My Squad

My Squad

OK, this is my squad... or, to be more precise, the kind of squad that I'd like to have at my command.

I know, I know, it is not going to happen, ever.

And it is demeaning for women (why? no, really, why??? And I mean, exactly, WHY?) that I even go around pushing this kind of drawing.

OK; now, let's see... how many of you guys, would say no t having this kind of squad in you service?

Come one... your lady is not really looking, and there are plenty of other reasons you'd be worried, if she find this site in your browser history, like... you didn't tell her that you liked my kind of stuff, did you?

No, eh? She'd cut your balls off, on the durface value of the site itself, just because.

Just because you consigned her your balls to chop every fucking time she is displeased, you FUCKING DAMN MORON!

Nobody really forced you to do so - nobody forced you to marry/get engaged/room-sharing-with-benefits with a woman like that.

You did it... you were scared of being alone, scared of growing old and miserable, or you were really in love with her.

This doesn't change the fact that you have handed down your balls to her, and now you can't even admit that you'd like to have some four barely legal girls catering to your whims, even if every scientific plausible fact available points in the direction that your brain was built only to enjoy crave that.

All the rest, monogamy and the whole enormous shitload of CRAP that we call society, is there to keep you in line, so you can PAY THE BILLS OF YOUR MASTERS while they use YOUR MONEY to  FUCK THE GIRLS THAT YOU CANNOT EVEN TOUCH.

Oh, of course, not all your money, it's true... most of it goes to PAY THE BILLS of the WARDENS that keep you IMPRISONED IN YOUR SHITTY PLACE.

Yeah, tell me that I am wrong, that I oversimplify things and that the world does not really work like that.

You know, it would be more believable, if you could say it without crying..