A Missed conFession

Our show has ended. And as we look over e-mails, photos, friend requests, comments, we realized that we have missed a conFession that was submitted to us. We feel deeply sorry to this individual that dedicated time to submit us a conFession. In order to make up for it, we decided to post the conFession on our blog.

We haven't asked the author if this was o.k. But we wish that we could have done more to persent this conFession to the masses. They have decided to remain nameless.

Once again, we are deeply sorry.

They made a beautifully tragic couple. He was a scrawny, whipped spit-fuck shell of man. She was a holier-than-thou , God fearing masochist who dated pagans for fun.

The man shell had never dated before, so he was glad that the God-fearing masochist was willing to submit to his company. The God-fearing masochist had dated before, but not for several weeks. She was glad to make herself whole again, to fill herself with righteous, cardboard feelings of self-assurance. She was needed, and she needed to be needed. He was afraid. The world’s most beautiful pair of idiots. So innocent. So pure.

The couple would sit down to bi-weekly arguments. God would tell the God-fearing masochist to break away from the man shell, the pale little fucker who was too scared and weak to lift his own pride out of the gutter. And then there was the sex that followed, but sex is a strong word.

They would dry-hump in her room. Clothes had to stay on. God created humans in his image. And God has very low self-esteem. The only orgasms were accidental ones that resulted from repeated, chafe-inducing rubbing on one’s genitals on the inside of one’s undergarments. Sex is the wrong word. A more accurate term would be “jock itch.”

They both wanted more, but God and Santa Claus were watching.

But then one night came the laying on of hands. The God-fearing masochist couldn’t contain herself anymore. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down, but not far enough for God to see her bush while he watched through the ceiling. After all, that would make God uncomfortable. And God apparently smites those who make him uncomfortable. See: Sodom. See also: Gomorrah. See also: homosexuals.

The man shell looked at this exposed woman, a women who had always been a God-fearing masochist. In an instant, she was as depraved as he. She wanted more than dry humping and the self-resentment that followed every painful, chafing humping. She placed the man shell’s pathetic, trembling hand on her clitoris.

In the heat of the moment, this scrawny, pale spit fuck of a man reacts as though he’s been given the keys to the carnal Vatican. He pushes inside her with his finger, and she instantly regrets everything. A knock comes as the door from God-knows-who and the disappointing hand job ceases after less than 10 seconds. The God-fearing masochist insists that God knocked on the door to halt the egregious, contractual transgression that had occurred. The dumbass man shell was then smitten by the God-fearing masochist, the greatest of his agents.

Then the man shell, this horrible, tiny, pitiful shit-for-brains douche bag lets the God-fearing masochist explain how it’s all his fault. It was practically rape and get the hell out and don’t come back for several days until I decide I want to anger God again.

He cries. his tears are hot, salty snakes sliding down the sides of his face. He hates himself, goes home, shave s his face to alter his appearance – to change the awful person who the God-fearing masochist declares him to be. Two weeks later. It all happens again. The world’s most beautiful pair of idiots. So innocent. So pure.