All By Myself

Just recently I made the mistake of telling one of my original loyal fans/readers/slaves aware that I finally had this wonderful blog up and running. He was so overjoyed with rage and jealousy that he made it be known through the comments section of one of my Facts, that he decided to make his own blog, about his own life, in hopes to inspire me to write more! And so he did.

So I mosied my lazy ass over to my friend's blog to see what the Dealy-O was all about, to see what divine inspiration I could draw from his hate filled words. Instead, all I found was shear horror.

At first sight it appeared like this little blog of his was a mere copy-cat of mine: the title, format, even the goddamn ending was like mine! But that was not was what was upsetting me. Matter of fact I thought it was pretty damn funny. No, it was what was written that truly shook me to the core.

My loyal friend who wrote this blog had been playing with himself for most of his childhood.

I had no idea...I had no words to describe the shock I felt. It was almost paralyzing. It was all right there in front of me in black and white, he just flat out admitted it. To make matters worse, his parents made him do it! And in Public!! Can you imagine that?!

The only thing I could was sit there at my computer and just stare at my screen with a blank face, and just try to process this information, but I couldn't. All I could do was just offer some words of comfort in his comments: "I had no idea you played with yourself so much"

Which is what brings us to today's Fact: I too am tainted of the foul act of playing with thyself. I know, I know, it's hard to hear, but it must be heard. The Facts must be told.

Being a rabid child of the untamed wilderness, whose parents both worked tirelessly to provide simple necessities in life like liquid water, it was practically a common daily act to wander out in the woods and...amuse yourself. Sometimes it would only take an hour, other times it would take all day, but regardless it would have to be done, I would have to be amused.

The acts required to get the job done were endless, and sometimes sickening. They could be anything from the sick act of War (a lone child taking out an entire division of terrorists by himself...horrifying), Construction (giant fortresses hanging from the trees, ala Ewoks), or just silly little Reindeer Games (???). You get the hint though, I played, and played, and played with myself CONSTANTLY. Unfortunately it didn't stop there.

Playing with yourself is like a gateway drug; it gets you high, and gets you by, but only for a little while. Eventually you need to take the next step, you need to push it to the next level, and that next level is friends. You see I couldn't stave off the endless hordes of invisible enemies I established in my War game anymore. I couldn't build my Ewok-like Tree Fort palace in the trees with just my two hands. And Reindeer Games are just no fun with just one Reindeer. You need friends to keep these sick goings on going on.

Unfortunately one is just not enough. You need more, and more, and they need more too, and before you know it you have a network of friends that you don't even know! Eventually you end up getting so addicted to them, and having so many of them, that you end up being a faceless drone in a crowd of thousands and unable to accomplish any kind of playing at all. Then before you know it you find yourself in a dark basement, sitting in a corner, covered in cold sweat, getting those strange cravings to play with yourself all over again. Right back where you started.

it's just a viscous cycle that never ends. It's terrifyingly horrible. Fortunately for my friend it looked like he never reached that point of desperation, and promptly just stayed with himself (his parents gave him toys).

So to all of you out there, who had to play by/with yourselves, I say to you this: I understand, I was there, I too am one of you, and that you are not alone.

So it's a Fact: What started out as a fun way for a minion to get me motivated to write better, funnier Facts, ended up being a solemn cry for help, and a way for me to exorcise my own personal "play with myself" demons. And for that I say thank you.

BONUS FACT: To read the horrifying account of what my Friend/Original Fanboy/Underling actually went through as a child, I will have a benefit link to his first hand account up shortly. I would greatly appreciate it if you would all read it and let him know you understand of how much he truly played with himself as a child. Thank you!