When an abuser's pattern of self-abuse becomes abusive to themselves and everyone else around them, at that point, intervention is called for; and is absolutely mandatory. The cycle of destruction becomes LOCKED IN; with NO WAY OUT; and unsurprisingly... those in a position of Command Authority are de-incentivized to stop exploiting a steady and mostly reliable earning source of off-book income -or- to bother considering defending the civil rights of one, lone hung angry man.”

I don't know how to put this delicately: STAND THE FUCK DOWN. Do you need to make some phone calls? Do you need to talk to your people? Then: FUCKING DO IT.

DO īT.


J E R I C H O .


I cannot force anyone to do anything; but I can be the reason that a person chooses for themselves to turn their life around for the better.

BEND THE KNEE.

SURRENDER TO GOD. Adieu.

-CPM

Azz,

Are you absolutely certain this isn't a fucking meth psychosis?



I am Nautical Shore.

-CPM

Maybe if you weren’t such a sociopath you wouldn’t be so lonely.

It's irony; I'm not lonely at all. I'm simply not getting sex. So what? I've *never* gotten lots of sex. IDGAF. You simply think I'm a sexual obsessive in denial... because I made it very easy for anyone to make that assumption. After all, that's the stereotype. That's the playbook.

You had your chance to be close to me.

That's where you're wrong, kiddo. I've never had that opportunity, and there was no “chance” involved. The only way to win a rigged game is to not play.

Additionally, you constantly copy me and your entire life orbits around me, whereas I'm not really entirely sure who you are, and while the company is nice, it's not like you're keeping me alive for any reason other than to harvest my heartsblood. It's not like you want to make money together, you want me to make money so you can steal it and then kill me. Oh boy. /swoon

Get it together, basket case worker: admitting that one has a problem is only the first step. I have no clue who you are, so I don't know how I represent a problem to you... unless you're expecting me to be your goyim slave. Shiksa-tits: .•Ī•.•åīVī•.•∆•.§ôûr€πœr.

If you can't figure out how to monetize that, what the hell do I need you for? What exactly do you bring to the table besides a login password for podbean? Serious question. In what way are you crucial to my success?

This should be something that's obvious to me. Instead. I thought you were dead, or I don't even know who you are. And I never did. Also, your husband is a faggot. Or do you call him a beard? I retract the question. I literally don't give a shit.

I got over all this years ago. The notion that it's still hanging out there like an ingrown toenail still fills me with a sad bemusement. And I'm sure it's never occurred to you to... well never mind. Go find a qualified mental health care provider that you don't have to lie to and deal with it with yourself. Like, I get no game from this.


p.s.·. I don't like being lied to. You don't like to tell the truth. We are not the same.

p.p.s.·. I lied. We're identical. Oh but wait. I have no idea who you are. *sad trombone plays* Bored now. FIGURE SHIT OUT, BRAINIAC.

p.p.p.s.·. Oh, you're right. This is much better than a fucking conversation would have been. Shit. What was I thinking? That you might want to know something that you don't fucking know, but that's okay. I'm sure your version of reality worked well for you. Now: it's been glassed. Tough shit. I suppose you thought I had something to be afraid of being revealed but no. I simply didn't want to let anybody know how disgusted I was, and still am with absolutely everybody. Clearly that's no longer a concern for me.

p.p.p.p.s.·. And while opinions may vary, I still believe being alive and embarrassed is significantly better than being dead. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ Also your insipid gang of thuggy little pimphandlers make me want to puke. Ugh, just ugh. Well, ewe do ewe.

p.p.p.p.p.s.·. What? What do you expect me to do? Shave? Spare. Adieu.



BONUS QUERY: since it's the Ask Azzeræ Anything thread, let's not leave her out; “are you going to fruitlessly wank around all day, or are you going to spooge out some intel?” is it none of my business? Do I not get to know? Should I have known better? Did I make things awkward for everyone trying to steal everything I owned? Do I not have civil rights? Am I your owned property?

I suppose these aren't fair questions, since obviously you're not going to tell me the truth in public. We can just leave it a mystery if you like. Now if you excuse me, I have to go not smoke some meth.

I'm perfectly aware of how wasteful that is and that it doesn't even work that way. I was pretty much waiting for someone to tell me that, and gently explain to me why that was the case, but apparently no one thought I needed to be informed of anything, well, that's where you're wrong. You could have been polite about it.

But I guess since you've all been doing it since you were fucking 12 and then lying about it, you don't really know how to be polite to somebody about such an important subject. It certainly is important. And perfect for all of you but terrible for me, is that it? lol.

I have the tolerance of a mayfly. It lasts 4 days. I'll probably not be abusing it. And if you think I am, mind your own fucking business. What are you, fucking in charge of things? Not so much anymore.


Because you all could have just told me the truth. You still can.

But you didn't. tsk tsk. L8R GATERZ

j⁵⅝∞⁷

Sow lonely. Sow, so lonely. a-bloo-bloo-bloo-boo-hoo boo-hoo-hoo

Maybe if you weren’t such a sociopath you wouldn’t be so lonely. You had your chance to be close to me.