Dark Confessions


I figured at some point I should just start admitting it, the thought of it, that is, was all that it ever was, because to act on such a thought makes one a slut or a whore and you might stop short of that on occasion or completely forego any labels at all by only having drunken sex with your spouse or yourself and a random event that you probably don’t want to remember. What is that? Is that 50 Shades of Grey woman as rich as Harry Potter now? If so, there could be future in the archives of madness, a marquis de sade in reverse that never happens. I mean did that former network ‘exec’ in England (I swear they have a different job there, I just know it and I hate them for it) goes off and writes some graphic porographic erotic novellas—I started it, I can tell it’s compelling or was in the day but it’s actually got too much character for me! What is wrong with me? I must be able to exploit this for cold, hard cash. There must be a way, and it really should get easier with age…

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