I have a deep, dark secret. Outing myself isn’t easy but I feel like it’s time to come clean.
My dog’s ears perk up before I hear the footsteps. The keys jangle in the door and I know that D is home. I’m on the couch and furiously fumble for the remote (wii controller) to avoid being caught red-handed in my shameful act. The screen goes black as he walks in and I casually say “hey love”. He must never know what I’ve been up to. Hugs are exchanged as I shy away from his grease-infused chef’s beard. Lucy the dog doesn’t share my aversion and goes all in for her favorite part of the day; the beard licking. I’m thankful for the distraction as it allows me a little more time to cover my tracks.
What am I so ashamed of? Midget porn? Let’s be PC folks; it’s called Little People Porn. That’s not it though. My shame bats hang in a far more innocent cave. Don’t get me wrong, little people are entitled to have their fun too. If they want to let their itty-bitties hang out for all the world to see, that’s their right. It’s just not my thing.
What the hell am I so ashamed of then? Apparently, Netflix knows me better than I know myself and rubs it in my face through it’s recommended videos. According to Netflix, I’m a tween. I want to tell Netflix it’s wrong to it’s face, but the evidence is overwhelming. I’m busted.
Sure, there are thought- provoking documentaries in my recently watched list, but when push comes to shove and, click comes to play, I guess I am a freakin’ tween.
Maybe I don’t want my thoughts to be provoked. Maybe I get enough of that in my news feed. Journalists are being beheaded, Ebola is in The States, and teen-aged girls are stabbing their friend to death because they “don’t like her”.
Sometimes, this Alice needs a rabbit hole.
If the bottom of that rabbit hole includes movies like Hook, Honey I Shrunk The Kids and Beethoven-so be it. At least I’m not watching The Real House Skanks of Anywhere, USA or Keeping Up With The Vapid (with a K). My name is Kimberley and I watch kid movies. Sometimes, my habit is so bad that I resort to watching made for t.v. ABC Family movies or (shudder) Disney movies. The plots are thin, the syrupy-sweetness is toothache inducing, and the acting is atrocious. I’m keenly aware of all of this but get sucked in all the same.
When I get busted, D just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I get it, but I think he should be relieved by the fact that he’s only walked in on this, and not a hardcore midge porn viewing session.
Truth be told, it’s not always so innocent. I go on Craigslist everyday looking for stuff to resell. If nothing’s happening, I sometimes drift over to the personal ads. It’s sick but these sickos help me validate my life in a sick way. At the end of the day, I can proudly say that I’m not the girl who wishes to be a “human ashtray”.
The ad below is real. Who could make this stuff up?
Smoking Fetish – m4w (Raleigh)