done porn before, as opposed to hiring traditional artist. The high number reflects the fact that I desire to actually make this seem as close to the originals, right down to set design as I can without going over budget.
Given the fact there have been tons of parodies out their, coupled with the nostalgia for the 1990’s, this seems like an idea ripe for the picking.
What do you think of the idea?
Please feel free to comment and suggest things about the Indiegogo campaign.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/dickoloden–2/x/13473227#/
Is Darth Vader Alive?
“There has been an awaking in the force, have you felt it?”-Snoke
So, there is a fan theory going around about Snoke in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, being Darth Vader/Anakin. While a lot of people think that it is a good idea, they have spent time pointing out holes in this theory.
This is an interesting concept and while I do not know of the original source of the idea to credit, I can say that it is actually plausible if you keep these key ideas in mind, regarding the story.
“He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became known as Darth Vader.”-Obi Wan
This quote right here separates Anakin from Darth Vader, giving this idea the hypothesis we need to have it make sense. The idea that Anakin and Darth Vader are separate characters. While I cannot say this is the most likely idea to happen within the next two episodes, it does all make logical sense.
George Lucas is a student of mythology, keeping very close to the basic structure of ancient mythology. There is an old Native American parable, about two wolves fighting and the one that grows is the one you feed. This thread is strewen throughout the entire seven films of the Saga. So it very much keeps to the same theme. Right now, we have Kylo with his struggle of being both good and bad, unsure which side to keep going down. This duality in human nature is present in us all.
In order for the concept to make sense, Anakin’s deeds, which were horrible, ended up creating two different entities. Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker, as referenced by the quote above. Perhaps his suit was tainted with the essence of the horrible deeds, once he descended towards the dark side or maybe the split in them came from a different source, but regardless, it is still plausible for this to hold true. Darth Vader would be Snoke, not Anakin. Anakin, being redeemed at the end, would then become a good force ghost. Thus, Anakin fulfils the prophecy of bring balance to the force. Whereas before, the only two ways for Anakin to have brought balance to the force would have been to have died or never been found and trained, this allows for a much different story than what we have come to know from the prequels and original trilogy. Vader would now be his own character and so would Anakin, thus bringing balance to the force by existing on both sides, rather than tilting the balance towards whichever side he is serving, truly fulfilling his destiny within the Star Wars Universe.
While it is too early to say if this is where the story is going, we do know that we are going to see a reverse character arc at the very least, within the next two movies of the main cannon. They already attached Rian Johnson, who is known for reverse character arcs with Breaking Bad. So it isn’t impossible, although not 100% likely.
Best in Your Girl: The Novel.
Chapter One
The glass on the den windows vibrated from the strong winds pounding against it with an intensity reminiscent of a starship pulling out of warp speed and just barely colliding with an asteroid A powerful thud, but unscathed.
I reached out and grabbed the large black remote from the coffee table turned on the television, pushing my way through boring show, after boring show, until I came upon the weather channel, which was still far better than whatever sitcom was popular. I muttered to myself, then allowed the meteorologist his say. His voice was thick and masculine, like a Russian who could speak English with the precision of a native. “Looks like you’re getting 18’ massive inches of snow, with gale force winds coming in off the oceans within the next hour.”
I moved towards the window and stared into the black abyss that was the night, watching as the sky spurted little flakes of white snow, which slowly drifted downward and accumulated upon the window sill of my den. Chills ran up my back as Goosebumps were aroused on my forearms, sending me to the other side of the house to grab myself a towel, in order to clean up the snow that would most likely force itself through the tight window opening, without mercy, ravaging the beautiful hard wood floors with unsightly bumps and buckles, unless someone made sure to use the proper protective barrier to prevent such.
Only a few moments had passed when a huge dong sprang forth from the living room, cutting through the tension of the night, saving me from the hardcore debauchery of loneliness that pillaged the inside of my mind, driving me to the brink of madness and all without the radiance of Edgar Allen Poe’s elegant prose to make the lingering pain of despairs engorged embrace upon my soul even more burdensome.
Moving over towards the fireplace, I snatched the whiskey off the mantel, removed the cap and brought the long, glass handle to my mouth, allowing the sweet ambrosia to fill my mouth and swallowed a swing in one massive gulp. My face slowly grew flushed as my capillaries burst, giving forth the slow rise to comfort and the illusion of warmth, which became displaced by the wetness of my pants, nestling itself right between my legs, making my pajama bottoms cling to my inner thigh. I hadn’t noticed the sticky liquid that had been spilled upon my pants when I grabbed the towel from the bathroom. I was too buzzed from the whiskey to be even mildly annoyed by the inconvenient spillage. I curled my lip and undid my bathrobe as I approached the bookcase and pulled down on the book, opening up the doorway to the spiral staircase that descended into the depths of depravity that was my underground lair.
I pushed through the spiral doorway into a room dimly lit rectangular room, which would have been all but an inkwell of darkness if not for the small amount of lighting, which expressed itself through six, square-shaped windows in the ceiling above, allowing the silken gold light to rain down and envelop the bed in its warm, passionate embrace, as if a beacon had descended from the heavens, carving a path to the siren that was my bed and enveloping it in a warm and passionate embrace, which would surely be the demise of my night if I was to succumb to the temptations which it proffered.
Lights on, I command with the same “swagger” Ali Baba must have wielded outside the den of thieves an eon earlier. The lights turned on slowly, like a strike to the match that would fully engulf the head with a flame, hypnotically dancing in the dark. A large black book lay on the bedside table, which, was insipidity titled little black book. I sunk down into the bed as I sat upon it and opened up the book containing head shots of woman who I had met over the years, each one with name and number beside them, three hole punched for easy flipping through the binder and all labeled according to hair color, age, body type, sexual predilections and more. I flipped through pages upon pages of woman from which I had my pick, depending on my mood and desires, stopping on the last page of the book.
Her name was Christine Hernandez, She was a new addition, older and shorter than myself, with beautiful eyes that were gateways into her soul. The hues would change color and intensity based on her mood. One look could take you on an adventure and the next would destroy you where you stood. The same could be said of her hair, fiery red when she was temperamental and blue when she was sad. She couldn’t hide the nature of how she felt even if she tried, because they were as much a part of her as the blood in her veins. Connected as one, yet separate entities. One look at her and I was instantly hypnotized by how she seemed to transcend her humanity and yet was completely held down to earth at the same time. She was her own yin and yang and quite frankly, it drove me crazy with delight.
Carefully, I removed the head shot from the top loader and grabbed the number on the back and dialed it into the phone. Pressing send, I watched as the seconds ticked up and the sound of the tone echoed in my ear, then a click, followed by a sultry voice on the other end and with a simple hello, I was reduced to rubble.
Kickstart my Heart.
It is that time of year, when men everywhere forget to make plans for that romantic getaway, woman weep because they’re single and I can buy a large box of chocolates for $45.00 that only comes with one piece of candy that I like and about 35 pieces that I do not like, which taste no better than a common candy bar at the store. Yes, the Christmas. Er, Valentine’s day is here again.
I’m not opposed to love, If you manage to find love, fantastic! My main concern is wondering why we need a stationary day to express our appreciation for the person that we’re in love with. Call me crazy, but if you’re in love, finding a day to express appreciation for your significant other should be the easiest thing in the world. Why could you show love for them just as much on August the 15th as you could on February the 14th? The boot to the economy, that is why, plus snow. Fuck you, snow!
Going outside seems to be a wicked pissah for anything that isn’t going to work or something else that isn’t obligatory in the winter time, but it can be just as fun as any and without the bullshit of macro holidays that have little meaning.
Which brings me to my next gripe with Valentine’s Day. When everyone is doing it at the same time, doesn’t it lack any semblance of being a special day? There is no surprise factor. Much like a flu shot for the millionth year in a row, it is mundane and routine. I think Valentine’s Day should be randomly assigned to a specific day each year, so that it is slightly more interesting. So starting with 2016, that special day could just as easily be the 25th of May as it is the 14th of February. Watching people scramble only two weeks ahead of time lends to Valentine’s Day the same excitement as a football game or a car chase.
This single handily increases the worth of the day tenfold, which is great, because the other reason for finding this holiday to be a pissah is walking down the street and seeing all those single zombies slushing by with a grocery bag filled with Häagen-Dazs ice cream to cry and slowly feed themselves to death over the fact they don’t feel worthy of love. That is just the men that I’m talking about, never mind the woman who keep tissues at hand more readily than a teenage boy and feel much worse and drives them to watch movies like Fifty Shades of Grey.
Speaking of bad decisions, while I’m at it, Valentine’s Day should be put on the schedule list of drugs. “Scientifically” speaking, Valentine’s Day, much like cocaine or heroin, often leads to bad decisions and not just the hideously awesome sweaters that you’ll wear once a year, but choices made out of desperation, just to not be alone when everyone else has someone. Like using dating profiles or worse, binge watching romantic comedies on Netflix. What other worse decisions could possibly be made than watching Four Christmas’ two months after the fact? Come on government, these atrocities need to be prevented, because no American deserves to be tortured by Vince Vaughn’s “acting.” It is inhumane and cruel and unusual punishment on both the psyche and the body, all because someone is single?
If Valentine’s Day has taught us anything, thought, it is that people need someone validating their “love” like it is a parking garage ticket, which is a shame, because true love should need no affirmation from anyone other than the two people involved.
The best way to express your feelings for a person isn’t with an expensive hotel room or hundred dollar box of chocolate that comes with a wicked awesome 10ft teddy bear–which in no way have I bought for myself, ever!—but with a simple kiss of appreciation for what your partner brings to the table on any day of the year and not just once. Simple expressions throughout the year make for a lot more than once a year when you try to compete with the world to show people how in love you are. Much like a closeted homosexual, it is obvious to everyone that isn’t you that you aren’t in love.
Oh well, at least the 15th of February rocks, because 50% off Valentine’s Day candy is the shit!
(Minor corrections on 15 FEB 2015)
Best in Your Girl Podcast 1.0
http://bestinyourgirl.podomatic.com/swf/joe_multiplayer_v112.swf
Transcript 1.0
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Hello and welcome to my very first podcast, the first ever best in your girl podcast. You come for the Kage and stay for the awesome and let’s be honest, who doesn’t come for Kage?
You’re not getting a catchy hook, meant to lure you into the show, at least not yet. In other words, music wasn’t needed to get you to give this format a chance and I’m pleased to have you listening. In the future, we might need to add something catchy to listen to, but for now, we are music non grata.
So let me get right into the podcast and that is about one thing, an extremely interesting night I had back in May of this year.
Yes kids, we’re going back to the past for something that I think, was really hilarious. Hell, if you don’t think this is funny, you might not have a pulse, because it is without a doubt the worst sexual encounter in the history of sexual encounters and then I want to make mention to another topic, which I think you’ll be interesting. If you recall, I wrote an essay called the cult of personality and this is an extrapolation to those thoughts, so without future ado, here…we…go!
One night, I was alerted to a message on a website, Plenty of Fish. It’s a dating website and like most dating websites, it’s not very good and doesn’t have a lot of option. It’s free, for the most part, so we get what we pay for. I didn’t message her first, she messaged me. Great start to a mediocre night.
I replied and we got the ball rolling. Now, what was said was mundane and uninteresting, but it is irrelevant to the story.
The point was reading between the lines and boy did I. She was very interested in sex. She didn’t say that, exactly, but I tend to read between the lines because fuck me, I’m arrogant like that.
Yes, this arrogant son of a bitch is read between the lines, because that’s what you do when you want to enjoy the end means, which is sex.
Now, I play back and forth, maybe, nah, fine I guess I can come over. So I make a short trek to the other side of town and find her waiting upon her porch.
I ascend the stairs to the third floor and greet her. She seems optimistic enough and we “enjoy” some alright conversation.
Meanwhile, inside, I’m awaiting for a family member of hers to leave for the night and so see her boyfriend, presumably to do the same exact thing that I was hoping to do, which is sexy times.
Now, once we’re inside, finally, I’m still waiting for this young woman to leave and give us our space. It was about midnight when I left and three a.m. by the time I got space. So, naturally, I’m tired and not in the mood to be sauve so I say fuck it, and just blurt out, want to fuck?
Yes, she does. Great, let us adjourn to the bedroom so as to better express our carnality and enjoy the debauchery. I don’t say this, because I want the sex and sex isn’t literature, so fuck it, we’re doing it live!
kissing is awkward. I mean, George Takei in Star Trek, kissing the beautiful Nichelle Nichols. (Quick digression, why does Microsoft word say I misspelled Nichelle Nichols’ name wrong when it’s right, but knows I misspelled George Takei’s last name wrong?)
I get her on the bed, pants off and have a go orally. A few minutes of this and that. I ask her if she want to suck my dick and in her best John Waters impersonation “yeeeesssss.” I like her enthusiasm. Good god, is this the worst head imaginable. My dick isn’t a carrot, please do not scrape it with teeth. I’ve had so much better. So then I’m like, let’s just skip to fucking and so we do. This sex sucked so bad, you would have sworn we were virgins. We had the sexual chemistry of a dial up connection.
I plunged into her with my engorged phallus and proceed to promptly ask the question no man wants to hear a woman ask, and is even worse when he has to ask it himself, am I in yet? Yes, I had to ask that. The plus side, at least I got her to try anal and she never would, so hey, go it wasn’t all bad for me. Who am I fucking kidding, yes, yes it was.At one point, I had to say fuck it and have her on top. She does her thing for a few seconds and next thing I know, she’s off of me. Having the worse night of my life, I become a fuckin’ cliché and ask, did you? Big smile, yes. She looks me in the eye and says, did you. I pause, and answer, no.
I thought woman looked bored when their husbands thrust away and not notice the dull look in their eye and here I am with the opposite problem; a very wet and into it woman with a guy who is board as fuck!
So Kage ended the night because the condom came off and I didn’t bring back ups. Which I’m glad, because it would have been boring until 6 in the morn. Needless to say, I had to finish myself off. Could have stayed home, but nope.
Now there is one thing about this story that I didn’t mention in the beginning and it’s here now to segway into the next topic.
If you have two thousand or so fans, do you count as a celebrity? If you read cult of personality, you now the very definition of celebrity is celebrated, thus even with a rather paltry amount of fans, she must count, right?
So if anyone out there listing has a celebrity fantasy, I don’t want to burst your bubble, but if you’ve built it up over the years, you are most likely in for a rude awakening.Seriously, do not have pre-conceived notions about anyone you desire to fuck. Have a fantasy about anyone is healthy and fine. You’re not weird and it happens to most people, usually when you’re younger. Occasionally older, but its fine.
Brings me to the next part, which is, of course, how you might find yourself in such a predicament. Now, this isn’t my first rodeo, but this is probably the first time I failed backwards into banging a person with fans. That sounds right, because celebrity should be reserved for someone who has a wider following. It’s the difference between cult following and summer blockbuster. This was the Rocky Horror Picture Show of sex. In other words, It was great when it all began, but ended with a floor show.
Now, for those of you who are awesomely challenged, let me tell you something, I’m a nerd par excellence. The fact I know what that last sentence means, gives me the credibility to refer to myself as such.
Look at how verbose my writing is. If that isn’t nerdy, I don’t know what is, but let us be honest, nerd or not, few are as awesome as I am.
If you’re listening, you are either as awesome as I am or you want to be.
Now back to the topic at hand, I desire to express you to the following, which is that anyone and I do mean anyone, can have sex with anyone they desire. Yes, even you. I see your mid-90’s Chicago Bulls jersey and much like the bulls you haven’t had a championship in years. Prepare yourself, because you just might find yourself back in the playoffs, unlike the bulls.
There is no simple pill that you can take to become awesome, all it takes is a dose of testicular fortitude. That’s right, to borrow from Sarge in the Gears of War series, nut the hell up, son!
That is it, really, just grow a pair. Nothing to it. Now, if you want to bang a “celebrity.” Well, same applies. Seriously, that’s it. They’re people too and that is something that needs to be made clear.
I don’t think I need to mention that persistence is probably not best for business when pursuing this personal endeavor. Remember kids, its persistence when you’re famous and stalking when you’re not.
Should you find yourself, say, were a seemingly innocuous meet cute might happen to arise, then why not? you really have nothing to lose, other than the perhaps the desire to ever fondle a “celebrity” again.
You should, of course, treat everyone you come across with some basic human respect. In other words, your end game probably shouldn’t be a routine fuck and chuck. Make it seem less conspicuous. Unless you’re dealing with a rock star, than fuck it and rock out with your cock or pussy out.
There is really nothing preventing you from them, other than perhaps a restraining order for your “persistence.” The librarian down the street can get one of those as well, though. So you really don’t have an excuse, just do not be a dick.
If you recall, I made mention that idolization of anyone is a really, really dumb prospect. I think, as the doc has always said, that if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything. I really believe this and that’s why I’m making this my first topic. My sex life is like Kevin Smith’s film career, if I can do it, anyone can. Plus it’s life, that’s kind of what happens, you fail upwards.
Just a few tips to keep in mind, should you be ballsy enough to go take a shot from the half court line with less than a minute on the clock in the final four.
1. Be polite. This isn’t redundant. It’s basic edict for all human beings.
2. Introductions. Not everyone is known by everyone. Even if you know them, odds are, someone might not.
3. Act or actually be interested in them. Everyone’s favorite topic is themselves, but do not be too interested that you downplay yourself. In other words, don’t be a fanboy or girl.
4. Maintain eye contact and exude confidence.
5. When in doubt, treat them as you would a friend.
This is good advice for dealing with anyone. You could attempt to be cocky, but save it for the pros.
So until next time, remember that life is just a ride and we can change it, anytime we want to.
Life’s a Bitch and then you Die.
“Life’s a bitch and then you die” says one Massachusetts doctor. Asking to remain anonymous, Doctor X has been studying the effects of life on humans for over twenty-five years now. “We’ve discovered that you start to die the minute you’re born.” he said, adding “and it sucks until then.”
For such a bleak prognosis, surely there must be a cure. According to Dr. X, no cure is in sight. He explained “We’ve been looking for a cure for years. Life has a 100% mortality rate. You’re going to die and possibly sooner than you think.”
Dr. X explained to this reporter that this need not be something to worry about. “Lots of people die, every day. The trick is to live before that happens.” he added. A tall order for some people, he knows, but when Asked about what people could do to make their life less of a bitch, all Doctor X had to say was “I find drugs help.”
I inquired as to what type of drugs he has prescribed to patients in the past. “All of them.” he said. “Do as many drugs as humanly possible. I mean, odds are good that you’ll die tomorrow, so what the hell, right?” When asked if there was anything else he would like people to know, he said “Fuck and fuck often” Quickly adding “While on drugs.”
A Chance I didn’t Take.
Writer’s Note* Wrote this as a school assignment when I was 22. Kind of old, but those who read it, enjoy it.
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There once was a chance I didn’t take. It was, oh, so long ago now. I was twenty-two and fresh out of college, when I met this beautiful woman, by the name of Allison. Allison was ten years my senior, but that didn’t matter to me. She had gorgeous ruby red lips, which resembled a fresh apple that commanded you sink your teeth into it. Her long auburn hair, which smelled of watermelon, and contrasted with her baby blue eyes, and had long sweet natural waves, that washed over her head like the sea against the beach on a clear, moonlight night. She had a little tattoo on her forearm, which was classy, more so than trashy. She could be the envy of any woman that might have had the misfortune to stand next to her.
We met one night, after work, at the local bar. I all ready had a couple of drinks in me, and I was a bit tipsy. Thats’ when I turned around on the bar stool and saw her. I don’t know weather it was the alcohol or what, but I swear she had one of those slow motion entrances you only see in the movies. I fell out of my seat in front of her. She giggled and in a soft, tender voice, asked if I was all right. I pulled myself up, dusted off and said.”I’m fine” She gazed at me with a seductive look and said “You definitely are.” Now, I’m never one to be so bold, even when liquid courage is coursing its way through my veins, but in a low voice I managed to ask “Would you care to get out of here?” She said she would, then whispered in my ear. I grew excited and we left.
Since I was all ready near inebriation, we took her car and headed to the local liquor store. I went in and grabbed the cheapest wine with the most expensive sounding name, so I could impress her and not break my wallet at the same time. I quickly paid for the wine and made a mad dash for the car. Allison peeled out of the parking lot and we sped to the local park. Thankfully, no one was around, so we laid out a blanket she had in her trunk and shared the wine straight from the bottle. By this time I was fully smashed and ballsy to boot, so I kissed her. We proceeded to make out like two teenagers. But it must of been a mixture of the adrenaline and the booze, because I don’t remember what happened after that.
I awoke the next morning in my bed, with a throbbing headache. My vision was slightly blurred, but I could still make out that the clock said 9:00 am. Being late for work, I had no time to change or shower, so I just went in with what I had on. As I entered work, my supervisor looked at me and said “Wild night, huh?” It must have been the smell of booze wafting off me, along with the ruffed up look of my clothes that tipped him off. I nodded to him, my head hurt to bad to speak.”Be sure to tell me all about it at lunch” he said. I nodded again in agreement and he went off on his way.
The rest of the day went by slow. At about eleven, I was finishing off paper work at my desk, when I reached into my pocket to find a folded piece of paper. It was a note from Alison, which read “Call me tonight” and had her phone number on it. I quickly flipped open my cell phone and started to dial when I was interrupted by a delivery guy. He placed a package on my desk and handed me a clip board to sign. Thats when I noticed the tattoo on his forearm. The same koi fish. It looked to be the same tattoo Alison had. I was going to pass it off as mere coincidence, but curiosity got the best of me. As the delivery guy left, I punched in Alison’s number and hit send. At that same moment, the delivery guy answered his cell and a man’s voice answered on mine. I quickly hung up as fast as I could. Maybe it was a coincidence, but that was a chance I wasn’t going to take.
Sexually Liberated Woman vs The Slut
There seems to be, at least to me, people confusing the idea of a sexually liberated woman and a slut as one and the same thing. This is just not true and is something that needed to be taken to task for a long time.
I think these ideas of that just sleeping around is equality for woman, is something that is being passed onto younger females and it is a bad thing to be passing on. You’re teaching these girls that if men can sleep around, so can’t they. This argument isn’t logical and we don’t take the time to think about what it really means to be sexually liberated as opposed to being an outright slut.
How often do you hear someone calling a woman a “slut”, when she may in-fact, not be one? A lot of woman use the term “slut” to denigrate other woman. Some use it as a greeting, much like black modified the dreaded N-word to great one another. Some use it as a joking poke: ”Oh, you’re such a slut” Granted, a lot of women oppose the idea of being a slut and some will even try to justify the behavior of a slut as a woman being “sexually liberated” yet, that isn’t true at all. We throw the term slut, around too lightly. Why, then, do we get riled up when our daughters grow up to become the later, rather than the former, all under the guise of being sexually liberated? Allow me to give you a clue as to what separates a slut, over the sexually liberated
The slut, quite often, sleeps around and has many, many partners.The sexually liberated woman is one who may have had many partners in her past. So what separates the two? A little thing called personal responsibility. The sexually liberated woman exercises personal responsibility, where as the slut only exercises that hole between her legs.
The sexually liberated woman will sleep with any man she wants or even none at all. The slut will also sleep with any man she wants. What is the difference? The Sexually Liberated woman will exercise discrimination, on who she sleeps with. The slut won’t discriminate and sleep with just about any man giving her attention.
The sexually liberated woman uses condoms. She makes sure the man has one, and if not, she will provide her own. The slut is lucky if she even knows what a condom is, never mind how to use one.
The Sexually liberated woman isn’t just looking for attention. She, like any man, desires physical pleasure as well. The slut will make out with anyone 10 feet from the closest camera. Remember, whores are not just whores in the bedroom; they are whores in all aspects of their lives, especially when it involves attention.
The sexually liberated woman will get sexually transmitted infection testing every few months, to ensure her health and the health of her partners. If she is in a long lasting relationship, she may, of course, forgo these test, unless she has reason to suspect she might need one, do to her or her partners infidelity, or if they choose a swingers lifestyle, or some other valid reason. The slut thinks the STD test is something you have to take to get a job and is the equivalent to a high school diploma.
The slut may go months, and months of unprotected sex, possibly accumulating many sexually transmitted infections along the way, and possibly infected many unsuspecting partners because of her own ignorance or her lack of respect for anyone she sleeps with, by just withholding the information back.
We cannot blame the slut for passing all of the sexually transmitted infections in the world. We need to blame the man who didn’t exercise his personal responsibility by going for the quick piece of ass, rather than looking for better quality woman, who exercises her personal responsibility.
Some more signs include:
Where are you picking her up?
If you’re picking her up in a bar, chances are someone you know did the same thing the night before. You won’t find sexually liberated woman making out with other sexually liberated woman in a club to shitty hip-hop to draw your attention to them. You’ll find them everywhere else, but clubs and bars. If you do happen come across one at the club, then that is a woman out of her element and you’re lucky or easily fooled.
If you found her on Craigslist she is probably an emotional train wreck. These women are very dangerous. A lot of them are disgruntled over a past relationship, most likely, they are not fully over it yet and you’ll bear the brunt of it. Stay away, for sluts and emotional wrecks await ye at Craigslist.
How many kids does she have?
If the woman you are thinking about fucking has had a lot of kids, or does have a lot of kids, and the fathers vary, you’ll want to stay away. Sexually Liberated woman wouldn’t have a lot of children, and if they did, it wouldn’t be with multiple fathers, because they have respect for themselves and that is why they use caution with personal responsibility, to make sure unwanted pregnancy doesn’t happen. Yet, the slut may have many children, and usually, those kids are taken by the state, yet, they can’t keep their legs and continue to produce more offspring to make them feel better, entrap men and get free money from the system. The do not exercise personal responsibility at all, and you’ll be wise to stay far away from them.
Of course, the list could go on and on about the difference, but the best way to tell isn’t always by looking, but by a woman’s actions. If she appears to be irresponsible for her own actions, she will be this way in all her endeavors and you should stay away.
Do you feel like your pee burns just from looking at her?
If you can’t even look at a woman without your penis itching, or your pee burns just thinking of her, than you are in the presence of a bona fide slut, and not a sexually liberated woman. Congrats, you probably have aids now.
In other words, sluts are men and sexually liberated woman are just that, woman.
