My mother grosses me out

I can't stand my mother. She is a fat, gross, miserable woman. She wants to have this close relationship with me and can't understand why we aren't close. I would never tell her the real truth but I am so embarrassed by her. She always wants to take me to dinner or do something with me and all I can think about is how gross she will look sitting across from me at a restaurant slopping down her food. She farts in public as she walks and thinks it's funny. She is lazy and would rather live out her life on the couch. She only talks about herself and her aches and pains. She is never interested in anyone (me) or anything they have to say. She is a selfish, overindulgent bitch that wants everything handed to her so life can be easy. She doesn't want to work for anything but wants to be recognized for everything. I hate her and she makes me sick and I always feel so guilty about it.

He can't last forever...

My husband is an insecure, jealous, passive-aggressive control freak with strong OCPD tendencies. He oversees and approves of anything and everything in our home, our lives and our social contacts. If I have a differing opinion of something (such as his placement of a vase of flowers, or the way he has hung a picture on the wall, or his choice of flowering plants for our patio pots), he will become silently infuriated, and be sullen. If I downright disagree with him (", I don't care for those flowers...") he can become openly hostile, petty, vindictive, and will meanly mock and mimic me.

I am made to feel like I'm abandoning my 11 year old daughter if I make arrangements to meet a friend for dinner or see a movie - so most of the time I don't / won't go. When I have gone out in the past, he'll "go after" our daughter, rattling demands to her in a monotone voice, in rapid-fire sequence - demanding she clean her already too-clean-to-be-true bedroom, criticizing her school work, questioning her clothing choices, etc., so that a night out with the girls is just plain not done. Our daughter knows her dad isn't "normal", but she loves him, and she generally tries to keep her disitance from him . If he knows I've tried to make plans, he will make every attempt to sabotage them in a seemingly innocent way ("...I ate something funny at lunch... now I don't feel well... not up to caring for our daughter tonight...." or he will simply not have time to call me and "unexpectedly" work late).

He doesn't care for my few friends, and he has been very successful in keeping me isolated. Moving state-to-state with his company via his promotions hasn't helped, either. Weekends are always spent TOGETHER - if I were to say to him "hey, I'm running out to the mall for an hour or so..." will send him off on a cleaning and organizing frenzy. Either that, or he'll say he needs something, and wants to go, too. He hid all of his weird behaviors very, very well before we were married. He was insistent that we marry a few months after we met, (now I know why...) and I was swept away by him - he gave me thoughtful gifts, lavished me with attention - I was so impressionable, and I swallowed it hook, line and sinker. He gets uncomfortable when men glance at me, and lets me know it ( ...lets get out of here...).

Counseling? Forget it... he has no problems... I'M THE PROBLEM, according to him, because I'm "so particular"!

Leave? I'm disabled, and I need my many medications, which cost over $1,000.00 per month. BTW, his mother is the most domineering, manipulative, controlling, vindictive woman I have ever seen. I met her right after we were married... she offered to slap me across the face because I had a difference of opinion with her!

My only saving grace may be the fact that he is about 75 pounds overweight, his diet consists primarily of red meat, french fries / potato and Diet Coke / whole milk. And a whole lot of cakes, cookies, candy, snacks & crap. Seriously, that is his preferred diet: red meat, potato, sugar & salt. He can't last forever...

How to steal a Chevy

I've already posted stories on how to steal VW's but now I am going to confess about stealing Chevrolet's. This also works for Pontiac's too, and pretty much any other GM car that has a tilt steering lever on the right side of the steering column.

This is a story I can't tell because I'd get arrested so I guess it qualifies for this blog.

First gain access to the Chevy. I used to pop the whole keylock out of the door with a flat head screwdriver. Takes a bit of work, much better to find a chevy with an open door.
Once inside, snap off the tilt steering lever on the side of the steering column. Don't break off the turn signal level, not having them later will be very heaty.

Once you break off the lever, remove some of the surrounding plastic with some pliers or something, you'll expose a saw-looking peice of silver metal. It will have jagged teeth facing up. That is the lever that will start the car.

Pull out everything else in there. You'll have to do some ripping out with the screwdriver. You'll find a black spring inside, that triggers the steering wheel lock.

If you remove enough stuff, the steering will unlock. If not, you'll have to put some effort into it.

The best way to break the steering lock is to turn the wheel until it locks and can't turn anymore. Then put your feet on the wheel and kick as hard as you can. After a few hard kicks, the steering wheel will turn. Now turn the wheel in the other direction and do it again until the steering lock breaks. Now you can drive.

Reach up and move that saw-toothed metal level and the car will start. That is your new key. Once you drive away, quickly find the exact same color and model car, then switch both front and rear license plates. This will buy you a day.

Within the first 36 hours of a car being reported stolen, it goes on the hotsheet. After the third day you can go driving in public, just be careful you don't get in an accident!

Some guy in some city that used to steal people's cars.

A story in progress that I cannot tell

I was going to start a web blog to keep track of this new adventure I am embarking on. After thinking about just how much work would go in to building a web site and maintain it, I realized that there is no way I have the time to do all that.

So I am going to tell my story here. The story I can't really tell anyone. Not a confession, only because I haven't done anything wrong. Yet.

I have been married for nine and a half years and have three children. Our marriage started out fine then gradually got worse when my husband decided to join the Army after what happened on 9/11. My husband was personal friends with three people that died in tower collapses. Needless to say, he was deeply affected by the attacks and felt the need to enlist.

I supported him at first but now realize that he is over in Iraq, fighting a war with people who he has no quarrel with. He is over there risking getting killed, all because Bush wanted more oil control. I could go on, but this is not about my husband, the Army or Bush.
This story is about how I am in the process of having sexual reassignment surgery. I've always thought myself as a man, although marriage and children were something that I had to do at the time.(Religious family, unwanted pregnancy, abortion not an option) I guess you can say that I am a living contradiction.

Before I was married I had often thought about getting a sex change. As a child I was always playing with other boys and never with the girls. Most of my friends were boys, I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I had growing up. I was dressed like a boy as a infant and small child and when I start dressing myself, I found that I felt most confortable in male clothing.

As the years passed I became more and more unhappy with my sexuality. Then I met my husband and for a year I found myself very confused. I ended up getting pregnant and then the marriage happened and then more kids.

Now that he has been gone for such a long time, I have had the time to do some serious soul-searching. While he is off trying to save the world, I am here with our kids trying to save myself.

I realize that I am still a boy trapped in a girls body.

I am researching how I can get the operation done. I am trying to figure out how to get it done before he gets home. I figure he won't be able to talk me out of it. He'll have to either accept the new me, or leave me. I would love it if he could understand but I don't think he will. The kids will be confused but I know they will love their Mother no matter what gender I am. It's what's inside that counts right?

So there it is. I am going to get this operation done. I will post more of my story as it unfolds. I welcome all comments both good and bad.

I'm just a terrible person.

It was about a year ago, a few weeks after freshmen orientation. I was getting drunk, of course, because it was the weekend. I'm sure you know the average dorm party, so I'll cut to the chase. She and I were making out in my room, going at it for a while. fueled by too much alcohol, my I started to roam, squeeze, and do things I really shouldn't have done. She said something about having to go to a soccer game tomorrow, needing to sleep, I fired back with 'just a few more minutes". After, again, squeezing what I shouldn't, things begin to get hazy as I put her necklace back on, she goes out, and I roam the halls for a while.

A student council comes, finds me, and brings me to his room. Having sobered up, I realize what had happened.

"You really scared her, man"

I didn't sleep at all that night. Not one blink. How could I, when my guts were tearing themselves apart from agony and guilt?
I walked around like a zombie the next day, I swear I could hear everyone whispering about what had happened, though the council swore he had kept it confidential. I was working on an assignment that afternoon, trying to get my mind clear, when an RA knocked on my door, telling me I had a meeting with the Life Director later
that day.

"Will I be able to stay?"
"I really can't talk about that."

It was a quick meeting between the three of us. I was miserable,going on about how I couldn't believe I did it, the assistant was staring into space, and the LD was, well, professional about it. He explained what would happen, going through the disciplinary board or something, I really wasn't listening. I knew I'd be kicked out
of the dorms, and that's something I couldn't handle. To have that go through the community at home- that I was kicked out for sexual assault- I just couuldn't let that happen.

So I trie to take the cowards way out. I walked out from the meeting, across the street, and bought an assortment of pills, and a lot of them. I got back to the dorm, and washed them all down with half a fifth of whiskey.

It didn't work, and I woke up as my roomate was coming in the door.

"Man, I feel like Death"

"Joe, get an RA"

the resulting trip to the hospital, the call home, the hallucinations, pumping of my stomach, all was like a dream. I still don't know if I've awaken from it, yet.

My family took me home, where I was completely unsure of what step to take next. I never told them why I trie to commit suicide, but they wern't really shocked by it, as I had tried it once before.
They assumed I was too far from home and couldn't handle it. Maybe that's true.
I'm back in school, now, pursuing an alltogether different education. It was a rare night that I can fall asleep without thinking of what I did, helpless to stem the flood of memories, how I fucked up so badly. I recently wrote an email the the LD, telling him as much, that I felt so guilty, ashamed, and angry at myself.
That it was all my fault, that I was the one who fucked up, not her. The only hope I had for myself, was to work so that I never fall that low again, to prove that I'm better, much better than that.

I just don't know if I can do it. Soon it will be one year ago that it happened, and I still feel the same guilt and hate. I still think about what happpened and it feels like yesterday. I still hate myself for it, and don't feel that I've made up for my bad karma yet. I'd be lying to you if I don't think about killing myself again. Every other week or so, I just get so low that I break down and can't bring myself to do anything, lost in myself.
My family obviously doesn't know the whole story, and I doubt they ever will. Only me, the people involved, and now you, know the whole story. It's the story I cannot tell.

I'm just a terrible person.

Hey guys, it's me..Just some information...

Just wanted to let everyone know that I am still alive and kicking over here. Been dealing with some personal issues that have resulted in me having to spend some time away from this blog...

This last story I posted was in my Hushmail for a while before I posted it. I was having some reservations and as a result I let it sit there for a while. In the future, I shall add a "NSFW" which means "Not Safe For Work"...This way, if you are at a place where adult content cannot be viewed(at work, at home with the kids around, at school, etc), come back later to read the story as the story will contain adult language or situations.

I don't want anyone to get in trouble reading my blog! So if you see NSFW, then use caution!!

Thanks for all the support people. I appreciate it. Please make sure to keep submitting your stories...You've all got at least one, so if you haven't taken the time yet, please send your story in.

Have a great weekend!!


Transexual oral sex fetish (NSFW)

I have this deep fetish for sucking transsexuals cocks.

I have never been attracted to guys but give me a chick with a dick and I love it.
I find transsexual escorts online and then go to them and have them rape me. I like to role play and act surprised they have a cock. Then they force me to suck them off and I love it when they cum in my mouth.

I am a little cumslut.

I found a wallet and didn't return it. Right before Christmas

While on my way out of an auto-parts store I found a wallet on the ground. Instead of returning in, I jumped in my car and drove away. There was about $500 in it, along with the guy's ID and everything.

I was out of money at the time and it was right before Christmas. I took the money then dropped the wallet back in the parking lot of the store. I figured at least I could return the guys wallet and ID and credit cards and stuff. I still feel bad about this and some days I think about driving by the guys house and giving him the money back.
But I don't and I will probably still feel like shit unless I do something about it.

Name kept secret
Location kept secret

I jacked my ex for a two ounces of weed.

...and I was an asshole for doing it.

She called me and asked me if I had a hook-up for a couple of ounces. At the time I didn't but that didn't stp me from talking shit. I told her I could have her stuff later that night no problem. I met up with her and she gave me the money. After looking her right in her eye and lying to her, I left and drove straight to the liquor store where we bought a couple bottles and began drinking. We partied hard that night, I had no hook-up and I didn't have any intention whatsoever of even trying.
She ended up talking to my homie and the story went that I got busted somehow and was sitting in jail. I continued the lie later when I called her. She knew I was full of shit.

We stopped talking. I heard that the guys who asked her to get the dope, went to her place and took all her furniture and stereo and shit.

I was lower than low. Did I mention she was a single mother at the time? I suddenly feel sick. I am going to go vomit.

It's like the discovery channel

We are only a few degrees removed from primates and with myself and my wife, it shows.

We can spend hours picking at ear other. Plucking errant hairs out, popping pimples, squeezing out blackheads. It's hard to say which position is more comfortable. Being the picker or the pickee.
We often laugh and make ape noises when we catch ourselves in the mirror. We look like we should be on the Discovery Channel with the rest of the primates.

Are we sick or just primal. If feels so damn good we don't want to stop.

Besides, it makes us well groomed!

Mr & Mrs Pickering.
Location kept secret