My Sordid Past

I'm feeling pretty dead inside, and since people want to know more about me, I figured I'd hackney together a post about something that people who are dead inside have no problem doing. Something I had no compunction doing in the past. This will probably be something that my mother won't want to read about, so Mom, if you read, read at your own risk and don't try  to talk to me about it after.

So about a year and a half ago was my last big manic episode, and you know what I did for fun? I hunted weak men. My thrill in life was identifying, seducing, and fucking weak-willed men, and all the more fun if they had a girlfriend or wife. Once I had them in my net-- but not in my bed-- I gave them a set of ground rules:

1. I am not your girlfriend. We are not dating.
2. You are not the only man that graces my bed.
3. Don't show up unannounced at my house.
4. Be discreet. You want to  cheat on your wife/girlfriend? Fine. Keep your yap shut. Bragging and/or telling others is only going to get your stupid ass in trouble.

See, I subscribed to the philosophy of "if your girlfriend/wife isn't taking care of your needs I can, but I won't take any other role." And I was fine with that. I felt no shame, and I still don't. Nor is it a point of pride for me. It's something in my past, a learning opportunity that people are weak, and can be exploited. And that is fun. Does it make me a horrible person? Probably.

Like I said, dead inside.