Right-Click This, Bitch

Recently, I was told by a certain anonymous female that I would never have a normal relationship with a girl, due to my addiction to porn.

At first, I blew it off as just another broad running her gums. But the more I thought about it, the more my demented mind wandered. I considered my last girlfriend, who said "The only thing you're compatible with is a whore". Although I could've sworn I was highly compatible with her fat ass, I let her shenanigans slide and charged it to the game.

I thought about my relationships before my so-called "addiction". They mostly consisted of me taking a bitch out for dinner and movie, your everyday chit-chat, and me attempting to get her in the sack. I would get laid every now and then, and that mostly came down to regular missionary, some doggy-style and my half-hearted attempts at oral gratification.

Fast forward to 1998, when my girlfriend (at the time) introduced me to the Internet. As slow as our dial-up connection was, I still managed to download thousands of thumbnail images of whores spread-eagle. I spent hours upon hours online, attempting to find girls a few days past their 18th birthday doing the nastiest of things. If I do have any kind of "addiction", this may well be when it started. A few years, and a few sluts, later I came across the greatest invention ever. High Speed Internet Access. The Broadband. Not only could I now download those stills, now I was able to download entire full-length movies. If anything, this is when my so-called "addiction" was nourished and grew. The things I saw on the Web, I had never imagined would be accessible so quickly, and freely, as this.

Now I think about my relationships since the discovery of cable/DSL, and the more I think about it, that bitch might have been right. I may never have a normal relationship with a girl again. I've stopped taking bitches out to the movies or to eat. If they're lucky, they might get a burger shoved down their throat. I've also all but eliminated the polite chatter. My only goal now is to stick my man organ so far into them that their mothers feel it. Missionary and cunnilingus are no longer offered on the menu. Foreplay is a running start. Doggy style is preferred, but it's a bit more hardcore. Legs spread more open. Deeper pulverization. Thumb-in-her-ass type of dog-in-heat rutting.

And now I try to make them squirt. I humiliate my sexual partners with moves like The Alabama Dinner Special*, The Machine Gun Kelly, or every girl's favorite, The Winnie the Pooh. So I think about that goddamned bitch and the insight that came out of her piehole that day. Do I really want to go back to having "normal" relationships with these bitches? No, I don't think so, either. Rehab for an addiction starts with admission to the problem, but when I'm going down, I won't be admitting a goddamned thing. If I indeed do have a "porn addiction", and in fact it's making me have abnormal or immoral relationships, I don't blame pornography. I blame the Internet.

And the only thing I can say in my defense is, at least I've never sucked someone's dick to pay for my addiction.

*Definitions provided courtesy of GlossaryOfPerversion.com.
Alabama Dinner Special - Nail some hot, but slutty, Alabama tramp in her own home. Commence hitting her from behind. Then run her right out the front door and ram her headfirst into the broken stove on her front lawn. Sell tricks for her exposed twat at the price of your choosing.
Machine Gun Kelly - You stick two fingers into a girl's pussy, and one in her ass, then ream her repeatedly. AKA "Shocker"
Winnie the Pooh - When you are banging a broad doggystyle and you shove your fist up her ass...it proceeds to get stuck, just like Winnie the Pooh in the cave.