It’s Called Facebook. Not Fuckbook.

What I Do When The Creepers Just Won’t Stop Creeping.

It seems the Coronavirus isn’t the only epidemic to have swept across this country in recent years. If my messenger account is any indication, there’s some disease going around that prompts strange men to send me pictures of their gross, predominantly flaccid penises as well.

I’m afraid there may not be a cure, either.

I have a beautiful vagina. I mean, I Do. As far as they go, mine is a ten. All-day long. However, even with this platinum vajajay at my command, oddly enough, I’ve never felt some strange, undeniable urge to snap some badly lit shots of the old girl and send it out en masse, like it’s a freaking Christmas Card or something. Call me crazy.

I’ve never, in a fit of self-loathing, or unfulfilled mental masturbation thought that the answer to my inability to get laid was to load inboxes with unsolicited pussy pics.

Since it’s a weird phenomenon to me, I polled all the females I know, and unbelievable though it may be, none of them have done it, either.

So what conclusion do I draw from this strange anomaly?

Well, my feeling is that men who send out dick pics are either impotent, really, really hate themselves, or they are just ridiculously blind to what’s acceptable and what’s not in normal interactions between members of the opposite sex.

It might be different if I was getting pics from someone like Channing Tatum, or Adrien Brody, (they can send me body parts in the mail if they want to, far as I’m concerned) But unfortunately, it’s coming from men that are nowhere near what I would consider..well, that I would consider, period.

On top of that, I have seen some of the most jacked-up, malformed penises imaginable. The last one I got looked like my dog’s junk used to look after a nice session with his favorite stuffed animal.

I’ve got one guy that likes to send me pictures of the sunrise, or the ocean, or some other pretty thing, and smack dab in the middle of them, what do I see?! Boom. A picture of his penis... Followed by a glorious sunrise.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Then there are the ones that think that I should be grateful because they jumped on my page, a complete and utter stranger, and that I should be flattered that they stalked my shit.

Unbeknownst to me, once they do this, I become obligated to chat with them. When the message, I am supposed to stop whatever frivolous thing I might be doing, simply to follow along with their mundane, unwelcome advances, and if I don’t, then I’m just a stupid fucking cunt, and they’re going to punch me in the face the next time they see me. But I mean, that’s reasonable, right?

I have to joke about it at least a little. It’s the only way I can cope.

One thing I’ve done to discourage these things from sending me unwelcome pics

of what appears to be toddlers' privates is to repost them on my newsfeed with the Daddy’s name of who they belong to. Putting them on blast for their lack of any kind of couth, or social graces is a small pleasure I can take out of this.

I don’t know what type of women are raising these things that call themselves men, but I have an idea. It’s a different breed than what raised me, I am sure.

I have two boys, men now. One is 28, the other 24. They haven’t always chosen the best partners in their search for love, sex, and self, but I can assure you that there are some things my kids will never, ever do.

They will never hit a woman, or treat her as merchandise, something that can be discounted.

They will never call a woman a cunt, or act like they are entitled to whatever they want in return for the pleasure of sharing their company.

My children will never call their partners bitch, or degrade them in front of anyone.

And as sure as I am of the shape of the nose on my face or the color of my eyes, I can tell you, unequivocally, that my children will not be sending out any pictures of their genitals, unsolicited or otherwise.

They have more respect for themselves and women.

They were raised by one.