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Jerome is God’s Name

</grain of salt>

The following story may be completely fictional. Grab yourself a cup of tea, coffee, a nice large water, a snack, and prepare for the blitz of me telling my story as quickly as possible because I think a psycho murderer is on his way to my door step to kill me.

I could be wrong, too. It could be a ploy to try to make me write all weekend. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

I’m ready for anything to happen right now. I’m ready for this cute guy from the deli to show up and murder me, I’m ready for this douche bag from England to come find me to profess his love to me while he has a wife back home, I’m ready for a narcissistic rapist asshole to come beg me for forgiveness, to try to woo me back into his vain arms and convince me he’s the guy for me.

All of these suck. Why can’t anything good happen to me? Why can’t someone just tell me I win the lottery I don’t play and shower me in money so I can fix up this shitty building I’ve come to reside in and call home? (Sorry, Moto Man. I love you!)

Maybe I’ll end up going to a bar against my will and find myself raped because something inside me wants to believe that all men are rapist pigs that can’t help themselves. Then I remember I’ve only been raped by people I’ve dated and my family, so… It can’t be all of them. (I’m sorry, dudes, I’m not trying to neg you, I swear.)

It’s not even like they know they’re doing it. Let me reiterate what rape consists of in terms that we can all identify and understand:

  • Fucking someone with their consent but daydreaming it’s someone else.
  • Fucking someone without their consent.
  • Fucking someone in your mind, especially when you’ve never seen them naked before.
  • Fucking anyone but your significant other.
  • Fucking multiple partners at once.
  • Fantasizing without asking them for consent to fantasize.
  • Having sex with or by yourself despite having a partner beside you.
  • Caring only about your own release instead of the union.
  • Having sex with an animal. Animals are driven by instinct. They do NOT consent.
  • Going too fast for the other partner.
  • Forcing the other partner into a specific sex act, especially by coercion (such as withholding intercourse without it.) This includes persuasion to obtain sex, you imbeciles.
  • Having sex with yourself without listening to your body’s desires.
  • Continuing to have sex after a topic emerges mentally that makes you want to stop.
  • Having sex while fixating on external stimuli of any sort.


Narcissists are rapists by default. Their insensitivity and carelessness mean they do not give a shit about you, your thoughts, your feelings, or your emotions. If you dissociate during sex, you are being raped. If your mind is on the chores while you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself, you are being raped. If you are thinking about the test you flunked yesterday, you are raping either yourself or your partner. If you are stressing, worrying, or upset about anything, you should not be having sex.

Just stop. No matter how good it is. Your partner should care about how you feel more than getting off, and if they don’t, they’re raping you. Do you want to be raped for the rest of your life or do you want to be valued? You are a worthy soul, don’t let someone else tell you that you lack value by letting them rape you.

If you even think you should stop and you don’t, you’re a rapist. If you just want to stop and you don’t, you’re a rapist. Whether or not you’re raping yourself or someone else is irrelevant. Just stop. Talk about what’s going on. Nine times out of ten, the sexy action will resume after you talk it out and if it doesn’t, it’s because neither of you was interested in the first place. It’ll be better after you talk. So much better. It’ll be exactly what you daydream about, with your partner lost in the throes of passion in your arms, feeling the best feels they can feel as they unite with you spiritually. That is what satisfies you, not getting off. (Getting off is RAPE!!!!!)

We have ignored our spirits for too long.

We have been consuming life like we consume Cheetos, throwing the bag away once we take what we want. It’s wrong. We should savor every single Cheeto, then recycle the damn bag so it can house some other food stuff in the future and have a new life. And we should know Cheetos are a treat. They are not an everyday occurrence. If they become an everyday occurrence, our waistlines will expand and the lack of proper nutrition will make us all cranky bitches. Besides, are you certain you can tolerate dairy? You consume it, but are you certain?

P.S. Psychologists who suggest sex for stress relief:


P.P.S. Have you ever wondered about the molecular structure of a Cheeto?

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