On Mon, 05 Sep 2011 18:02:46 -0400, Brooklyn1 wrote:

> The first time I saw my father was when the war
> ended, I was nearly five years old, he scared the shit out of me, I
> never did get used to him. I really don't like men. I like breasts.
> Breasts are soft, warm, comforting, and smell like yeasty bread dough
> rising... men are hard, cold, calculating, and smell like dirty
> terlits. I hate beards, I could never trust any man with a beard that
> hides their facial expression. I like smooth bare naked female
> flesh... all those women didn't think thay should wear clothing in
> front of a four year old boy, they never gave a thought to being naked
> when they bathed me... hot bath water was dear then, they put me in
> the bath with them. They'd put me into bed with them at night to read
> me stories from little golden books to get me to sleep, was no TV
> then... and winter was cold, wasn't much money to feed the boiler coal
> either, it was much warmer cuddled between breast flesh. At four
> years old I knew more about what women did when they thought no one
> was watching than few men will ever know. Now yoose know.

what a charming combination of pathology and horseshit.

blake