This category is for ALL things political. They say the only two things you never discuss around the dinner table are "religion" and "politics." That's good advise, but this isn't the dinner table! This is a designated SAFE place. Confess all your political options to the World right here. Don't worry, we'll most likely debate you back, but debate is good for the flow ideas now isn't it? Here's a hint! ..Don't be racist, misogynistic, homophobic (or whatever else the new offensive word of the day is today) and you won't have your confession removed.

Confessions Of A Toxic Male

In my day, the high school game to play, was popping virgin cherries. Starting with girls in the 8th grade, we went through then like Genghis Khan and his hordes across eastern Europe. The girl's status depended on which member of the horde popped her cherry. A girl's job was to give herself to a high ranking male, before a drone worker bee got to her. On the guy side seniors outranked juniors, football outranked choir. The girls knew the pecking order and that's how they made themselves available.

Of course college turned everything on its head, from big man on campus to low ranking freshman over a very short summer. Back to scr****g the bottom of the barrel, popping the cherry of Church going Mary.

The working world happened and women were clamoring to do men's jobs. Lawyers, Accountants, HR. We never saw them in the yard wanting to be metal fabricators or welders. Stuck up is what we called them, got them drunk or high on weed, fucked them and left them. No man wanted a bitch calling him out about the dishes.

What we saw as we got older, the snotty high brows stayed single, Beth and June got married, popped out kids, washed dishes and changed diapers, looked down upon by the snotty ivory tower lonelies. From time to time one of them fell, into the hands of engineers and managers who were executive material, bitching about sharing household responsibilities while their husbands were crawling in and out of bed with real women.

In my fifties, I was heading up production, I had to tell this bitch she wasn't management material. The last thing we needed was a book learned college educated wonder, with her statistical models and holier than thou attitude. What came to mind was my old man's saying, as worthless as tits on a bore hog.

I'm retired now, do a lot of management training. Young kids with ideas, no common sense or practical upbringing, they're as useless as tits on a bore hog, as useless as the illiterate kids who can't read or write. They gravitate to form, but don't have substance, in our industry we need doers, not social warriors. A degree in social accountability is as worthless as a degree in comparative religions. We need welders and mechanics, structural engineers and production managers, tax planners and bookkeepers.

And when some good old buy breaks her over the back of her sofa, wipe her ass and get back to work and stay out of HR.

Said my piece, those that don't listen are deaf and dumb. If you can't make money for the company your not going to make it.

  • Turnabout Is Fair Play

    As an officer in my company I found myself in a compromising situation. I woke up in bed with a woman I had met the night before in the hotel bar. She strangely told me that she wasn't in sales, she was a secretary in our primary competitor's head offices. If that wasn't enough, a couple of pictures surfaced on my wife's computer of me in a compromising sexual situation.

    Losing my job and my wife over a set up, I decided to get even. It took more than three years to have the opportunity. I paid a travesti to get some sexually compromising pictures of the CEO who set me up. Planned and executed, pictures surfaced on the competitor's intranet. Fair's fair.

    I resurfaced overseas, and did well enough, married a lady from Malaysia. He found a best friend with the bottle.

    Fucking The Officer’s Girlfriend

    My ex girlfriend is currently dating a police offer even though we both used to agree that we hate the boys in blue. I purposefully have been trying to manipulate here into sex with me again and have been cumming inside here while she wears his hat, in his home. It’s been glorious

  • Ethics Can Get In The Way Of A Beautiful Evening

    I'm a retired IRS agent with a practice helping people with difficult IRS issues. A young woman came to me, referred to me from her employer, because she had a difficult income reporting problem, that had nothing to do with her employer. Non US Source income prior to becoming a US resident taxpayer, passive income in her native country (interest and rents) after she became a US taxpayer that had not been reported. Both issues required different reporting requirements and have different taxable attributes. As neither of these were associated with her employer, they would not pay the fees.

    The girl had no ready cash, only her rent money, I had no desire to help on a pro bono basis (gratis). So how to resolve the problem? She offered first, before I even got close to asking. If I helped her with her returns she would provide me with sexual favors (in day to day talk she said I could have sex with her). For her it wasn't any different than when she went out with men for money.

    Wait a minute, she does what? goes out with men for money, gets paid? Under the table, unreported income? That's all taxable income and she has to report it and pay taxes on it. Prostitution earnings are not exempt income. Every tax preparer know that. I had to tell her that I couldn't help her, if she had prostitution earnings and wasn't reporting them, then I would be in a pickle. Better to drop her like a hot potato, who know what other tax issues she had and didn't report them, and didn't fess up to them.

    Yeah, on the free sex, technically I would have had to report that as payment in kind and give her a 1099 if it was more than 600 bucks worth. Just following the spirit of the law, all income is taxed, from whatever source derived. Isn't Uncle Sam a beneficial soul.

    Chair Person

    My husband pushed me into running for local office. I won. I ended up out most nights involved in so many things and the first year I was chairperson, I had an affair with a guy on the committee. My husband found out and made us use a shared email and facebook so I couldn't cheat again because he has the phone account. It's a weird thing, I sometimes just need to get fucked by someone, it's nothing to do with my husband it's just a need I don't really understand. I've fucked men in their cars just to get off, Not many, only three but it was such a relief each time.

  • I Had To Trick A Doctor In To Giving Me A Vasectomy

    This happened in '86 in a rural area of the midwestern U.S. I was 22 years old and knew beyond any doubt that I never wanted to be a father. I was certain of that long before I knew exactly how a man became a father. I loved my niece and nephew, but I didn't want kids myself.

    I had a fuck buddy at the time. I hate to admit it, but when she miscarried I was relieved. Sorry for her, but relieved for myself. I knew there were only two ways to be sure I'd remain child free. Abstain or get a preemptive vasectomy. Abstinence at that age wasn't a realistic option.

    My primary didn't perform vasectomies, so he sent me to a doctor in a town a few miles away. That doctor said, "Sorry, can't do it.You could change your mind."

    I said, "What?"

    He told me I was too young to know what I wanted, and kindly ushered me out the door. I asked if he'd recommend someone who could do it. He sneered and said, "No doctor is going to give a kid your age a vas."

    I went to another doctor and heard basically the same thing. I couldn't believe it. I could drink, vote, join the army, serve on a jury, but evidently my reproductive future was best left for others to decide. I wanted to be honest, but I figured it they were going to treat me like a child, then I'd lie like one.

    I made an appointment with another doctor about 40 miles away. This time I wasn't taking any chances. I made sure I had a couple pictures of my neice and nephew, who were toddlers, in my wallet. They looked like their mother who was my sister. Since I looked like my sister, they could pass as mine.

    When the doctor asked if I had kids, I sighed a little and said, "Sure do, Doc." Then I spun a yarn about how my two kids have different mothers, how the mothers took off, how I don't get to see the kids much, how one of the mothers is on welfare because I can't pay enough child support, and so on. I took out the pics and showed him, saying, "They're cute aren't they, Doc?" He agreed. Then I told him I got another local girl pregnant and she was due in a couple months. By the time I was done, that doctor was glad to give me a vasectomy.

    That was 36 years ago, and I'm even more certain now I made the right decision. For the most part I've had the life I wanted, and I'd make exactly the same choice again.
    I'm assuming things are completely different today. With what's been going on politically lately, I'm not sure. I'd hate to think of a young man or woman in 2022 being patronized like I was.

    I Didn't Get 'the Job'

    I interviewed for a position in Mega Corp reporting to the 1st Corp Secretary to Mr. X. My military background and training, and clearance were the reason I had the interview. I turned 30, and was full of self assurance. I was being interviewed. Me. Because of who I was. A position into the inner circle, at the very heart of Mega Corp.

    My last shot was with Mr. X himself. I waited, I sweated, I wanted the job. My MBA, my short but impressive military stint, I was a shoe in for the job. Mr. X was older than I thought, or maybe he looked older. Tougher than nails came to mind. Sharp, smart, in every sense all there. He asked some pointed questions. Business, all business. Then,

    He asked me to stand. At attention, he was ex military himself. Head high, chest out. He made his decision known. I wasn't what he was looking for. I wasn't getting the job.

    The thankyous for your time, better luck next time, rest assured it's not you, it's a selection of the very best, you aren't the very best. Go home, what next?

    In time I learned who got the job. 27, patrician beautiful, daughter of a 'family' with a name. Yes she went to Stanford, she was on the fencing team. Smart I was told. So what did she have? Why was she 'the best'?

    Why torture yourself? Who cares? Move on. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and rumor has it, a beautiful pussy. And you, my friend laughed. Your spoon was plastic, your pussy ordinary. Nothing special.

    It is all about the pussy, I know that now. Mr. X has exemplary taste in pussy. So she, a quiet 27, no military background, no MBA, but the story goes, she has 'the' pussy and 'you don't'.
    Born with it, born to it. Mr. X wants the best.

    What! Racists NO!!!

    I come to realize that people like to associate with people they look like. Because I’ve experienced it and it has have been proven in front of my face.
    I get passed as a white supremacist racist, people don’t know me and they judge.. I’ve been verbally attacked for no reason just waking in front of a person and I was called a racist.
    The issue is I’m not white. I’m light skinned, brow-green eyes, bald shaved head due to balding, I have been told I look very “Arian” which I don’t know what that means. But I’m actually Mexican of mixed heritage, Native American and European. I’m the USA where race is an issue, and I’m a white person regardless of what I say or my dna results say because I look white. I’m not a racist at all, I respect all people and in fact didn’t even notice there was racist in the world until I became an adult. I do remember always getting in trouble and being put in my place and disciplined by my white teachers in middle school for acting and wanting to hang out with the Mexicans, but I wasn’t acting… Now as an adult my boss who is like my brother is European and white who immigrated to the USA and the people who seem to want to make friends with me, seem to be the exact same person, blond blue eyes, I can say anything and they’re like yea… and the conversation moves on, just an opinion right. I speak Spanish and I freak Hispanics out, they don’t expect it. I don’t get it. I know I’m very Americanized and more American than Mexican but I’ve seen Mexicans who are blond blue eyes and they don’t seem have a problem. I have felt racism and discrimination not because I’m mexican but because in white. There is racism in all ethnicities and people tent to gravitate to people they look like it doesn’t matter where they come from. That’s the Reality, kind of makes me sad that we have this bs happening in 2022.

    Remembering My Summer Internship

    Spending the summer as an intern exposed me to the big city, office politics and office after hours sexual get encounters. I got hit on by old men and young women. It's like if you don't put out you're not worthy of being a part of the culture. I did give in, I can't take pestering plus she was really nice and sexy. I did not give in to the old man who was hitting on every woman.

    My summer love affair didn't last beyond graduation. She met a guy and I met another one. But for that summer it was fun being a lesbian.

  • My Mother Will Disown Me

    I'm a white guy in love with a black woman. For over a year, we've been seeing each other secretly, partly because my mother is a racist. That isn't a slur, it's a fact. If you ask her, she'll say, "I believe the races should always stay with their own kind. If that makes me racist, I'm racist." She tries to give all kinds of reasons, but ultimately her final defense is, "It's the way we were raised." She's proud of it (my deceased father held the same beliefs, but he was much more discreet about it).

    The thing is, my fiancee, who is back at home helping her mother take care of her father, has basically the same problem. Her father doesn't believe the races should mix either. But her father is in the final stages of COPD and is expected to pass at any time. Her mother doesn't share those beliefs. She's met me and she likes me, and she's even helped in ways that let my fiancee and me spend time together so her husband doesn't find out.

    When my fiancee's father dies, I'll be the only obstacle to our relationship. I don't know why I don't have the courage to tell my mother. I'm a grown man with a good job who lives alone and I'm not dependent on her in any way. I love my fiancee and we're planning to get married and intend to have children. For both of us, nothing has ever felt so right.

    I was the only child, always the apple of my mother's eye. Except for the racism which rarely came up, she was a loving, attentive mother. But I've got to get up the courage to tell her. I know she'll disown me, but I also know I would regret it forever if I don't do what I know is right for me.