Blog post #1

I’m thinking about the best dream I’ve ever had again. I was married to Rihanna and we were riding a carousel together. She had 3 kids from a previous marriage but I didn’t care. They weren’t around. We didn’t even fuck in the dream. I felt genuine fulfillment that transcended the carnal state of perpetual horniness I am trapped in all day, every day, except for the 30 second periods of clarity I enjoy after jacking off into my toilet. This, among other things, has made me realize that I must castrate myself if I want to be truly happy. In doing so, I will become a great feminist (ending the male gaze/my problematic horniness) and an even better singer (when people chop their in nuts off in Italy, they become better singers). It’s a no-brainer really. Some of you may be saying, in really stupid, whiny voices, “that’s idiotic. What if you want to have kids later?” Well, genius, maybe I’ll adopt them from Africa or south-east Asia. Whose the idiot now? That’s right, it’s you. Look at yourself. You disgust me.

While you all are shitting out beige turd clones, I’ll be fostering impoverished youth and combatting overpopulation, which in turn will abate global warming and ease the food shortages that are sure to begin in the next quarter-century. I’m a big picture guy, and chopping my own dick off is a big picture move. I’m a REAL ally for chopping my dick off. Chopping your dick off is woke, and I’m allergic to sleep.

I’m sure some of the more small minded people who read this will disagree, but everyone like me (purposefully bombed the IQ test to try to get a 69, ended up with a 58 and now can’t legally drive) knows that self-castration is not only smart; it’s a moral imperative.

It took me ten minutes to write this. Thank you for reading.