The frightening consequences of electroshock therapy
I'm a middle aged government attorney living in a rural section of the northeast U.S. I'm unmarried and come from a very large family. When not preoccupied with family and my job, I read enormous amounts, toy with evolutionary theory, and scratch various parts on my body.
This journal is filled with an enormous number of half-truths and outright lies, including this sentence.
One-sided conversation
"Get the fucker. Stick him in jail."
"I know it's only twenty-five dollars, but how many kids does he have now? Nine?"
"Not nine? Ten? And how many different mothers?"
"Four. Great. And how much time does he spend with your kids?"
"That's right. None. Zippety-do-dah."
"How much time do you think he's going to spend with this new one? Same answer."
"This guy has no self-respect or sense of dignity left. He can't work. He's screwed over everyone who ever cared for him and he has ten kids by four different mothers, and he spends zero time with any of them. He just does not give a shit about anything anymore. He thinks only in terms of his immediate pleasure, because that is all that is left for him."
"He doesn't even think about using a condom or getting a vasectomy. Too much trouble for him. Condoms don't feel good. Why should he bother with an operation?"
"That's why you have to go after the asshole. Because you have to make him think twice before he sticks his penis in another woman. You have to make him realize that there is a price for his pleasure. Put the son-of -a-bitch in jail for not paying you. The pain of jail is the only thing that will make this guy hestitate."
"Don't do it for yourself, because you are right: it is a pathetically small amount of money. Do it so there won't be another kid."
I'm not violating attorney-client privelege here. This was a friend. But I will tell you that through my work I have encountered an astonishingly large number of men of like this fellow.
"I know it's only twenty-five dollars, but how many kids does he have now? Nine?"
"Not nine? Ten? And how many different mothers?"
"Four. Great. And how much time does he spend with your kids?"
"That's right. None. Zippety-do-dah."
"How much time do you think he's going to spend with this new one? Same answer."
"This guy has no self-respect or sense of dignity left. He can't work. He's screwed over everyone who ever cared for him and he has ten kids by four different mothers, and he spends zero time with any of them. He just does not give a shit about anything anymore. He thinks only in terms of his immediate pleasure, because that is all that is left for him."
"He doesn't even think about using a condom or getting a vasectomy. Too much trouble for him. Condoms don't feel good. Why should he bother with an operation?"
"That's why you have to go after the asshole. Because you have to make him think twice before he sticks his penis in another woman. You have to make him realize that there is a price for his pleasure. Put the son-of -a-bitch in jail for not paying you. The pain of jail is the only thing that will make this guy hestitate."
"Don't do it for yourself, because you are right: it is a pathetically small amount of money. Do it so there won't be another kid."
I'm not violating attorney-client privelege here. This was a friend. But I will tell you that through my work I have encountered an astonishingly large number of men of like this fellow.
 I taste like Peanut Butter.I am one of the most blendable flavours; I go with sweet, I go with sour, I go with bland, I go with anything. I am practical and good company, but have something of a tendency to hang around when I'm not wanted, unaware that my presence is not welcome. What Flavour Are You? |
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