“I had no intention of doing so, since, as I have once remarked in the course of these confessions, there are few physiques I loathe more than the heavy low-slung pelvis, thick calves and deplorable complexion of the average coed (in whom I see, maybe, the coffin of coarse female flesh within which my nymphets are buried alive).”—
“Quite simply, my father was an intelligent man. From my cradle onward I was surrounded by replicas of ancient art; at ten years of age I read Gil Blas, at twelve La Pucelle. Where others had Hop-o’-my-thumb, Bluebeard, Cinderella, as childhood friends, mine were Venus and Apollo, Hercules and Lackoon. My husband’s personality was filled with serenity and sunlight. Not even the incurable illness which fell upon him soon after our marriage could long cloud his brow. On the very night of his death he took me in his arms, and during the many months when he lay dying in his wheel chair, he often said jokingly to me: ‘Well, have you already picked out a lover?’ I blushed with shame. ‘Don’t deceive me,’ he added on one occasion, ‘that would seem ugly to me, but pick out an attractive lover, or preferably several. You are a splendid woman, but still half a child, and you need toys.’”—Venus in Furs, by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch
And when, by means of pitifully ardent, naively lascivious caresses, she of the noble nipple and massive thigh prepared me for the performance of my nightly duty, it was still a nymphet’s scent that in despair I tried to pick up, as I bayed through the undergrowth of dark decaying forests.
find a match, good ping, buncha low level noobs too.. huge XP comin my way i say out loud.
headshot a couple faggots in the first 30 seconds of the match, plowing my way onto their side of the map. there it is. perfect, defenseless. but.. what the frack.. their flag is a blonde barely legal babe?! OWNAGE!!
i fireman carry her a little ways, but shes shrieking and squirming.. the camera pulls back and she pulls away, and its ME in the game!! With a smokin hot bitch!! Im pressing the shoulder button as fast as i can, but she pushes me down to the cold dirt and kicks me in the mouth. she calls me a chubby baby, and snatches at my exposed belly rolls. I press A to get back up but she kicks me over again. its not fair, i hate going to gyms, but shes so much stronger than me. a bunch of the other players (GOONS no less!) are watching and typing lol into teamspeak.. why arent they helping me. shes pulling at my disgusting pony tail, calling me a disgusting piece of shit, acting like she cant tell the difference between my mustache and the dirt im laying in. You cant DO this!! im a fucking moderator!!!!!!!
“If any of you fine people ordered buttons from me in the past couple months, I want to apologize. Because the little motherfuckers just bounced back to me in the mail, crying about “inadequate postage due to unusual size/shape”. I will be re-posting them immediately, and I apologize humbly for the inexcusable delay.”—GIBBERINGS - If I Looking for Button
A normal man given a group photograph of school girls or Girl Scouts and asked to point out the comeliest one will not necessarily choose the nymphet among them. You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your loins and a super-voluptuous flame permanently aglow in your subtle spine (oh, how you have to cringe and hide!), in order to discern at once, by ineffable signs— the slightly feline outline of a cheekbone, the slenderness of a downy limb, and other indices which despair and shame and tears of tenderness forbid me to tabulate—the little deadly demon among the wholesome children; she stands unrecognized by them and unconscious herself of her fantastic power.
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”—Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
“i stand in front of the bathroom mirror. first, softly, “i am hitler”. then, louder “i am hitler” and even louder “i. am. hitler!” the cat comes in. she is hungry but there is no food”—Hitler Auditions
Many years ago, a young boy named Xavier happened upon an enchanted Cabbage Patch, where he found very special Little People who called themselves Cabbage Patch Kids. To help fulfill the Cabbage Patch Kids' dream of having families with whom to share their love, Xavier set about building a special place known as Babyland General, where the kids remain until each is chosen for adoption. Won't you adopt a Cabbage Patch Kid and fill a little heart with love?
I had a Cabbage Patch doll; she was mixed-race because my parents are insanely progressive.
This is the prevalent sentiment I am getting from my job search and it is fucking frustrating as someone who did not get to go somewhere where I could even have internship opportunities and now being out of school, I’m disqualified for all the ones I come across.
People with jobs got those jobs by doing one of two things: