Actually I didn’t but what happened to me counts as sexual abuse in the Victim Marathon everyone is running these days, so I might as well discuss it. I’m mainly doing this to show you how retarded a lot of this “I got abused hurr durr!” crap you hear from every other woman nowadays is. Next time a woman tells you that, sit her down and ask her exactly what happened. Half the time it will be nothing. But she will insist that she’s just all fucked up from this completely unimportant event or events.
Ok, here’s what happened.
One day when I was around 10-12, some weird old asshole leered at me in the bathroom on the fishing barge and asked,
“Hey kid, how big is your goober.”
He could have stepped out of a movie. He had the classic sicko pedo deranged grin. Aqualung.
This was back before everyone decided to become complete faggots and turn into professional victims for the rest of our lives. We kids didn’t go around thinking, “Oh noes! I just got harmed! I just got molested! I just got abused! Now I’m fucked up for eternity!”
That’s all a modern innovation and I think it shows how the notion that civilization always moves forwards is a lie. Because we were way more adaptive back then.
So, sure, I was a bit frightened, but I’m good at ignoring people. I just figured he was some weird asshole, maybe a pedo, but who the Hell knows, and who cares anyway? Some weird asshole freak made a weird comment to me. Ok, that’s funny and a bit disturbing, but back then, that wouldn’t lead to retreat to safe spaces, triggering, therapy for decades, “trauma”, and all the rest of the modern idiocy and indulgence.
We would just laugh at him and say what a freak he was. The world is full of freaks and disturbing weirdos, right? You might meet one one day, right? So, if this happens? It’s a normal thing, right? There’s no need to panic and turn into Perpetual Victim over it.