All I need these days is access to the internet. For one, and most importantly, it allows me to write. Since my identity is etched in my words, I wouldn't exist if I couldn't publish my thoughts.
Much has changed since my youth. As a boy, little compared to getting my hands on a Playboy and staring at the foldout. Only Greek goddesses could have tits like these.
The internet has banished that beauty forever. I can get to the internet and view every sexual act imaginable. I'm not a frequent visitor, but a brief view of creampies and a 100 mg. of Viagra and I can assure myself a pleasant fuck with a happy ending.
One day I was surfing the net and I encountered the image of a sicario holding a knife against a woman's neck. A caption described the video as a decapitation. As the killer pressed his weapon into the woman's throat, I stopped the footage and accessed YouTube.
Sperm flowing from a woman's pussy excites me, but blood gushing from a person's neck is too much for even a pervert like me. I sought refuge in the soothing serenity of classical music in order to recapture my breath.
During the night my 14-year-old son, who is addicted to the internet, messaged me that he had just seen a mass murderer gunning down scores of Muslims at a mosque. He wrote:
"Be grateful for life. Over 40 dead in New Zealand as of now. A crazy terrorist shooter walked into a mosque and started firing. What a world we live in. Saw the video. Truly disturbed. Be grateful for life. I love you."
He is a beautiful and loving little boy who dreams of being a great football player one day much like I dreamed of being a great baseball player when I was his age, the only significant difference between us is that he has been exposed to the internet his entire life while the internet didn't exist in my childhood.
I thought about suggesting a violin concerto or a piano sonata, but classical music holds no interest for him. Instead I wrote:
"Check out the latest compilation of creampies. They will clear those terrible images from your head."
I saw him a few nights later for dinner. Growing up in a devout Catholic family, we never even mentioned the word sex. The internet has changed everything.
"Did you take my advice?"
"Sure did, Dad."
"Did it help?"
"It did. Thanks."
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