Movie True Story of a Woman in Jail: Sex Hell Torrents eng sub Streaming Online gostream

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And by stepping in I mean I'm reposting last weeks winner, credit to u/TheCoderAndAvatar I am about to post the 3000 most common words in the English lexicon. Wish me luck. a abandon ability able abortion about above abroad absence absolute absolutely absorb abuse academic accept access accident accompany accomplish according account accurate accuse achieve achievement acid acknowledge acquire across act action active activist activity actor actress actual actually ad adapt add addition additional address adequate adjust adjustment administration administrator admire admission admit adolescent adopt adult advance advanced advantage adventure advertising advice advise adviser advocate affair affect afford afraid African African-American after afternoon again against age agency agenda agent aggressive ago agree agreement agricultural ah ahead aid aide AIDS aim air aircraft airline airport album alcohol alive all alliance allow ally almost alone along already also alter alternative although always AM amazing American among amount analysis analyst analyze ancient and anger angle angry animal anniversary announce annual another answer anticipate anxiety any anybody anymore anyone anything anyway anywhere apart apartment apparent apparently appeal appear appearance apple application apply appoint appointment appreciate approach appropriate approval approve approximately Arab architect area argue argument arise arm armed army around arrange arrangement arrest arrival arrive art article artist artistic as Asian aside ask asleep aspect assault assert assess assessment asset assign assignment assist assistance assistant associate association assume assumption assure at athlete athletic atmosphere attach attack attempt attend attention attitude attorney attract attractive attribute audience author authority auto available average avoid award aware awareness away awful baby back background bad badly bag bake balance ball ban band bank bar barely barrel barrier base baseball basic basically basis basket basketball bathroom battery battle be beach bean bear beat beautiful beauty because become bed bedroom beer before begin beginning behavior behind being belief believe bell belong below belt bench bend beneath benefit beside besides best bet better between beyond Bible big bike bill billion bind biological bird birth birthday bit bite black blade blame blanket blind block blood blow blue board boat body bomb bombing bond bone book boom boot border born borrow boss both bother bottle bottom boundary bowl box boy boyfriend brain branch brand bread break breakfast breast breath breathe brick bridge brief briefly bright brilliant bring British broad broken brother brown brush buck budget build building bullet bunch burden burn bury bus business busy but butter button buy buyer by cabin cabinet cable cake calculate call camera camp campaign campus can Canadian cancer candidate cap capability capable capacity capital captain capture car carbon card care career careful carefully carrier carry case cash cast cat catch category Catholic cause ceiling celebrate celebration celebrity cell center central century CEO ceremony certain certainly chain chair chairman challenge chamber champion championship chance change changing channel chapter character characteristic characterize charge charity chart chase cheap check cheek cheese chef chemical chest chicken chief child childhood Chinese chip chocolate choice cholesterol choose Christian Christmas church cigarette circle circumstance cite citizen city civil civilian claim class classic classroom clean clear clearly client climate climb clinic clinical clock close closely closer clothes clothing cloud club clue cluster coach coal coalition coast coat code coffee cognitive cold collapse colleague collect collection collective college colonial color column combination combine come comedy comfort comfortable command commander comment commercial commission commit commitment committee common communicate communication community company compare comparison compete competition competitive competitor complain complaint complete completely complex complicated component compose composition comprehensive computer concentrate concentration concept concern concerned concert conclude conclusion concrete condition conduct conference confidence confident confirm conflict confront confusion Congress congressional connect connection consciousness consensus consequence conservative consider considerable consideration consist consistent constant constantly constitute constitutional construct construction consultant consume consumer consumption contact contain container contemporary content contest context continue continued contract contrast contribute contribution control controversial controversy convention conventional conversation convert conviction convince cook cookie cooking cool cooperation cop cope copy core corn corner corporate corporation correct correspondent cost cotton couch could council counselor count counter country county couple courage course court cousin cover coverage cow crack craft crash crazy cream create creation creative creature credit crew crime criminal crisis criteria critic critical criticism criticize crop cross crowd crucial cry cultural culture cup curious current currently curriculum custom customer cut cycle dad daily damage dance danger dangerous dare dark darkness data date daughter day dead deal dealer dear death debate debt decade decide decision deck declare decline decrease deep deeply deer defeat defend defendant defense defensive deficit define definitely definition degree delay deliver delivery demand democracy Democrat democratic demonstrate demonstration deny department depend dependent depending depict depression depth deputy derive describe description desert deserve design designer desire desk desperate despite destroy destruction detail detailed detect determine develop developing development device devote dialogue die diet differ difference different differently difficult difficulty dig digital dimension dining dinner direct direction directly director dirt dirty disability disagree disappear disaster discipline discourse discover discovery discrimination discuss discussion disease dish dismiss disorder display dispute distance distant distinct distinction distinguish distribute distribution district diverse diversity divide division divorce DNA do doctor document dog domestic dominant dominate door double doubt down downtown dozen draft drag drama dramatic dramatically draw drawing dream dress drink drive driver drop drug dry due during dust duty each eager ear early earn earnings earth ease easily east eastern easy eat economic economics economist economy edge edition editor educate education educational educator effect effective effectively efficiency efficient effort egg eight either elderly elect election electric electricity electronic element elementary eliminate elite else elsewhere e-mail embrace emerge emergency emission emotion emotional emphasis emphasize employ employee employer employment empty enable encounter encourage end enemy energy enforcement engage engine engineer engineering English enhance enjoy enormous enough ensure enter enterprise entertainment entire entirely entrance entry environment environmental episode equal equally equipment era error escape especially essay essential essentially establish establishment estate estimate etc ethics ethnic European evaluate evaluation even evening event eventually ever every everybody everyday everyone everything everywhere evidence evolution evolve exact exactly examination examine example exceed excellent except exception exchange exciting executive exercise exhibit exhibition exist existence existing expand expansion expect expectation expense expensive experience experiment expert explain explanation explode explore explosion expose exposure express expression extend extension extensive extent external extra extraordinary extreme extremely eye fabric face facility fact factor factory faculty fade fail failure fair fairly faith fall false familiar family famous fan fantasy far farm farmer fashion fast fat fate father fault favor favorite fear feature federal fee feed feel feeling fellow female fence few fewer fiber fiction field fifteen fifth fifty fight fighter fighting figure file fill film final finally finance financial find finding fine finger finish fire firm first fish fishing fit fitness five fix flag flame flat flavor flee flesh flight float floor flow flower fly focus folk follow following food foot football for force foreign forest forever forget form formal formation former formula forth fortune forward found foundation founder four fourth frame framework free freedom freeze French frequency frequent frequently fresh friend friendly friendship from front fruit frustration fuel full fully fun function fund fundamental funding funeral funny furniture furthermore future gain galaxy gallery game gang gap garage garden garlic gas gate gather gay gaze gear gender gene general generally generate generation genetic gentleman gently German gesture get ghost giant gift gifted girl girlfriend give given glad glance glass global glove go goal God gold golden golf good government governor grab grade gradually graduate grain grand grandfather grandmother grant grass grave gray great greatest green grocery ground group grow growing growth guarantee guard guess guest guide guideline guilty gun guy habit habitat hair half hall hand handful handle hang happen happy hard hardly hat hate have he head headline headquarters health healthy hear hearing heart heat heaven heavily heavy heel height helicopter hell hello help helpful her here heritage hero herself hey hi hide high highlight highly highway hill him himself hip hire his historian historic historical history hit hold hole holiday holy home homeless honest honey honor hope horizon horror horse hospital host hot hotel hour house household housing how however huge human humor hundred hungry hunter hunting hurt husband hypothesis I ice idea ideal identification identify identity ie if ignore ill illegal illness illustrate image imagination imagine immediate immediately immigrant immigration impact implement implication imply importance important impose impossible impress impression impressive improve improvement in incentive incident include including income incorporate increase increased increasing increasingly incredible indeed independence independent index Indian indicate indication individual industrial industry infant infection inflation influence inform information ingredient initial initially initiative injury inner innocent inquiry inside insight insist inspire install instance instead institution institutional instruction instructor instrument insurance intellectual intelligence intend intense intensity intention interaction interest interested interesting internal international Internet interpret interpretation intervention interview into introduce introduction invasion invest investigate investigation investigator investment investor invite involve involved involvement Iraqi Irish iron Islamic island Israeli issue it Italian item its itself jacket jail Japanese jet Jew Jewish job join joint joke journal journalist journey joy judge judgment juice jump junior jury just justice justify keep key kick kid kill killer killing kind king kiss kitchen knee knife knock know knowledge lab label labor laboratory lack lady lake land landscape language lap large largely last late later Latin latter laugh launch law lawn lawsuit lawyer lay layer lead leader leadership leading leaf league lean learn learning least leather leave left leg legacy legal legend legislation legitimate lemon length less lesson let letter level liberal library license lie life lifestyle lifetime lift light like likely limit limitation limited line link lip list listen literally literary literature little live living load loan local locate location lock long long-term look loose lose loss lost lot lots loud love lovely lover low lower luck lucky lunch lung machine mad magazine mail main mainly maintain maintenance major majority make maker makeup male mall man manage management manager manner manufacturer manufacturing many map margin mark market marketing marriage married marry mask mass massive master match material math matter may maybe mayor me meal mean meaning meanwhile measure measurement meat mechanism media medical medication medicine medium meet meeting member membership memory mental mention menu mere merely mess message metal meter method Mexican middle might military milk million mind mine minister minor minority minute miracle mirror miss missile mission mistake mix mixture mm-hmm mode model moderate modern modest mom moment money monitor month mood moon moral more moreover morning mortgage most mostly mother motion motivation motor mount mountain mouse mouth move movement movie Mr Mrs Ms much multiple murder muscle museum music musical musician Muslim must mutual my myself mystery myth naked name narrative narrow nation national native natural naturally nature near nearby nearly necessarily necessary neck need negative negotiate negotiation neighbor neighborhood neither nerve nervous net network never nevertheless new newly news newspaper next nice night nine no nobody nod noise nomination none nonetheless nor normal normally north northern nose not note nothing notice notion novel now nowhere n't nuclear number numerous nurse nut object objective obligation observation observe observer obtain obvious obviously occasion occasionally occupation occupy occur ocean odd odds of off offense offensive offer office officer official often oh oil ok okay old Olympic on once one ongoing onion online only onto open opening operate operating operation operator opinion opponent opportunity oppose opposite opposition option or orange order ordinary organic organization organize orientation origin original originally other others otherwise ought our ourselves out outcome outside oven over overall overcome overlook owe own owner pace pack package page pain painful paint painter painting pair pale Palestinian palm pan panel pant paper parent park parking part participant participate participation particular particularly partly partner partnership party pass passage passenger passion past patch path patient pattern pause pay payment PC peace peak peer penalty people pepper per perceive percentage perception perfect perfectly perform performance perhaps period permanent permission permit person personal personality personally personnel perspective persuade pet phase phenomenon philosophy phone photo photograph photographer phrase physical physically physician piano pick picture pie piece pile pilot pine pink pipe pitch place plan plane planet planning plant plastic plate platform play player please pleasure plenty plot plus PM pocket poem poet poetry point pole police policy political politically politician politics poll pollution pool poor pop popular population porch port portion portrait portray pose position positive possess possibility possible possibly post pot potato potential potentially pound pour poverty powder power powerful practical practice pray prayer precisely predict prefer preference pregnancy pregnant preparation prepare prescription presence present presentation preserve president presidential press pressure pretend pretty prevent previous previously price pride priest primarily primary prime principal principle print prior priority prison prisoner privacy private probably problem procedure proceed process produce producer product production profession professional professor profile profit program progress project prominent promise promote prompt proof proper properly property proportion proposal propose proposed prosecutor prospect protect protection protein protest proud prove provide provider province provision psychological psychologist psychology public publication publicly publish publisher pull punishment purchase pure purpose pursue push put qualify quality quarter quarterback question quick quickly quiet quietly quit quite quote race racial radical radio rail rain raise range rank rapid rapidly rare rarely rate rather rating ratio raw reach react reaction read reader reading ready real reality realize really reason reasonable recall receive recent recently recipe recognition recognize recommend recommendation record recording recover recovery recruit red reduce reduction refer reference reflect reflection reform refugee refuse regard regarding regardless regime region regional register regular regularly regulate regulation reinforce reject relate relation relationship relative relatively relax release relevant relief religion religious rely remain remaining remarkable remember remind remote remove repeat repeatedly replace reply report reporter represent representation representative Republican reputation request require requirement research researcher resemble reservation resident resist resistance resolution resolve resort resource respect respond respondent response responsibility responsible rest restaurant restore restriction result retain retire retirement return reveal revenue review revolution rhythm rice rich rid ride rifle right ring rise risk river road rock role roll romantic roof room root rope rose rough roughly round route routine row rub rule run running rural rush Russian sacred sad safe safety sake salad salary sale sales salt same sample sanction sand satellite satisfaction satisfy sauce save saving say scale scandal scared scenario scene schedule scheme scholar scholarship school science scientific scientist scope score scream screen script sea search season seat second secret secretary section sector secure security see seed seek seem segment seize select selection self sell Senate senator send senior sense sensitive sentence separate sequence series serious seriously serve service session set setting settle settlement seven several severe sex sexual shade shadow shake shall shape share sharp she sheet shelf shell shelter shift shine ship shirt shit shock shoe shoot shooting shop shopping shore short shortly shot should shoulder shout show shower shrug shut sick side sigh sight sign signal significance significant significantly silence silent silver similar similarly simple simply sin since sing singer single sink sir sister sit site situation six size ski skill skin sky slave sleep slice slide slight slightly slip slow slowly small smart smell smile smoke smooth snap snow so so-called soccer social society soft software soil solar soldier solid solution solve some somebody somehow someone something sometimes somewhat somewhere son song soon sophisticated sorry sort soul sound soup source south southern Soviet space Spanish speak speaker special specialist species specific specifically speech speed spend spending spin spirit spiritual split spokesman sport spot spread spring square squeeze stability stable staff stage stair stake stand standard standing star stare start state statement station statistics status stay steady steal steel step stick still stir stock stomach stone stop storage store storm story straight strange stranger strategic strategy stream street strength strengthen stress stretch strike string strip stroke strong strongly structure struggle student studio study stuff stupid style subject submit subsequent substance substantial succeed success successful successfully such sudden suddenly sue suffer sufficient sugar suggest suggestion suicide suit summer summit sun super supply support supporter suppose supposed Supreme sure surely surface surgery surprise surprised surprising surprisingly surround survey survival survive survivor suspect sustain swear sweep sweet swim swing switch symbol symptom system table tablespoon tactic tail take tale talent talk tall tank tap tape target task taste tax taxpayer tea teach teacher teaching team tear teaspoon technical technique technology teen teenager telephone telescope television tell temperature temporary ten tend tendency tennis tension tent term terms terrible territory terror terrorism terrorist test testify testimony testing text than thank thanks that the theater their them theme themselves then theory therapy there therefore these they thick thin thing think thinking third thirty this those though thought thousand threat threaten three throat through throughout throw thus ticket tie tight time tiny tip tire tired tissue title to tobacco today toe together tomato tomorrow tone tongue tonight too tool tooth top topic toss total totally touch tough tour tourist tournament toward towards tower town toy trace track trade tradition traditional traffic tragedy trail train training transfer transform transformation transition translate transportation travel treat treatment treaty tree tremendous trend trial tribe trick trip troop trouble truck true truly trust truth try tube tunnel turn TV twelve twenty twice twin two type typical typically ugly ultimate ultimately unable uncle under undergo understand understanding unfortunately uniform union unique unit United universal universe university unknown unless unlike unlikely until unusual up upon upper urban urge us use used useful user usual usually utility vacation valley valuable value variable variation variety various vary vast vegetable vehicle venture version versus very vessel veteran via victim victory video view viewer village violate violation violence violent virtually virtue virus visible vision visit visitor visual vital voice volume volunteer vote voter vs vulnerable wage wait wake walk wall wander want war warm warn warning wash waste watch water wave way we weak wealth wealthy weapon wear weather wedding week weekend weekly weigh weight welcome welfare well west western wet what whatever wheel when whenever where whereas whether which while whisper white who whole whom whose why wide widely widespread wife wild will willing win wind window wine wing winner winter wipe wire wisdom wise wish with withdraw within without witness woman wonder wonderful wood wooden word work worker working works workshop world worried worry worth would wound wrap write writer writing wrong yard yeah year yell yellow yes yesterday yet yield you young your yours yourself youth zone.

Movie jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho 3a sei-jigoku reaction. Poop With 2, 500 to 3, 000 words, you can understand 90% of everyday English conversations, English newspaper and magazine articles, and English used in the workplace. The remaining 10% you'll be able to learn from context, or ask questions about. However, it's essential to learn the right English vocabulary words, so you don't waste your time trying to memorize a huge collection with very little benefit. The list below seems long, but when you can use all these words with confidence, your English vocabulary will be fully functional. a abandon ability able abortion about above abroad absence absolute absolutely absorb abuse academic accept access accident accompany accomplish according account accurate accuse achieve achievement acid acknowledge acquire across act action active activist activity actor actress actual actually ad adapt add addition additional address adequate adjust adjustment administration administrator admire admission admit adolescent adopt adult advance advanced advantage adventure advertising advice advise adviser advocate affair affect afford afraid African African-American after afternoon again against age agency agenda agent aggressive ago agree agreement agricultural ah ahead aid aide AIDS aim air aircraft airline airport album alcohol alive all alliance allow ally almost alone along already also alter alternative although always AM amazing American among amount analysis analyst analyze ancient and anger angle angry animal anniversary announce annual another answer anticipate anxiety any anybody anymore anyone anything anyway anywhere apart apartment apparent apparently appeal appear appearance apple application apply appoint appointment appreciate approach appropriate approval approve approximately Arab architect area argue argument arise arm armed army around arrange arrangement arrest arrival arrive art article artist artistic as Asian aside ask asleep aspect assault assert assess assessment asset assign assignment assist assistance assistant associate association assume assumption assure at athlete athletic atmosphere attach attack attempt attend attention attitude attorney attract attractive attribute audience author authority auto available average avoid award aware awareness away awful baby back background bad badly bag bake balance ball ban band bank bar barely barrel barrier base baseball basic basically basis basket basketball bathroom battery battle be beach bean bear beat beautiful beauty because become bed bedroom beer before begin beginning behavior behind being belief believe bell belong below belt bench bend beneath benefit beside besides best bet better between beyond Bible big bike bill billion bind biological bird birth birthday bit bite black blade blame blanket blind block blood blow blue board boat body bomb bombing bond bone book boom boot border born borrow boss both bother bottle bottom boundary bowl box boy boyfriend brain branch brand bread break breakfast breast breath breathe brick bridge brief briefly bright brilliant bring British broad broken brother brown brush buck budget build building bullet bunch burden burn bury bus business busy but butter button buy buyer by cabin cabinet cable cake calculate call camera camp campaign campus can Canadian cancer candidate cap capability capable capacity capital captain capture car carbon card care career careful carefully carrier carry case cash cast cat catch category Catholic cause ceiling celebrate celebration celebrity cell center central century CEO ceremony certain certainly chain chair chairman challenge chamber champion championship chance change changing channel chapter character characteristic characterize charge charity chart chase cheap check cheek cheese chef chemical chest chicken chief child childhood Chinese chip chocolate choice cholesterol choose Christian Christmas church cigarette circle circumstance cite citizen city civil civilian claim class classic classroom clean clear clearly client climate climb clinic clinical clock close closely closer clothes clothing cloud club clue cluster coach coal coalition coast coat code coffee cognitive cold collapse colleague collect collection collective college colonial color column combination combine come comedy comfort comfortable command commander comment commercial commission commit commitment committee common communicate communication community company compare comparison compete competition competitive competitor complain complaint complete completely complex complicated component compose composition comprehensive computer concentrate concentration concept concern concerned concert conclude conclusion concrete condition conduct conference confidence confident confirm conflict confront confusion Congress congressional connect connection consciousness consensus consequence conservative consider considerable consideration consist consistent constant constantly constitute constitutional construct construction consultant consume consumer consumption contact contain container contemporary content contest context continue continued contract contrast contribute contribution control controversial controversy convention conventional conversation convert conviction convince cook cookie cooking cool cooperation cop cope copy core corn corner corporate corporation correct correspondent cost cotton couch could council counselor count counter country county couple courage course court cousin cover coverage cow crack craft crash crazy cream create creation creative creature credit crew crime criminal crisis criteria critic critical criticism criticize crop cross crowd crucial cry cultural culture cup curious current currently curriculum custom customer cut cycle dad daily damage dance danger dangerous dare dark darkness data date daughter day dead deal dealer dear death debate debt decade decide decision deck declare decline decrease deep deeply deer defeat defend defendant defense defensive deficit define definitely definition degree delay deliver delivery demand democracy Democrat democratic demonstrate demonstration deny department depend dependent depending depict depression depth deputy derive describe description desert deserve design designer desire desk desperate despite destroy destruction detail detailed detect determine develop developing development device devote dialogue die diet differ difference different differently difficult difficulty dig digital dimension dining dinner direct direction directly director dirt dirty disability disagree disappear disaster discipline discourse discover discovery discrimination discuss discussion disease dish dismiss disorder display dispute distance distant distinct distinction distinguish distribute distribution district diverse diversity divide division divorce DNA do doctor document dog domestic dominant dominate door double doubt down downtown dozen draft drag drama dramatic dramatically draw drawing dream dress drink drive driver drop drug dry due during dust duty each eager ear early earn earnings earth ease easily east eastern easy eat economic economics economist economy edge edition editor educate education educational educator effect effective effectively efficiency efficient effort egg eight either elderly elect election electric electricity electronic element elementary eliminate elite else elsewhere e-mail embrace emerge emergency emission emotion emotional emphasis emphasize employ employee employer employment empty enable encounter encourage end enemy energy enforcement engage engine engineer engineering English enhance enjoy enormous enough ensure enter enterprise entertainment entire entirely entrance entry environment environmental episode equal equally equipment era error escape especially essay essential essentially establish establishment estate estimate etc ethics ethnic European evaluate evaluation even evening event eventually ever every everybody everyday everyone everything everywhere evidence evolution evolve exact exactly examination examine example exceed excellent except exception exchange exciting executive exercise exhibit exhibition exist existence existing expand expansion expect expectation expense expensive experience experiment expert explain explanation explode explore explosion expose exposure express expression extend extension extensive extent external extra extraordinary extreme extremely eye fabric face facility fact factor factory faculty fade fail failure fair fairly faith fall false familiar family famous fan fantasy far farm farmer fashion fast fat fate father fault favor favorite fear feature federal fee feed feel feeling fellow female fence few fewer fiber fiction field fifteen fifth fifty fight fighter fighting figure file fill film final finally finance financial find finding fine finger finish fire firm first fish fishing fit fitness five fix flag flame flat flavor flee flesh flight float floor flow flower fly focus folk follow following food foot football for force foreign forest forever forget form formal formation former formula forth fortune forward found foundation founder four fourth frame framework free freedom freeze French frequency frequent frequently fresh friend friendly friendship from front fruit frustration fuel full fully fun function fund fundamental funding funeral funny furniture furthermore future gain galaxy gallery game gang gap garage garden garlic gas gate gather gay gaze gear gender gene general generally generate generation genetic gentleman gently German gesture get ghost giant gift gifted girl girlfriend give given glad glance glass global glove go goal God gold golden golf good government governor grab grade gradually graduate grain grand grandfather grandmother grant grass grave gray great greatest green grocery ground group grow growing growth guarantee guard guess guest guide guideline guilty gun guy habit habitat hair half hall hand handful handle hang happen happy hard hardly hat hate have he head headline headquarters health healthy hear hearing heart heat heaven heavily heavy heel height helicopter hell hello help helpful her here heritage hero herself hey hi hide high highlight highly highway hill him himself hip hire his historian historic historical history hit hold hole holiday holy home homeless honest honey honor hope horizon horror horse hospital host hot hotel hour house household housing how however huge human humor hundred hungry hunter hunting hurt husband hypothesis I ice idea ideal identification identify identity ie if ignore ill illegal illness illustrate image imagination imagine immediate immediately immigrant immigration impact implement implication imply importance important impose impossible impress impression impressive improve improvement in incentive Furry rawr uwu Lmao incident include including income incorporate increase increased increasing increasingly incredible indeed independence independent index Indian indicate indication individual industrial industry infant infection inflation influence inform information ingredient initial initially initiative injury inner innocent inquiry inside insight insist inspire install instance instead institution institutional instruction instructor instrument insurance intellectual intelligence intend intense intensity intention interaction interest interested interesting internal international Internet interpret interpretation intervention interview into introduce introduction invasion invest investigate investigation investigator investment investor invite involve involved involvement Iraqi Irish iron Islamic island Israeli issue it Italian item its itself jacket jail Japanese jet Jew Jewish job join joint joke journal journalist journey joy judge judgment juice jump junior jury just justice justify keep key kick kid kill killer killing kind king kiss kitchen knee knife knock know knowledge lab label labor laboratory lack lady lake land landscape language lap large largely last late later Latin latter laugh launch law lawn lawsuit lawyer lay layer lead leader leadership leading leaf league lean learn learning least leather leave left leg legacy legal legend legislation legitimate lemon length less lesson let letter level liberal library license lie life lifestyle lifetime lift light like likely limit limitation limited line link lip list listen literally literary literature little live living load loan local locate location lock long long-term look loose lose loss lost lot lots loud love lovely lover low lower luck lucky lunch lung machine mad magazine mail main mainly maintain maintenance major majority make maker makeup male mall man manage management manager manner manufacturer manufacturing many map margin mark market marketing marriage married marry mask mass massive master match material math matter may maybe mayor me meal mean meaning meanwhile measure measurement meat mechanism media medical medication medicine medium meet meeting member membership memory mental mention menu mere merely mess message metal meter method Mexican middle might military milk million mind mine minister minor minority minute miracle mirror miss missile mission mistake mix mixture mm-hmm mode model moderate modern modest mom moment money monitor month mood moon moral more moreover morning mortgage most mostly mother motion motivation motor mount mountain mouse mouth move movement movie Mr Mrs Ms much multiple murder muscle museum music musical musician Muslim must mutual my myself mystery myth naked name narrative narrow nation national native natural naturally nature near nearby nearly necessarily necessary neck need negative negotiate negotiation neighbor neighborhood neither nerve nervous net network never nevertheless new newly news newspaper next nice night nine no nobody nod noise nomination none nonetheless nor normal normally north northern nose not note nothing notice notion novel now nowhere n't nuclear number numerous nurse nut object objective obligation observation observe observer obtain obvious obviously occasion occasionally occupation occupy occur ocean odd odds of off offense offensive offer office officer official often oh oil ok okay old Olympic on once one ongoing onion online only onto open opening operate operating operation operator opinion opponent opportunity oppose opposite opposition option or orange order ordinary organic organization organize orientation origin original originally other others otherwise ought our ourselves out outcome outside oven over overall overcome overlook owe own owner pace pack package page pain painful paint painter painting pair pale Palestinian palm pan panel pant paper parent park parking part participant participate participation particular particularly partly partner partnership party pass passage passenger passion past patch path patient pattern pause pay payment PC peace peak peer penalty people pepper per perceive percentage perception perfect perfectly perform performance perhaps period permanent permission permit person personal personality personally personnel perspective persuade pet phase phenomenon philosophy phone photo photograph photographer phrase physical physically physician piano pick picture pie piece pile pilot pine pink pipe pitch place plan plane planet planning plant plastic plate platform play player please pleasure plenty plot plus PM pocket poem poet poetry point pole police policy political politically politician politics poll pollution pool poor pop popular population porch port portion portrait portray pose position positive possess possibility possible possibly post pot potato potential potentially pound pour poverty powder power powerful practical practice pray prayer precisely predict prefer preference pregnancy pregnant preparation prepare prescription presence present presentation preserve president presidential press pressure pretend pretty prevent previous previously price pride priest primarily primary prime principal principle print prior priority prison prisoner privacy private probably problem procedure proceed process produce producer product production profession professional professor profile profit program progress project prominent promise promote prompt proof proper properly property proportion proposal propose proposed prosecutor prospect protect protection protein protest proud prove provide provider province provision psychological psychologist psychology public publication publicly publish publisher pull punishment purchase pure purpose pursue push put qualify quality quarter quarterback question quick quickly quiet quietly quit quite quote race racial radical radio rail rain raise range rank rapid rapidly rare rarely rate rather rating ratio raw reach react reaction read reader reading ready real reality realize really reason reasonable recall receive recent recently recipe recognition recognize recommend recommendation record recording recover recovery recruit red reduce reduction refer reference reflect reflection reform refugee refuse regard regarding regardless regime region regional register regular regularly regulate regulation reinforce reject relate relation relationship relative relatively relax release relevant relief religion religious rely remain remaining remarkable remember remind remote remove repeat repeatedly replace reply report reporter represent representation representative Republican reputation request require requirement research researcher resemble reservation resident resist resistance resolution resolve resort resource respect respond respondent response responsibility responsible rest restaurant restore restriction result retain retire retirement return reveal revenue review revolution rhythm rice rich rid ride rifle right ring rise risk river road rock role roll romantic roof room root rope rose rough roughly round route routine row rub rule run running rural rush Russian sacred sad safe safety sake salad salary sale sales salt same sample sanction sand satellite satisfaction satisfy sauce save saving say scale scandal scared scenario scene schedule scheme scholar scholarship school science scientific scientist scope score scream screen script sea search season seat second secret secretary section sector secure security see seed seek seem segment seize select selection self sell Senate senator send senior sense sensitive sentence separate sequence series serious seriously serve service session set setting settle settlement seven several severe sex sexual shade shadow shake shall shape share sharp she sheet shelf shell shelter shift shine ship shirt shit shock shoe shoot shooting shop shopping shore short shortly shot should shoulder shout show shower shrug shut sick side sigh sight sign signal significance significant significantly silence silent silver similar similarly simple simply sin since sing singer single sink sir sister sit site situation six size ski skill skin sky slave sleep slice slide slight slightly slip slow slowly small smart smell smile smoke smooth snap snow so so-called soccer social society soft software soil solar soldier solid solution solve some somebody somehow someone something sometimes somewhat somewhere son song soon sophisticated sorry sort soul sound soup source south southern Soviet space Spanish speak speaker special specialist species specific specifically speech speed spend spending spin spirit spiritual split spokesman sport spot spread spring square squeeze stability stable staff stage stair stake stand standard standing star stare start state statement station statistics status stay steady steal steel step stick still stir stock stomach stone stop storage store storm story straight strange stranger strategic strategy stream street strength strengthen stress stretch strike string strip stroke strong strongly structure struggle student studio study stuff stupid style subject submit subsequent substance substantial succeed success successful successfully such sudden suddenly sue suffer sufficient sugar suggest suggestion suicide suit summer summit sun super supply support supporter suppose supposed Supreme sure surely surface surgery surprise surprised surprising surprisingly surround survey survival survive survivor suspect sustain swear sweep sweet swim swing switch symbol symptom system table tablespoon tactic tail take tale talent talk tall tank tap tape target task taste tax taxpayer tea teach teacher teaching team tear teaspoon technical technique technology teen teenager telephone telescope television tell temperature temporary ten tend tendency tennis tension tent term terms terrible territory terror terrorism terrorist test testify testimony testing text than thank thanks that the theater their them theme themselves then theory therapy there therefore these they thick thin thing think thinking third thirty this those though thought thousand threat threaten three throat through throughout throw thus ticket tie tight time tiny tip tire tired tissue title to tobacco today toe together tomato tomorrow tone tongue tonight too tool tooth top topic toss total totally touch tough tour tourist tournament toward towards tower town toy trace track trade tradition traditional traffic tragedy trail train training transfer transform transformation transition translate transportation travel treat treatment treaty tree tremendous trend trial tribe trick trip troop trouble truck true truly trust truth try tube tunnel turn TV twelve twenty twice twin two type typical typically ugly ultimate ultimately unable uncle under undergo understand understanding unfortunately uniform union unique unit United universal universe university unknown unless unlike unlikely until unusual up upon upper urban urge us use used useful user usual usually utility vacation valley valuable value variable variation variety various vary vast vegetable vehicle venture version versus very vessel veteran via victim victory video view viewer village violate violation violence violent virtually virtue virus visible vision visit visitor visual vital voice volume volunteer vote voter vs vulnerable wage wait wake walk wall wander want war warm warn warning wash waste watch water wave way we weak wealth wealthy weapon wear weather wedding week weekend weekly weigh weight welcome welfare well west western wet what whatever wheel when whenever where whereas whether which while whisper white who whole whom whose why wide widely widespread wife wild will willing win wind window wine wing winner winter wipe wire wisdom wise wish with withdraw within without witness woman wonder wonderful wood wooden word work worker working works workshop world worried worry worth would wound wrap write writer writing wrong yard yeah year yell yellow yes yesterday yet yield you young your yours yourself youth zone Furry rawr uwu moment.

Movie jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho 3a sei-jigoku hd. I attend a very forward thinking liberal arts school that challenges you to be creative. Thus, I used my college thesis assignment to finally explore and answer the age old question of “which is worse: being kicked in the balls or the vag? ” And after nearly two years of research, I shall reveal my findings. Seriously. I really wrote my college thesis on something middle school kids argue about. (Side note: it helped me get into the grad schools of Stanford, Vandy, Penn and Princeton, and am taking a year off to travel to South America before I decide which one to go to. I guess Harvard and Columbia Medicine didnt appreciate it as much. Before we get started, a quick background. The seed for my writing about comparing the effect groin attacks on the two sexes as a college thesis was planted on New Years Eve 2010, because that was when my eyes were really first opened to the subject- and yes, I remember the date damned well. From TV and pop culture, not to mention being a boy, I always knew it hurt for boys to be kicked in the balls. My younger sister (by 19 months) knew so, too, and she would take advantage of this whenever she could. This continued until that day, when my parents went out to a movie and left us home alone. She got mad about me talking too loud on my phone and for the last time ever, kicked my balls- and I just snapped. Being a normal 14 year old boy who shot the shit at school and sleepaway camp, I knew that a girls clitoris was this tiny pea of sexual pleasure, but being a normal 14 year old boy, I didnt have any real experience with it. I did, however, wonder if an organ that was so sensitive to pleasure was also sensitive to pain, and decided that my sister had just earned herself the honor of being the guinea pig for a real life experiment to find out. So I found her on her bed a few minutes later, told her I just wanted to talk and promised I wasnt mad so shed let her guard down. I ended my little soliloquy with “youre my sister and I love you, ” and gestured her to get up and give me a hug. She bought it, and as soon as she stood up, it was ready, aim, fire. That kick was delivered with several years worth of frustration of her thinking she could get away with hitting me in my groin and I couldnt get her back because Im a male and shes a female, so I didnt hold back. I kicked my little sister in the clitoris with all my might. Holy shit. Ive never witnessed another human being in as much pain as my 13 year old sister in that moment, and that includes in both my personal experience and what Ive seen on the internet. Sure, she was a 13 year old girl, but she was a pretty tough kid. Id seen her take elbows to the face in basketball games that caused her nose to bleed without so much as a whimper. Id seen her fall out of a tree from about ten feet up and land facedown with nothing more than a quick gasp on impact before standing up on her own. Id even seen her break her ankle by jumping off a swing set and landing wrong, and all she did was suck in her breath, grit her teeth and limp back inside the house with her friend and I helping. So when I witnessed that same girl let out an ear splitting scream, grab her vulva and start bawling her eyes out, I knew Id hurt her. Badly. I dont remember a ton from what happened next, because immediately after administering a full force kick to my 13 year old sisters clitoris with the toe of my shoe that caused her to burst into tears and scream bloody murder, my instinct was “uh-oh, Im fucked when Mom and Dad get home. ” I do remember her crying extremely hard, not merely having her eyes water from the pain but actually breaking down and sobbing, and was still rolling around on the floor squeezing her genitals between her legs when I popped my head back into her room about five minutes later. I also remember running into my room and spending my last few hours on the internet Id have until July 4th weekend googling female groin injuries. Oh, and as for how do I remember the date? Because I got grounded for six fucking months for confirming my hypothesis on my sister, meaning I was basically under house arrest from New Years Day until three days before July 4 for what I did that day. And by what I did, I mean causing my sister what her doctor told my mom was “nerve damage to her clitoris. ” Again. Im happy to report that eight years later, my sister and I are the best of friends. Shes a really smart, objectively attractive girl whos going to make some guy very happy some day and who has grown past that dreadful experience to become a star athlete at a D-1 school. I love her to death, and am so proud of her that Id throw her name out there as a bragging right if doing so wouldnt cause her more embarrassment from an incident that our whole school laughed at her for for weeks. She was pretty cool about the whole thing, honestly, given that she later told me she was “absolutely miserable for about two hours” and that in the immediate aftermath she was in so much pain she tried to smash her head against the wall, thinking she would knock herself unconscious and at least put an end to her agony (so thats what that bumping sound was. She also mentioned that she was still feeling sore and couldnt sit or pee without pain for two weeks. In that same conversation, roughly five years later, she offered a sincere apology for ever doing it to me (and yes, I did give her the hug she thought she was getting five years earlier) but then she reignited the flame of curiosity about this topic in my head by saying, “I wonder if its worse for girls than it is for guys. ” Challenge accepted. Oftentimes, this debate ends with somebody saying that the only way to know which gender feels more pain from a kick to the crotch is for someone to possess both sets of genitals and thats the end of it. Since people with both sets of genitals are not especially common, the next best way to answer this question is to do a college thesis, which is why I did just that. Lastly, before we get to the details, two quick disclaimers before my research about male vs. female groin trauma is turned over to the public: In no way am I advocating for unprovoked violence against anybody of any kind, much less against peoples genitals. This is a crime. If you kick a person in the groin without what a jury of your peers deems a legitimate reason, you will go to jail. Having said that, violence is unfortunately sometimes a required course of action to prevent violence from being acted upon you. If given the choice of being hurt or hurting the person trying to hurt you, not a single rational person would honestly tell you that theyd pick option A. And yes, sometimes attackers can be women, and women who instigate a physical attack are every much as deserving of feeling the type of pain that will prevent them from doing so as men- a notion that American law agrees with me on as long as the retaliatory force is not wildly disproportionate. And this is also why reading about things like this are highly disturbing, and should be smoked out and eliminated: This was an assignment I had fun with, and that most schools would never allow for a daily journal assignment let alone a college thesis, but I took it with 100% seriousness. That means my findings are purely scientific. No weird BDSM shit here; Im a pre-med major and want to make a career out of science and/or medicine. This is the result of two years of asking friends and relatives of both genders about the topic, arranging for three focus groups on the topic among fellow students at my school, and scouring the web for everything from trusted peer-reviewed experiments to YouTube videos depicting it and everything in between not counting porn and fantasy scenarios (and for those who dont know, theres TONS of it to this theme. Without further ado, lets get to it. The science of the genitals. Males: testicular nerves are mostly unmyelinated (C-Fibres) and accompany the blood vessels. These also found within the arteries as vascular plexus. The testicles are innervated by the testicular nerve (visceral) therefore a blow to the testicles will produce an unpleasant visceral pain T10 down low. The testicles are also connected to the abdomen via the spermatic plexus, which is why males often experience pain in the lower abdomen following a kick there. Females do not have any equivalent part hanging between their legs, although they are much more familiar with this type of pain than many realize: their homologous organs are the ovaries, which sit in the lower abdomen and often ache badly during their time of the month. Females: The clitoris contains literally thousands of A-Delta (thinly myelinated fibres) and C-Fibre (unmyelinated fibres) nerves, and contains the highest concentration of nerve-endings of any body part in the entire human body, male or female. The tightly packed cluster of A-Delta fibres mean that a blow to the clitoris will produce a sudden and explosive sharp pain that is acute, and will usually feel like a burning/stinging sensation. The presence of C-Fibres within the clitoris means that any impact to the region will produce a dull and throbbing pain that is slow in nature. The clitoris is innervated by the pudendal nerve (somatic) therefore a blow to the clitoris will hurt like hell in the clitoris, but often will stay localized. That said: extremely hard shots to the clitoris do have the power to send pain up through the pudendal nerve into the lower abdomen, which is why a small percentage (approximately 18% of female victims report vomiting and nausea. The clitoris is the homologous organ to the penis, so males can imagine the type of pain (although not the extent of it) a female feels if kicked square in the penis. The type of pain. Males: when a boy is struck in the testicles, the first thing he experiences is a shocking type of pain that is capable of dropping him to the fetal position, somewhat comparable to striking the funny bone. That pain will fade fairly quickly, but shortly thereafter, the male will experience a dull, sickening pain that travels from the testicles up the spermatic plexus and into the lower abdomen. In that interval, though, it is possible for the male to experience a rush of adrenaline and continue an attack. Depending on how hard the testicles are struck, the nausea can last anywhere from two to twenty minutes. Unless the male was struck particularly hard and damage was caused, the effects of the blow will be over within twenty minutes or so. With that said, those twenty minutes or so can be absolutely miserable to experience depending on the individual and the nature of the blow. My research shows that this largely depends on how strong a stomach the particular male has. In other words, if a man typically gets motion sickness especially easily, hes likely to feel more pain than most following a kick to the groin. Females: when a girl is struck in the clitoris- and I mean squarely in the clitoris, not in the labia or inside of the thigh, but the clitoris- she experiences a blinding flash of pain that is capable of dropping her into the fetal position. The feeling is somewhat, not totally comparable (albeit more excruciating) to being struck in the nose and the shin bone at the same time, with the pain being felt in one spot and approximately four and a half times as badly. The pain can take anywhere from about fifteen seconds to fifteen minutes to stop throbbing depending on how hard and accurately the strike was landed, but girls often experience pelvic bruising and discomfort sitting down and urinating for days or even weeks after due to the close proximity of the vulva and the pelvic bone. A girls clitoris is the homologous organ to the penis, and thus is very sensitive to the touch. However, unlike the penis, the clitoris has over 8, 000 nerve endings on its exterior head alone, compared to less than half of that (just under 4, 000) in the head of the penis. And also unlike the penis, there are twice as many nerves are jammed into a much smaller area. On top of that, there are 15, 500 additional nerve endings elsewhere in a girls groin. Finally, it is less common than with males, but not altogether impossible, for a girl to experience the pain in her lower stomach as the pain from such a hard blow can travel up her pudendal nerve and shake up the middle part of her body. Because of the so-called “shockwaves, ” female victims of intense groin trauma can feel pain and sickness in her ovaries and uterus even though they were not struck. Long term damage Males: serious testicular injuries are rare. Severe cases of testicular trauma can result in the testicles bruising, swelling, rupturing or being popped up into the abdomen where they were initially formed. If the testicle is damaged to a point where it cannot be repaired, it must be removed, as happens here. Females: serious clitoral injuries are rare as well. Violent attacks to the clitoris can carry the risk of several different types of damage, though, including hematomas, blood clots, vulvodynia, and damage to the 8, 000 nerves within the clitoris. Pelvic and vulvar bruising is fairly common. Females may experience soreness and pain while sitting and urinating for weeks or even months afterwards. Heres a real life example of that: Degree of difficulty to strike the male/female groin Males are born well aware of their balls weakness, and thus are more likely to defend them in a fight. Also, the male attacking you is likely moving around a lot as he positions himself and makes his move, and his testicles are constantly swinging around as he moves. While obviously a bigger target than the clitoris, do not by any means assume that getting to them will be easy. Females have the advantage of the smaller target, and one that is somewhat protected, but one that is immobile. Many females are either unaware of their own genitals tenderness or believe that their fighting opponent is, so the average girl is much less likely to defend her private parts than boys. Also, even if you miss the clitoris, you may still be able to cause your attacker enough pain to get away as the flesh of the vulva is fairly sensitive itself, albeit not as much so as the clitoris. Stopping power in a fight against males Be careful, because this is a double edged sword. Do not let any man trying to act tough or any girl acting like men overreact to being struck in the testicles tell you different. Nut shots can be absolutely devastating, up to and including all the effects you see on TV. So theres no debating what a testicle attack can do. The worst case scenario of a kick to the balls has been well documented through the years. And indeed, because pain is subjective and depends on the individual, some males- even some big and strong ones- do react like that to simple taps or flicks to the nuts. I dont feel the need to link many more examples than that, because the effects of a testicular attack are more than well-known by society, and those effects are very much within the realm of possibility in a real life situation of danger. However, it is not always going to be that effective against somebody who is trying to seriously injure you, as the attacking mans personal tolerance for pain and your accuracy are thrown into the equation. When a person is involved in a heated physical confrontation, his or her body is filled with adrenaline. Below is an example of a guy who, while not in a physical confrontation, is filled with adrenaline because hes on TV and has prepared himself to be struck in the balls- which many attackers have done prior to beginning their assault. One of the effects of a testicular attack is the release of a surplus of more adrenaline. In a street fight where your opponent- likely a big, strong and tough individual- is concentrated solely on injuring you, thats just as likely to piss your attacker off and encourage him to hurt you worse as it is to incapacitate him. Because youve now elevated his adrenaline to an off the charts level, and now hes got extra incentive to hurt, rape or even kill you in his newly added fury whereas before maybe he just wanted your wallet. In serious street fighting situations, a nut shot is honestly a coin flip: it very well might bring him down and end the fight, or it very well might not. This isnt a reason to not kick him in the balls if hes trying to injure or mug you, as you have a right to not be injured or mugged, but this is exactly the reason you must be sure hes trying to cause you physical harm before attacking. And you should deliver the attack fully aware that it might not work, and be prepared to attack him elsewhere and/or run away. That said: a full force kick thats delivered accurately can sometimes cause the painful sensations to overwrite the adrenaline release and drop the man. Now, granted, this is an example from MMA, where the entire purpose is to fight, so this kick is delivered by a ridiculously strong man with decades of training in his background, but this is the pinnacle of the “reward” side of the risk/reward matrix of kicking a man in the testicles: But that example is the anomaly, not the rule. Most of the real life nut shots that you see on YouTube- either from sport, or Americas Funniest Home Videos, or just plain life- resulting in guys collapsing come from situations that are much lighter and less serious, where the male victim doesnt have adrenaline already coursing through him- not to mention situations where the male isnt really thinking about it as a possibility, whereas in fights men are well aware of the possibility. These range from sporting events (which includes MMA, where groin strikes are illegal) or playful (read: idiotic) challenges where the male isnt intending to defend himself from physical danger. In situations where a man is attacking you, he usually knows in the back of his head that being nutted is a real possibility, and being kicked in the balls is often less crippling when the man somewhat knows its coming. In addition, for every nut shot you see on YouTube or in the movies that results in the man being incapacitated, theres likely another four that took place in a serious fight somewhere else in the world where the man barely flinches and continues on with his attack as if nothing had happened; because this does not flow with pop cultures idea of a nut shot, this wont make it to YouTube and nobody will ever know it happened. But dont let any of that completely dissuade you from all youve learned in life about defending yourself. If youre in a fight for your life against a man, by all means kick him in the nuts as hard as you can- because theres a chance that it can do a high amount of damage and an even better chance that it will allow you the chance to run away. Because while its worth stressing yet again that its not guaranteed to cripple him, it absolutely can: And a chance to end the fight is better than allowing yourself to be a victim. We all know the worst case scenario of a testicular kick, because its the only result that ever gets advertised in popular culture. Just know that its not the only result that such an attack can possibly have, be prepared to follow it with something else, and dont expect it to automatically end the fight. Stopping power in a fight against females This is also a double edged sword, albeit one that relies more on the accuracy of the kicker than the attackers personal tolerance for pain. Again, though, lets remember that we are talking about direct strikes to the clitoris, not the vulva in general. Kicking the labia (vaginal lips) or pubic bone will cause pain, but not more than a kick to the shin bone and thus necessarily enough to end a fight against somebody who is intent on hurting you. Make no mistake: every female who claims to have been hit in the crotch and that it doesnt hurt any worse than anywhere else has never been struck square in the clitoris. They may have been hit in the vulva, or somewhere else in the groin area, but not in the clitoris, which is located at the upper end of the vulva. Because its the attack on the clitoris that generates the following results. Results like these. You know, where a woman is so badly hurt that she crumples to the ground, her face is twisted in agony, cant even get up for several minutes, and needs to be taken off the field on a stretcher. This was the result of a Japanese woman taking an inadvertent heel of a cleat to the clit (say that ten times fast) from a German woman in the 2011 Womens World Cup. There wasnt even any intent by the German player to cause damage or pain, but she placed her heel perfectly into the Japanese womans clitoris. But that Japanese woman shouldnt feel bad. Shes not the only woman to suffer a painful genital injury in international soccer this decade. Threes company, right? And while the rest of the examples in this hilariously mistitled compilation video only shows partially struck clitorises, it does strengthen my point that girls would rather get struck anywhere else on their bodies than their clits. Just ask Ronda Rousey. Or this girl: Or this female wrestler: And yes, it happens in kick boxing, too, where “one kick, ” as the video is titled, to the clitoris puts the woman down in anguish. Then theres this reddit thread: Now, as for that last one, Ill grant you that an anonymous reddit poster is hardly a reliable source. Of course, theres no video or even photographic evidence to back up the story here. However, Im inclined to believe the story here because not only are the effects she describes of the kick she took to her vulva consistent with my findings, but it makes sense that a girl who had been kicked in the clitoris would be embarrassed about it for the reasons she describes, would not want to put her name behind any questions regarding the topic, but would very much want answers and thus would seek them anonymously. She even admits to feeling sick to her stomach, a la men after getting hit down low. But anyway, Ill put it very simply for all the males who do not understand the female anatomy: if you strike the clitoris with the tip of your shoe, or something blunt yet thin enough to strike the clitoris directly and not get caught up by the girls inner thighs) in a full force kick, and youre kicking it upwards into the pelvic bone, its game over. Shes going down and thats the end of it, as it causes a sharp stabbing pain that is highly likely to rearrange her priorities by placing “protecting her clitoris” at number one. In contrast to the adrenaline rush many men experience upon receiving a blow to the testicles, women can experience a state of shock for a few seconds that can allow you more time to escape. Though theoretically possible, it is extremely uncommon for women to experience that same adrenaline rush after being struck. For an idea of just how sensitive the clitoris is: in some cases, it doesnt even take an extreme amount of force. In this example, a toddler is able to drop a teenager to the ground in agony just by placement. In most cases, men are bigger and stronger than women. But as you can see here, the girl is clearly bigger and stronger than the boy, yet hes able to incapacitate her with one single punch to the clitoris despite the fact that I seriously doubt he even knows what a clitoris is. The point is, in a situation where a female attacker is stronger than the male victim, the male can get away if he places his attack accurately. Meanwhile, below is an example that doesnt even follow all those criteria: its an inadvertent knee that found its way into a womans groin. but connected directly with the clitoris. Note how the woman falls to the ground, bends over, grabs her vulva, and lets out a few sobs. For an added bonus: kick the clitoris of a female attacker hard enough, and you may even rattle the middle of her body enough to shake up her ovaries as a byproduct, which will cause the same nauseas pain that boys feel after testicle strikes and girls feel with menstrual cramps. A few female victims of groin attacks do admit to throwing up; this is why. If you kick a girl in the crotch and it doesnt incapacitate her, its merely because you didnt kick the clitoris, you probably kicked the vulva, pubic bone or inside of her thigh, and/or you probably kicked with the top of the shoe instead of the toe of your shoe. A direct kick to the clitoris is not a subjective matter; its going to hurt, and its going to hurt bad. And thats why I feel obligated to throw in yet another disclaimer that such a kick should not be used unless you or someone else is in immediate physical danger. This isnt to say that trauma to the vulva in general- as opposed to merely the clitoris- cannot be devastating. There certainly can be excruciating effects from something as simple as a straddle injury (falling on something that hits you between your legs. And no, that case linked above is not an anomaly. They say threes a pattern, right? So, allow each of those above cases to serve as adequate proof: kicking a girl in her genitals with extreme force, even if you dont strike the clitoris directly, can still lead to unbearable pain and serious medical consequences. If you do hit the clitoris, the results are likely to be even more devastating. Which is why, and I cant stress this enough, deploying this tactic should be reserved for when you or a loved one is in danger. Because a vulvar injury can literally hospitalize a woman: This type of injury is called a straddle injury, and is the result of blunt force trauma from a long object that strikes the length of the vulva- like a pole. These examples are terrifying things to watch happen in a sport, or a game show, but let them all be your guide to just how devastating an attack on the female genitals can be. And just in case you havent been convinced by all of those examples, here are a few more. Comparisons between the male and female genitals Because everybody always wants comparisons between the two sets of genital targets, imagine that instead of having two testicles outside her body, a girl only has one. Now imagine that one testicle is the shape and size of a pea. Imagine that its got all the sensitivity of a testicle, but instead of being susceptible to sick, nauseas pain, its filled with the type of sensitivity that causes fiery burning pain. Making it worse for girls, if executed correctly, the kick will crush the clitoris up against her pelvic bone and re-create the same fiery pain again by pressing it forcefully against a hard object (the bone. For further perspective, the fingertip of an adult human has roughly 2, 479 nerve endings in it; the clitoris has over three times that, about 8, 000. So imagine not just jamming your finger, but having someone kick it extremely hard. Then multiply that pain by three. And that still isnt quite as painful as a clit kick. And THEN add the pain of being kicked in the shin. That, boys, is what a kick to the clit feels like. To boot, many girls and women are also unaware of the extent of the pain that can be caused from a clitoral kick, so they wont expect you to kick them there. That element of complete surprise that often causes the extra devastating level of pain for men is going to make things worse for women, too. In addition, although they are significantly harder to hit, a girls ovaries also serve as extremely underrated potential targets to strike in a fight. The ovaries are located halfway between a girls belly button and her vulva, an inch or two on either side. These are the homologous organs to the testicles, so striking them through the lower abdomen will cause similar nauseas pain to the the feeling girls experience during their periods, and boys experience when struck in the groin. Striking a girl at the same height level, but right in the middle, could also potentially result in connecting with the uterus through the fat and muscle of the lower stomach- which produces a similar (though not identical) feeling of sick pain. Lastly: a quick disclaimer about the sensitivity of girls chests. For most girls, getting struck in the boob is not a fun experience- it can be quite painful, actually- but it does not compare to the devastation of a groin kick for either gender. In most girls cases, the breasts are especially tender while theyre developing and during a certain time of the month, while for the duration of their lives are an “ouch” spot, somewhat like the funny bone. So females try to avoid having their breasts bumped or hit because it doesnt feel good to take a knock there, but in a situation where youre being attacked by a woman, the groin, throat, kneecaps and eyes are definitely better targets. Whats the absolute worst that could happen to a person of each gender following a groin kick? In the absolute worst cases for either gender, the victim could potentially experience such excruciating pain that it could literally be fatal. The human body is designed in a way that pain itself is a good thing in that it lets the person know that something is wrong. However, when the body feels enough pain, the heart rate starts to speed up and the persons body will not know how to respond. Thus, an absolutely overwhelming amount of pain- and now Im talking about pain of any kind, not solely to the genitals- can cause the heart to go into overdrive and the body could shut down. As previously discussed, thats true for both men and women. Men feel the overwhelming nauseas pain that makes them want to throw up, while women feel as though theres a fire burning in their clitoris. But pain is pain, and an overload of it for any person- whether to their genitals or anywhere else- will cause the person to go into a state of shock, and if not properly treated, yes, it could be fatal. Awful stuff. But again, it works that way for both genders. So, yes. Attacking a man or a woman in the groin hard enough- even without weapons- can literally kill them. So, who has the worse deal when it comes to being struck in the groin: men or women? My extremely in-depth, scientific and unbiased research has led me to believe that the answer is closer to even than most people would believe- and depending on what level of severity you want to go by, the answer flip flops. For example, in the top 1% most serious of cases reported/treated on each side, its actually worse for the female in terms of long term damage and chronic pain caused. Yes, really. Vulvodynia, which is chronic pain in the female vulva, is a condition that can make innocuous tasks as inserting a tampon or sitting down painful. Of course, here, were talking full-force, perfectly executed kicks directly to the bullseye of the clitoris from a fully grown adult who carries a legitimate desire to hurt someone. The worst 1% of testicular injuries in males will feature chronic pain from ruptured and/or removed testicles- which is something most men will cringe at reading. But the worst 1% of female genital injuries is undeniably worse. That most devastating 1% of groin injuries to females will feature damage to the vulva, the clitoris and the pelvic bone, the aforementioned shockwave effect up the pundendal nerve and damage to the ovaries and uterus. So add that up: approximately 60% as much pain felt in the ovaries as a kick of the same force to the testicles, PLUS the most nerve-filled organ in either the male or female body being crushed, which results in sharp, fiery and stabbing pain, which as mentioned above, if extreme enough, could literally be deadly, PLUS bruising or even breaking of the pelvic bone. Damage leading to testicular removal is terrible, dont get me wrong, but its not worse than more than half of that same exact type of pain to the ovaries AND permanent clitoral damage/vulvodynia that makes pleasurable intercourse impossible for the rest of the womans life AND a broken pelvic bone that requires immediate emergency surgery. But travel a little down the trauma/result matrix and it flips, as the most severe 10% of cases are worse for the male, as testicular damage is easier to cause than clitoral/vulvar/vaginal trauma. And the average shot to the crotch will hurt a boy worse than it will hurt a girl because the average shot isnt delivered with as much malice or care as a full-force kick with serious intent to maim by a fairly strong person. Plus, you know, the testicles are easier to hit, and a higher percentage of shots to the male groin are going to going to hit the testicles than the percentage of shots to the female groin are going to hit the clitoris. Yet, if were talking about a self defense situation where you are willing to do serious damage, there really isnt any way to determine if the average kick to a boys balls or a toe-up kick to a girls clitoris will have the stronger effect- even if we assume that you land it. This is where all the other factors come in- pain tolerance of your attacker, adrenaline rush, how accurately you land it, etc. Most important to remember that just because women dont feel the same type of pain as men doesnt mean they dont feel the same amount of pain following a direct shot to the clitoris. Ill put it this way: when men get kicked in the balls, they feel like they have a stomach virus due to the sick pain they experience. When women get kicked in the clitoris, they feel like theyve been set on fire due to the sharp pain they experience. So “who has it worse? ” is a question that can be answered by whether youd prefer to feel the extremely unpleasant sensation of a stomach virus or the extremely unpleasant sensation of having your genitals set on fire. Yeah, there isnt a good answer to that. They both suck. This is a personal preference between two shitty choices, and thus this is too subjective of a question to answer with one word. I mean, who was worse: Nazis or ISIS? My personal answer is: who gives a shit which of them was worse? Two very different organizations, but both horrible. And with groin strikes, its the same sort of thing. Ultimately, though, it doesnt matter who you think has it worse: a hard strike to the crotch, if landed correctly, is as likely as anything to cripple a person of either gender. If youre going to force me to give a concrete answer? Sure: Ill say a hard and perfectly placed kick to the clitoris is more painful than a kick of equal force to the testicles, because of what I saw my sister go through. Ive been hit in the nuts, hard, and its definitely not an experience Id ever like to repeat. But I have never been reduced to screaming for somebody to help me or trying to knock myself unconscious because of the pain, nor have I seen this, nor have I heard of this in my research following a blow to the testicles. Ethics of kicking men/women in the groin I feel certain that somebody is going to take the entire message of this post the wrong way, so let me be clear about my intentions with a third and fully fleshed out warning. These techniques are not to be used against someone who cuts in front of you at a bar, calls you a cunt, or didnt pay you back the 20 you loaned them. Kicking a person in the groin is a tactic that should only be deployed if you feel as though you could convince a jury of your peers that it was necessary to kick the person in the groin in order to protect yourself, because failure to do so will likely result in you being convicted of assault and battery, and possibly sexual assault or sexual battery as well. Conclusion: In general, groin shots arent 100% reliable against either gender. But thats because pretty much nothing in life is 100% reliable. And for the most part, it really, really sucks for both genders to be hit in the groin; its merely harder to strike a female in the area that can shut them down, but if you hit the respective target areas, its highly likely to cause the recipient horrible, unforgettable pain, regardless of gender. Kids, and adults alike, I strongly advise you against striking fellow people of either gender in the groin unless you are in danger of being seriously injured or killed, because you would not want it done to you. Parents of boys who play sports know to buy them protective cups so Im not going there, but parents of girls: I would STRONGLY recommend girls wear protection over their genitals as well. A hard kick from a sparring partner (karate) or a cleat from a sliding base runner (softball) could cause permanent damage, and more pain than youve ever thought possible. So enough of this “youre lucky youre a girl” nonsense after a girl gets struck in the crotch. Because that isnt accurate; the true sentiment should be, “youre lucky that didnt get you in the clit. ” Above all, be respectful of each other in life, be smart and protect yourself in sports, and above all, just dont strike anybody, girl or boy, in the groin unless you really have no other choice.

This is my third list for this sub. I hope you enjoy it. ART THIEVES, FORGERS, SMUGGLERS. The Art of the Steal by Christopher Mason. A true story about the auction houses Sothebys and Christies and how they conspired to cheat their clients out of millions of dollars. The Billionaires Vinegar: The Mystery of the Worlds Most Expensive Bottle of Wine by Benjamin Wallace. The most expensive bottle of wine and the conflicting reports about its history. This is a book that would enchant wine conessi… conues… lovers. The Gardner Heist: The True Story of the Worlds Largest Unsolved Art Theft by Ulrich Boser. Author Ulrich Boser looks at the unsolved art theft case of Bostons Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The Golden Spruce: A True Story of Myth, Madness, and Greed by John Vaillant. Grant Hadwin, a logger-turned-activist, fells a unique 165 feet Sitka spruce in an act of protest. John Vaillant takes the readers into the heart of North Americas last great forest to find out why he did that. Hitlers Art Thief: Hildebrand Gurlitt, the Nazis, and the Looting of Europes Treasures by Susan Ronald. Hildebrand Gurlitt was an art thief, or as he put it himself, an ‘official dealer for Hitler and Goebbels. But he stole from the Jews and Nazis alike. This book was published after his hoard was recently (2013) discovered which created an international furor. The Irish Game: A True Story of Crime and Art by Matthew Hart. This book is about the art theft at Irelands Russborough House in 1986. The suspect, a gangster named Martin Cahill, played cat and mouse with police for years. The Island of Lost Maps: A True Story of Cartographic Crime by Miles Harvey. When you think about stealing some valuable art, do maps come to your mind? Then this book is for you. Gilbert Joseph Bland Jr. stole numerous centuries-old maps from research libraries in US and Canada. I Was Vermeer: The Rise and Fall of the Twentieth Centurys Greatest Forger by Frank Wynne. Han van Meegeren became so much adapt at forging Vermeer paintings that it is said that even professional experts would find it difficult to point out his works from the originals. He earned more than 50 million by selling his forgeries – and he even swindled the Nazis. The Lizard King: The True Crimes and Passions of the Worlds Greatest Reptile Smugglers by Bryan Christy. Reptile smuggling is a big “business”. The author, a federal agent, suspected a reptile business owner of being a major smuggler and he started investigating. It was not as simple as it sounds because at one point he was chased by a mother alligator and even bitten by a python. The Lost Chalice: The Epic Hunt for a Priceless Masterpiece by Vernon Silver. A 2500 year old cup made by the Greek master Euphronios which depicted the fall of Troy gets stolen and sold (along with 3 other such vessels. Then due to the questionable practice of some art dealers, no one can track down its last known owner. The Lost Painting by Jonathan Harr. With nothing better to do, the author embarks on a journey to discover a Caravaggio painting which was lost to time two hundred years ago. The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and a World of Literary Obsession by Allison Hoover Bartlett. John Charles Gilkey stole rare books not because he wanted to make profit as most thieves do, but because he loved books. I guess if you want to call yourself a book-reader but dont actually want to say… read a book, you could just steal them and show them off to your friends. But who are we to question the wisdom of “booklovers”, right? The Orchid Thief: A True Story of Beauty and Obsession by Susan Orlean. If you thought that stealing maps is a weird “job” to have, how about stealing a rare breed of flower? We all know about the Tulipomania that gripped Netherlands in the 1630s. But this is a modern tale, and the book is perhaps one of the most popular ones on this list. Priceless: How I Went Undercover to Rescue the Worlds Stolen Treasures by Robert K. Wittman, John Shiffman. This book is about Robert K. Wittman, FBIs founder of the Art Crime Team and his undercover missions around the world to rescue various pieces of stolen art. Provenance: How a Con Man and a Forger Rewrote the History of Modern Art by Laney Salisbury. You could have a Jackson Pollock lying around in your basement, but if you cant prove that the piece is real, you might as well use it as a table cloth (I might have exaggerated there a bit, but you get the point. John Myatt, a struggling artist, and John Drewe, a conman who knew the importance of Provenance in the art world, duped many people and museums by creating a fake paper trial that seemed to prove that the art was a real thing and not a forgery. So much so that the experts believe that there might still be some fake paintings created by Myatt displayed in prominent places as the real thing. The Rescue Artist: A True Story of Art, Thieves, and the Hunt for a Missing Masterpiece by Edward Dolnick. Dolnick writes about the theft of Edvard Munchs The Scream from the National Gallery in Oslo in 1994 and the subsequent investigation that took place to track it down. Selling Hitler by Robert Harris In mid-eighties, Hitlers diaries were “discovered” and many experts fell for the con. The backpeddling many did when it was revealed that the diaries were not real is really amusing to read about. Shell Games: Rogues, Smugglers, and the Hunt for Natures Bounty by Craig Welch. This book is about the poaching of a larger-than-life clam – a Geoduck, to be precise, and the subsequent chase from the wildlife police to nab the poacher. Stealing History: Tomb Raiders, Smugglers and the Looting of the Ancient World by Roger Atwood. This book provides a sweeping history of thefts of various priceless antiques. Stealing the Mystic Lamb: The True Story of the Worlds Most Coveted Masterpiece by Noah Charney. The twelve panel oil-painting of the Mystic Lamb is the most frequently stolen artwork in the world. It was stolen 13 times. One wonders whether they could have guarded it a little better after the first couple of times, you know. Anyway, this book describes the events of each theft. Stolen World: A Tale of Reptiles, Smugglers, and Skulduggery by Jennie Erin Smith. Two reptile smugglers compete against each other to conquer the illegal trade for themselves. The funny thing is, the Zoos stood against them in the courts, but they had no problem buying rare fauna from the two smugglers, sometimes simultaneously. Tangled Vines: Greed, Murder, Obsession, and an Arsonist in the Vineyards of California by Frances Dinkelspiel. A massive fire destroyed wines worth 250 million in a California warehouse, making it the largest destruction of wine in history. It was done by a conman named Mark Anderson, who rented storage space at the same warehouse. This book tells why he did that and also goes into the surprisingly bloody history of wine trade in California. (reads well with cranberry juice. Vanished Smile: The Mysterious Theft of Mona Lisa by R. A. Scotti. On August 21, 1911, a man walked out of the Louvre with the Mona Lisa tucked inside his coat (should have painted it bigger, eh Vinci. I am not going to spoil this book for anyone. Read it if you want to know whether Mona Lisa was recovered or was lost to time forever. CARTELS, GANGS, UNDERWORLD. American Desperado: My Life. From Mafia Soldier to Cocaine Cowboy to Secret Government Asset by Jon Roberts, Evan Wright. Jon Roberts, who starred in documentary Cocaine Cowboys tells his story to the journalist Evan Wright in this book. Roberts smuggled drugs to Miami for the Medellin Cartel (which will feature many times in this category. At the Devils Table: The Untold Story of the Insider Who Brought Down the Cali Cartel by William C. Rempel. This is Narcos Season 3, basically. Remember the family guy who gets involved with the Cali Cartel and mops around for the whole season even though he had an unbelievably hot wife who was clearly out of his league? That character was based on Rempel. And if I must say so, the book is more compelling than that season of Narcos. Nothing can beat Agent Pena, though. Black Mass: The True Story of an Unholy Alliance Between the FBI and the Irish Mob by Dick Lehr, Gerard ONeill. The story of James ‘Whitey Bulger – the head of the Irish Mob in Boston - who became an informant for the FBI and chaos ensued. Depp plays Whitey Bulger in the movie adaptation with a soggy tortilla glued to his face as make-up. Blow: How a Small -Town Bay Made 100 Million with the Medellin Cocaine Cartel and Lost it All by Bruce Porter. Another book where Johnny Depp plays the main character in the movie adaptation. This book is about George Jung, who after meeting Carlos Lehder, started selling cocaine in the United States through Medellin Cartel. Cocaine Diaries: A Venezuelan Prison Nightmare by Paul Keany, Jeff Farrell. Paul Keany was caught smuggling half-a-million euro worth of cocaine into Venezuela. He was sentenced to 8 years in prison. Now, prisons everywhere arent exactly fun places to be, but Los Teques where Keany was incarcerated was nothing short of hell on earth. Confessions of a Yakuza by Junichi Saga. Junichi Saga was a doctor by profession. A patient, who was a former Yakuza, recounted his life story before him. Saga recorded the conversations, and broke doctor-patient confidentiality by writing this book. Doctor Dealer: The Rise and Fall of an All-American Boy and His Multimillion-Dollar Cocaine Empire by Mark Bowden. A dentist named Larry Lavin builds the foundation for a cocaine empire in the United States. Donnie Brasco by Joseph D. Pistone, Richard Woodley. Joseph D. Pistone, an FBI agent, goes undercover for six years to infiltrate the Mafia. Do watch the movie too, it is Depps last movie without weird make-up. El Narco: Inside Mexicos Criminal Insurgency by Ioan Grillo. Journalist Ioan Grillo has written, arguably, the definitive book on Mexican drug cartels. Why he is still alive is anybodys guess. Gang Leader for a Day: A Rogue Sociologist Takes to the Streets by Sudhir Venkatesh. Venkatesh, who was a sociology grad student at the time, infiltrated one of Chicagos most notorious gangs. This is one of a kind type of book. Gomorrah by Roberto Saviano. This book is about the Italian Crime Network called Camorra in Naples, Italy. Due to his intensive investigative journalism which exposed lot of insider information about the crime syndicate, author Saviano still has to live under constant police protection. The Good Mothers: The True Story of the Women Who Took on the Worlds Most Powerful Mafia by Alex Perry. This is a recent book, where the author Alex Perry looks inside the ruthless Calabrian Mafia of Italy and three women who want to save their own and their childrens lives. This is a fascinating and courageous look into an aspect of the Mafia which is often overlooked by most. Hunting El Chapo: The Inside Story of the American Lawman Who Captured the Worlds Most Wanted Drug-Lord by Andrew Hogan, Douglas Century. Remember when Joaquin Guzman was caught for the first time and then he escaped and then he was caught again for good? Yes? Then read this one. But this book only focuses on the operation that nabbed him for the first time. I must warn you though – the author, Andrew Hogan – is really really in love with himself and it seeps into his writing. The Infiltrator: My Secret Life Inside the Dirty Banks Behind Pablo Escobars Medellin Cartel by Robert Mazur. Mazur went undercover and actually became a money launderer for Pablo Escobar. This book is more about how bankers actively helped to launder the drug money and how Mazur helped to bring them down. Killing Pablo: The Hunt for the Worlds Greatest Outlaw by Mark Bowden. This is the best book about tracking and eventually killing Pablo Escobar. And as Walter Jr. pointed out to Walter White, it focuses on the good guys, not the bad ones. Good companion book to Pablo Escobar: My Father written by Escobars son. Marching Powder: A True Story of Friendship, Cocaine, and South Americas Strangest Jail by Rusty Young. The author stays inside San Pedro jail for months with a drug smuggler to chronicle his tale. This is one of the most popular books written on cocaine smuggling. McMafia: A Journey Through the Global Criminal Underworld by Misha Glenny. This is a thorough investigation into organized crime worldwide which accounts for 1/5th of total GDP of the world. This book would please readers who are into extensively researched true-crime history books, not so much a casual reader (inb4 - I just read 5 pages of McMafia and wow… just wow. Mr. Blue: Memoirs of a Renegade by Edward Bunker. Edward Bunker had had an eventful life. Incarceration for two and a half decades, being on FBIs most wanted list, and being a crime novelist. This is his autobiography. Nice by Howard Marks. Howard Marks started dealing dope in small quantities while he was studying at Oxford – as you do – and then eventually graduated to dealing it in tons (what the hell was he studying there? Oh, philosophy. This is his fascinating story. Narcoland: The Mexican Drug Lords and Their Godfathers by Anabel Hernandez. Yet another book that resulted in the author getting death threats. This proves the old cliché true that the pen is mightier than the sword; until the sword comes down and cuts your neck. Thats why the author has to live under constant protection. Narconomics: How to Run a Drug Cartel by Tom Wainwright. Any aspiring drug lords should read this instruction manual. Just kidding. Wainwright goes deep into the functioning of various drug cartels and at the end also comes up with a plan to defeat them. News of a Kidnapping by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Little known author tries his hand at true-crime. Pablo Escobar kidnapped 10 journalists when he was on the run from the authorities. This book revolves around that event. The Night it Rained Guns: Unravelling the Purulia Arms Drop Conspiracy by Chandan Nandy. On a December night in 1995, someone airdropped three weapons-laden wooden pallets over Purulia, West Bengal. Who did it and why? This book tells the story about one of Indias greatest ever security breaches. No Angel: My Undercover Journey to the Inner Circle of the Hells Angels by Jay Dobyns, Nils Johnson-Shelton. Dobyns was the first federal agent to infiltrate the inner circle of the notorious biker gang. This is his story. Pablo Escobar: My Father by Juan Pablo Escobar. Juan Pablo is an architect and lives and practices his trade in Argentina. Even though Pablo was his father, Juan does not try to justify his actions even a little bit. This is one of the best books written on Pablo Escobar. The Snakehead: An Epic Tale of the Chinatown Underworld and the American Dream by Patrick Radden Keefe. Sister Ping, leader of the Chinese underworld in the US, earned 40 million a year smuggling people from China. Told from the viewpoints of gangsters, investigators, and poor immigrants alike, this book provides a unique window into the world of human smuggling. Scores: How I Opened the Hottest Strip Club in New York City, Was Extorted out of Millions by the Gambino Family, and Became One of the Most Successful Mafia Informants in FBI History by Michael D. Blutrich. I am disappointed that they went with FBI instead of Federal Bureau of Investigation in the title. Should have made it longer. Scores: How I Opened the Hottest Strip Club in New York City on the 34th Street Just Opposite the Starbucks, Was Extorted out of 4. 54 Millions and 55 Cents Plus Taxes by the Gambino Family, and Became One of the Most Successful Mafia Informants in Federal Bureau of Investigation History by Michael Dostoyevsky Blutrich Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat in Japan by Jake Adelstein. The author, working as a reporter in Japan, writes about the seedy underbelly of crime in the country. The Untouchables by Eliot Ness, Oscar Fraley. Wheres Nitty? Hes in the car. Great movie. How Eliot Ness and his team started the downward spiral in criminal career of Al Capone. A somewhat embellished account was also written in the book, but nonetheless, it is a gripping tale. Veerappan: Chasing the Brigand by K. Vijay Kumar. Koose Muniswamy Veerappan was the last big outlaw of India. A sandalwood smuggler who lived in the forest to evade the police, Veerappan killed hundreds of policemen and civilians. K. Vijay Kumar, the officer who led the task force that ultimately brought down the brigand, is the author of this book. Wiseguy: Life in a Mafia Family by Nicholas Pileggi. Im funny how, I mean funny like Im a clown, I amuse you? Goodfellas is perhaps the best Mafia movie ever made, so read it in his own words why Pileggi might fold under questioning. Zero Zero Zero by Roberto Saviano, Virginia Jewiss. This Saviano guy must have a death wish. But as a handsome list-writer once eloquently said, “If bitten already by a King Cobra, what difference it makes if you French kiss a Black Mamba? ” Since the publication of his book on the Italian crime syndicate, Saviano has to live under constant police protection. So to make sure they dont slack off, he wrote a book on Cocaine Cartel, this time acquiring lots of admirers in Latin America. CONMEN, IMPOSTORS. The Art of Making Money: The Story of a Master Counterfeiter by Jason Kersten. The Art of making money is to make other people work for you; not the other way round. But more scrupulous method of making money would be to counterfeit it. Art Williams did exactly that. Catch Me If You Can: The True Story of a Real Fake by Frank W. Abagnale. Maybe the most popular book on this list, Abagnale Jr. s book is not to be missed even if you have watched the movie starring the actor who had sex with a bear (no, not Tormund. Charlatan: Americas Most Dangerous Huckster, the Man Who Pursued Him, and the Age of Flimflam by Pope Brock. One “Dr. ” John R. Brinkley, set-up a medical practice to surgically insert goat glands in human testicles to restore their fading sex drive. I am not joking, this happened. Conman: A Master Swindlers Own Story by J. R. Weil, W. T. Brannon. Known as “Yellow Kid” Weil was a master conman, who duped public of more than 8 million 100 years ago. Hes called by many as the greatest conman of all time (second to the companies that charge service fees on the internet, of course. Eyeing the Flash: The Making of a Carnival Con Artist by Peter Fenton. Fenton was a math student until he turned into a carnival con artist. How many bananas he stole from the monkeys? How many bales of potatoes from the elephants? Read this book to find out. Inconvenient People: Lunacy, Liberty and the Mad-Doctors in Victorian England by Sarah Wise. If you have any annoying friends who romanticize the Victorian era and say that they would have liked to live there, tell them to read this book and get back to you after that. The Man in the Rockefeller Suit: The Astonishing Rise and Spectacular Fall of a Serial Impostor by Mark Seal. This is the true story of one of the greatest impostors of all time. The man could have impersonated a chihuahua if he wanted to. The Man Who Sold the Eiffel Tower by James Francis Johnson. Viktor Lustig sold the Eiffel Tower not once, but twice. I still have the relevant papers that my great grandfather left us. Im going to shift it to Nauru or Detroit. The Mark Inside: A Perfect Swindle, a Cunning Revenge, and a Small History of the Big Con by Amy Reading. This is a revenge story of a man who sets out to con the conmen who conned him twice. Unfortunately, the book could have been written better, but it is still worth having a look at. Playing Dead: A Journey Through the World of Death Fraud by Elizabeth Greenwood. I once tried playing dead in a meeting when asked about the progress on my project. But there are people who fake their death for lesser gains, such as insurance fraud and debt fraud. Author Elizabeth Greenwood journeys into the dark world of death fraud to find out more. Ponzis Scheme: The True Story of a Financial Legend by Mitchell Zuckoff. Charles Ponzi was so successful in duping people that we have immortalized his name by terming such swindles after him. At one point, he was raking in 2 millions a week. How many weeks would it take you to earn 2 million dollars at your current income? sorry, that got heavy fast. It hurt me too. A Rum Affair: A True Story of Botanical Fraud by Karl Sabbagh. One botanist claimed that some species of plants on the islands south of Scotland survived the last Ice Age. Another botanist doubted him. This might not sound like a big fraud if you are not into plants, but believe me when I say that the 2 botanists who just read this threw their phones away in disgust and disbelief. Starvation Heights: A True Story of Murder and Malice in the Woods of the Pacific Northwest by Gregg Olsen. A quack doctor named Linda Hazard developed a technique called “fasting treatment”. The story focuses on two sisters who fell for the quacks assurances that they would be cured of all the diseases - real or imagined. This book is quite infuriating to read. Hazard was a despicable human being. Swindled: From Poison Sweets to Counterfeit Coffee – The Dark History of the Food Cheats by Bee Wilson. Wilson looks from ancient Rome to current times for food frauds. And she finds them aplenty (companion read - while having a nice snack. A Treasury of Deception: Liars, Misleaders, Hoodwinkers, and the Extraordinary True Stories of Historys Greatest Hoaxes, Fakes and Frauds by Michael Farquhar. This is a good bathroom book about fakers through history. The Woman Who Wasnt There: The True Story of an Incredible Deception by Robin Gaby Fisher, Angelo J. Guglielmo Jr. Have you heard about Tania Head? If you havent, I urge you to skip this book. Tania Head duped survivors of 9/11 and the whole world alike into believing that she was one of the survivors from the South Tower of World Trade Center. I feel enraged just by typing this. So just read this book if you want to know more about her. There are a couple of documentaries out there too. HACKERS. The Cuckoos Egg: Tracking a Spy Through the Maze of Computer Espionage by Clifford Stoll. Long before internet became a place for cat memes, Cliff Stoll was working at a research lab as a systems manager. One day he found 75 cents of accounting error. This made him alert that an unauthorized person was logging into the system. Thus began his lone effort of tracking down the spy. Exploding the Phone: The Untold Story of the Teenagers and Outlaws Who Hacked Ma Bell by Phil Lapsley. Before there was internet, or even personal computers, mobsters and teenagers hacked the telephone system. Ghost in the Wires: My Adventures as the Worlds Most Wanted Hacker by Kevin D. Mitnick, William L. Simon. The book tells the story of one of the best hackers of all times, Kevin Mitnick, and his cat and mouse game with the FBI. The Spider Network: The Wild Story of a Math Genius, a Gang of Backstabbing Bankers, and One of the Greatest Scams in Financial History by David Enrich. A group of bankers manipulated daily interest rates just a fraction here and there on loans worth trillions of dollars and made some serious cash for themselves. This book also rocks one of the ugliest book covers of 2017. MUTINEERS, PIRATES, OUTLAWS. Batavias Graveyard: The True Story of the Mad Heretic Who Led Historys Bloodiest Mutiny by Mike Dash. I was torn whether to include this book in the list as the history of Batavias mutiny is littered with corpses. But as the focus is on the mutiny, I am going to keep it here. This event could give the Medusas raft a run for its money. The Floating Brothel: The Extraordinary True Story of an Eighteenth-Century Ship and its Cargo of Female Convicts by Sian Rees. Poor girls in England, most of who were petty thieves, were given a chance to sail to Botany Bay in Australia to create a new life for themselves and the male population of New South Wales. But the real story happened at the sea on board the ship Lady Julian. The Last Outlaws: The Lives and Legends of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid by Thom Hatch. Butch: What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful. Guard: People kept robbing it. Butch: Small price to pay for beauty. The book might not be full of memorable dialogues as the movie, but if you want to know more about the legendary outlaws, give this book a chance. Lost Paradise: From Mutiny on the Bounty to a Modern-Day Legacy of Sexual Mayhem, the Dark Secrets of Pitcairn Island Revealed by Kathy Marks. Mutiny of the Bounty is perhaps the most infamous of mutinies that occurred at sea. Even after the event and hundreds of years later, the descendants of Fletcher Christian and his sailors continue to live a crime-filled life like their forefathers on Pitcairn Island. The Pirate Hunter: The True Story of Captain Kidd by Richard Zacks. This book will change your perception of Captain Kidd, thats for sure. To Hell on a Fast Horse: Billy the Kid, Pat Garrett, and the Epic Chase to Justice in the Old West by Mark Lee Gardner. This non-fiction book concentrates on Sheriff Pat Garretts chase in pursuit of the bandit Billy the Kid. If you like reading westerns, this one and The Last Outlaws are not to be missed. Under the Black Flag: The Romance and the Reality of Life Among the Pirates by David Cordingly. Cordingly takes a look at life among the pirates. Some of your romanticism would be squashed, but there were some good things about being a pirate too. Life among the pirates was neither black nor white; it was beige. POLITICAL CRIMES Arms and the Dudes: How Three Stoners from Miami Beach Became the Most Unlikely Gunrunners in History by Guy Lawson. Three kids won a 300 million dollar contract – legitimately – I must add, to supply ammunition to the Afghanistan military. They had no money, but still they almost pulled it off. I dont know, read this book, and if youre a US citizen, visit the websites mentioned in the book, see if they are still doing business the same way, and if you want, you can become a supplier to the army too. Dont forget to send me my cut (the movie War Dogs was trash. The Brother: The Untold Story of Atomic Spy David Greenglass and How He Sent His Sister, Ethel Rosenberg, to the Electric Chair by Sam Roberts. Even if youre not a United Statian of American (USians. chances are you might have read at least something about the execution of the Rosenberg couple as spies. This is probably the best book about the subject. Curveball: Spies, Lies, and the Man Behind Them: How America Went to War in Iraq by Bob Drogin. How many weapons of mass destruction were found in Iraq? If your answer is “whats that? ” then congratulations, youre not unlike one of your former presidents. Who told the USians that there were WMDs with Saddam? Curveball. The Confessions of an Economic Hitman by John Perkins. Perkins was an economic hitman, who at the instruction of US intelligence agencies and giant corporations cajoled and blackmailed other country leaders to serve US foreign policy and award lucrative contracts to American businesses (now that job has been transferred to the White House. A Kim Jong – Il Production: The Extraordinary True Story of a Kidnapped Filmmaker, His Star Actress, and a Young Dictators Rise to Power by Paul Fischer. Say you want to make a big movie for your country. But there is no one in your country who can handle such an ambitious project. What do you do? Hire some talent from other country? But youre Kim Jong – Il. Oh. Then you just kidnap them, and force them to make the glorious movie of yours. Read this book. Its pretty absurd (the movie they eventually made for Kim was utter shit. The Room would look like Gone with the Wind compared to that abomination. The Nuclear Jihadist: The True Story of the Man Who Sold the Worlds Most Dangerous Secrets… And How We Could Have Stopped Him by Douglas Frantz, Catherine Collins. One day a man Abdul Qadeer Khan caught a plane to Pakistan from Europe. With him he had blueprints of the mechanism that could prepare weapons grade Uranium that he had stolen from the lab he worked at in the last 3 years. He would make the first atomic bomb for Pakistan with that information. Then he sold the tech to stable countries like Iran, North Korea and Libya. How can someone get away with stealing such powerful information? Read this book to find out. Operation Paperclip: The Secret Intelligence Program that Brought Nazi Scientists to America by Annie Jacobsen. This is a pretty controversial topic that has only gained wider acknowledgement in recent decades. Read this book to know in detail how bogus the claims of justice being served to the perpetrators of the Holocaust were. Basically, if you were a scientist, you were very likely to be acquitted from any War Crimes allegations. The Real Odessa: How Peron Brought the Nazi War Criminals to Argentina by Uki Goni. How did most of the Nazis who managed to escape from Germany ended up in South America? Read about the collusion of various entities and institutions that made it possible in this book. The Spy Who Couldnt Spell: A Dyslexic Traitor, an Unbreakable Code, and the FBIs Hunt for Americas Stolen Secrets by Yudhijit Bhattacharjee. This is the true story of a mole in FBI, how he attempted to sell classified information and how FBI tried to track him down. ROBBERIES, HEISTS. Ballad of the Whiskey Robber: A True Story of Bank Heists, Ice Hockey, Transylvanian Pelt Smuggling, Moonlighting Detectives, and Broken Hearts by Julian Rubinstein. If there is one thief in this list that I admire, it is without a doubt, Attila Ambrus. Ambrus was known as a gentleman thief, who would ask – no, request - the teller to fill his bag with money. If you read this book, it would be hard for you to dislike Attila even though he was a thief. Confessions of a Master Jewel Thief by Bill Mason, Lee Gruenfeld. Bill Mason looted many famous personalities in his long career as a jewel thief. In this book he tells how he did it. The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century by Kirk W. Johnson. Do you know there are people whose hobby is fly tying? The feathery thing that you attach to the hook to catch fish? But these are not your average fly tiers. They use feathers from exotic birds to create different ties whose total cost could run in thousands of dollars. Moreover, many of the most coveted birds are either protected or extinct. So one night a man named Edwin Rist broke into Tring museum and took hundreds of bird skins, some that belonged to Darwin, to fuel his hobby and even getting rich by selling precious feathers to other tiers. Dont miss this book. Finders Keepers: The Story of a Man Who Found 1 Million by Mark Bowden. Who hasnt dreamt of finding a big bag of money? It couldnt have happened to a more clueless person. Joey Coyle, to be exact. Flawless: Inside the Largest Diamond Heist in History by Scott Andrew Selby. The theft from Antwerp that still raises many questions. Go Down Together: The True, Untold Story of Bonnie and Clyde by Jeff Guinn. The truth is not that romantic. The Great Pearl Heist: Londons Greatest Thief and Scotland Yards Hunt for the Worlds Most Valuable Necklace by Molly Caldwell Crosby. Pearls, more valuable than the Hope Diamond, are stolen by thieves in Edwardian London. The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton. My favorite Crichton book. Stealing gold from a running train! Watch the movie too that stars the great Sean Connery. Heist: The Oddball Crew Behind the 17 Million Loomis Fargo Theft by Jeff Diamant. How hard is it to steal 17 million dollars? As far as these thieves were concerned, not much. Getting away with it was another thing altogether. The movie was pretty average, I think. Into the Blast: The True Story of DB Cooper by Skipp Porteous, Robert Blevins. Is Tommy Wiseau DB Cooper? If only that was true. Read the book but dont expect any clear-cut answers (I think most people would agree that the clumsy bastard died after he jumped from the plane. A Pickpockets Tale: The Underworld of Nineteenth-Century New York by Timothy J. Gilfoyle. True story of George Appo, a pickpocket living in nineteenth-century New York. Sex on the Moon: The Amazing Story Behind the Most Audacious Heist in History by Ben Mezrich. A guy steals moon rocks from NASA and then had sex on them with his girlfriend (how the hell is that comfortable. The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit by Michael Finkel. The last hermit was not a hermit in true sense. He didnt rely on land to feed himself. He stole from the nearby community. Before someone says I have spoiled the book for them, it is revealed in the first chapter that he is a thief. WHITE COLLAR CRIMES. Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup by John Carreyrou. The Steve Jobs impersonator, Elizabeth Holmes, CEO of Theranos, and her old boyfriend, Sunny, are some of the most vile people that I have come across while reading about corporate crime. This is one of the best books that I have read this year. Den of Thieves by James B. Stewart. This is probably the most famous book written about those Wall Street scoundrels. Empire of Deception: The Incredible Story of a Master Swindler Who Seduced a City and Captivated the Nation by Dean Jobb. The story of Leo Koretz, who created one of the longest running Ponzi schemes in the 1920s Chicago. The Informant by Kurt Eichenwald. Mark Whitacre becomes an FBI informant against his own corporation. But as time goes by, the FBI starts to realize that Mark is not as truthful as he seems to be, and he has his own agenda (they made a movie with Matt Damon. Octopus: Sam Israel, the Secret Market, and Wall Streets Wildest Con by Guy Lawson. Sam Israels hedge fund was making heavy losses. So naturally, he fabricated fake returns to fool the investors. Then he heard about a secret market from where he could convert his millions into billions. Thats how he lost the last 150 million dollars of his invertors money. Red Notice: A True Story of High Finance, Murder, and One Mans Fight for Justice by Bill Browder. Only thing you are going to learn from this book is dont do business in Russia. The Smartest Guys in the Room: The Amazing Rise and Scandalous Fall of Enron by Bethany McLean, Peter Elkind. Bethany McLean asked one simple question in her article when everyone else was going gaga over Enron. “What does Enron actually do? ” Nobody knew. Even Enron couldnt give a specific answer. They were not just committing accounting fraud; they were looting ordinary people by creating fake shortage of electricity and driving the prices high. The documentary is worth watching too. Stung: The Incredible Obsession of Brian Molony by Gary Stephen Ross. The guy Molony debited huge amounts of money from the bank he worked at to feed his gambling addiction. Oh, and he took the money in other peoples name who held huge accounts there. This is one of the best true-crime books that I have ever read. Three Cups of Deceit: How Greg Mortenson, Humanitarian Hero, Lost His Way by Jon Krakauer. You know the man who builds schools in remote regions of Afghanistan and Pakistan? Great guy, right? Krakauer doesnt think so. And hell tell you why in this short book. The Wizard of Lies: Bernie Madoff and the Death of Trust by Diana B. Henriques. 65 billion dollars. Thats the amount that Madoff swindled from people through decades of fraud. I think I can buy a small island country with this much money. The idiot is in jail though. I dont know, maybe after a couple of billion, skip to a country with no extradition treaty and live the rest of your life without the fear of being getting caught? But then, these types of people dont know when to stop. OTHER. American Roulette: How I Turned the Odds Upside Down. My Wild Twenty-Five-Year Ride Ripping Off Worlds Casinos by Richard Marcus. The guy ripped-off casinos all over the world by stealing gaming chips while maintaining an illusion of a highroller to lend his eventual take required legitimacy. Breaking the Rock: The Great Escape from Alcatraz by Jolene Babyak. Written by the daughter of a guard at Alcatraz, this book tells the story of the infamous escape from the prison island. Dont forget to watch the classic movie too. Bringing Down the House: The Inside Story of Six MIT Students Who Took Vegas for Millions by Ben Mezrich. The movie 21 was based on this book. But if you want to know the real story, without the whitewashing, you have no choice but to read this book. Disposable People: New Slavery in the Global Economy by Kevin Bales. Kevin Bales estimates that there are 27 million people worldwide who live as slaves, right now. And yes, slavery still exists in United States of America in case you were wondering. This is a depressing book. Fish: A Memoir of a Boy in a Mans Prison by T. J. Parsell. Rape in prison is absolutely overlooked almost everywhere. Read this book if you can endure reading about helplessness page after page. Hotel K: The Shocking Inside Story of Balis Most Notorious Jail by Kathryn Bonella. Prison systems in developing world differ from the developed one in one regard that the guards and officials there are more corrupt and hence are likely to look the other way when something bad is going down amongst the inmates. Kerobokan Jail in Bali is one of the worst among those. The Hot House: Life Inside Leavenworth Prison by Pete Earley. The author interviewed inmates from Leavenworth Prison for two years. The book is the result of that labor. The Laundrymen: Inside the Worlds Third Largest Business by Jeffrey Robinson. I have a perfect idea to launder money. Laser Tag! Robinson looks at the third largest business in the world. The book was published a while ago, but still hasnt lost most of its relevancy. Missoula: Rape and the Justice System in a College Town by Jon Krakauer. Jon releases the Krakauer on one of the most relevant subjects of today. Rapes in colleges. These institutes would do anything to sweep things under the rug to maintain the illusion of clean image in the public eye. Newjack: Guarding Sing Sing by Ted Conover. The author worked as a prison guard for a year at one of the most notorious prisons of the United States. This book is about his experience.

[I started blogging about the ghost girl last week, but nobody ever reads my blog, so I cut and pasted all my posts so far. Day 2, Monday the 9th You didn't miss Day 1. I did, at least if the week starts on Sunday. I missed yesterday; I bitched up today. I'm trying again tomorrow. I've got five more chances. It's a local urban legend, about a girl who jumped her car over a hill. If you can do the same thing. the same way. she appears and gives you some sort of magical power. But you have to do it at exactly the right time of day, when the sun is shining straight down a certain street. I think that's what first really got my attention. How many ghost stories do you know that happen in the middle of the day? What kind of ghost appears in sunlight? You probably read "jump a car" and picture me as some shaved-head guy with power-lifting muscles, Vin Diesel in an old Dodge Charger. I'm an Arkansas Tech sophomore, a girl, five-six and a half, a hundred and twenty-eight pounds, and I drive a rusty old white Corolla that my mom drove in high school, already used. There's a billion versions of the legend, but they all start with this girl at Arkansas Tech, a freshman, just started her first fall semester. She was trying to impress a guy she wanted to date. She did this freak thing with her car, and got him to ask her out. But then there was some Twilight Zone twist, and she got killed. Some versions say he died, too. So the legend says if you can jump your car the same way, her ghost gives you a special power to use one time. But you have to do it the same time of the month the ghost girl did it, the second week of September (one girl told me the third week. and when the sun is shining right down the center of the street. right in your eyes, in other words. It's scary, but I bet I can do it. It happened on a steep street up on Crow Mountain. The street goes up a hill, then turns down so suddenly that for a couple of seconds you can't see the road, just empty space in front of you. You feel like you're about to drive right off a cliff. You have to floor it up the hill, and keep it floored when you get to the top, so your car flies right off the ground, like a cop in a movie. And land without wrecking. that's the real trick. And you've got to drive right up the center line of the street, and the sun has to be right straight in front of you, right over the center line. (You've got a couple of minutes slop either way. And it's okay to wear sunglasses. I didn't hear about the legend my freshman September. I heard about it last spring, and kept asking people until I had all these different versions, and now it's finally September. time I can do something about it. Back in spring, I drove over that hill just to look. The first time, a guy took me up there and made me squeal going over the top. Then I drove it myself, and even going slow it's hard not to panic and hit the brake; you're pretty high up, and the road absolutely disappears in front of you. It's fun to take someone new up that hill; I made my boyfriend scream like a little bitch. (I broke up with him. But I've had to wait until September to actually try the legend. And I had to find someone to ride along. another part of nearly every version says you have to have a passenger in the car. (Not somebody you want to go out with; just a random person. And only the driver gets any special power. My roommate this year I don't like much; Joann's kind of whiny and spoiled. But Chayce, that I met last year, one of the people who told me about the girl's legend, agreed to ride with me. she wanted to see a ghost, even if I got the reward. The street runs almost directly south, so at first I thought I'd have to drive up right at noon. But my phone's compass said the sun was still southeast at noon. Duh! With Daylight Savings Time, at noon the sun still thinks it's eleven o'clock! I decided we'd better scout the hill. I didn't want to wait at the bottom of the hill for the sun to line up. People that live on that street know the legend, and so do the Russellville cops, so anybody who stops to wait at the bottom gets the cops called on them. So last week we drove by, and then drove by again, until we saw the sun lined up, just a few minutes before one o'clock. Chayce and I were ready yesterday, the first day of the week, but in the middle of the day it was pouring rain; like my dad says, it rained like billy-hell. You have to be able to see the sun. I couldn't even see the top of the hill from the bottom. Today we went out again. I drove by a couple of times, letting the sun line up. (There's no painted line, but there's a big seam in the concrete. it's a really old street, from like in the sixties. And when it was just right, I started up the street, and halfway up I floored the gas. But I couldn't see where I was going for the sun, and I chickened out. I didn't hit the brake, but I let off the gas just before we got to the top. Chayce was pissed at first, but after a little while she told me that just before we got to the top she nearly peed herself. If you haven't been over a hill like that, it's hard to believe just how scary it is. Worse than going over the top of a roller coaster. in a coaster you at least know you're on a track, not steering yourself. We're going to try again tomorrow. I want to meet the ghost girl. Day 3, Tuesday the 10th I nearly killed myself today, and Chayce too. and she's mad because she thinks I did it on purpose. No, I just screwed up. But I know I'm trying to do it right. Other than the girl being a freshman chasing a boy, the one thing all the versions have the same is exactly how and when I have to make the jump. That's lucky, because everything else is all over the place. Some say she was a Russellville girl, living at home; some say she lived on campus. (This was way back when all the women's dorms were on one side of Tech and all the guys' dorms were way over on the other side. These days all the dorms are co-ed. Some say the girl was killed back in the seventies, some say the eighties. Different legends say the boy killed her, or he died with her, or he lived. One version says the guy slept with her and dumped her, so she'll give you the power to have anyone you want for one night. One version says the guy slept with her and then killed her (usually strangled her) so for revenge she'll either make you able to call a lightning bolt one time, to strike whoever you want, or you can call her back to scare someone who dumped you. Another version says she'll let you predict the future one time, because the very first time she kissed the guy a lightning bolt struck her and killed them both. I've heard even stranger versions. So the only place the legends agree is that I've got to jump my car. After I chickened out Monday I went to Walmart and bought really dark sunglasses. This afternoon we cruised by a couple of times, waiting for the sun, then I decided it was time and made my turn. I punched the gas, and we went screaming up the hill, my transmission sounding like it's having a baby. We're nearly to the top, and past the top of the hill there's a bird in the sky. I have about a tenth of a second to think, wait, it's not flying, and another tenth of a second to think, what's it sitting on? And then I'm stomping the brake, and all four tires are squealing, and the car's skidding sideways, and Chayce and I are both screaming, and we come to a stop with one rear tire hanging in space because I turned up the wrong fucking hill. this street ends right at the top, just stops, in an eight-foot drop onto a bunch of rocks. No curb, no yellow and black stripey signs, no rail, nothing. Insane. The bird, a big hawk, was sitting on this spindly little tree growing out of the rocks. If that hawk hadn't been there, I wouldn't have seen the dropoff until it was too late to stop, and we'd have gone right over on the rocks. If I'd turned around right then, I might could've driven onto the right street while the sun was still lined up. it's just one block over. But I just sat there shaking and listening to Chayce crying and saying she hates me. Chayce thinks I did it on purpose just to scare her. She's pissed, and she won't ride with me again tomorrow. I'll have to find somebody else. Day 4, Wednesday the 11th Maybe the legend's bullshit. Maybe I did something wrong. I talked to a girl named Bethany from my Spanish class, and convinced her to ride with me. She's heard a couple of versions of the legend, ones where the girl and the boy were both killed. One of them I hadn't heard before, nothing even close. Seems when the guy watched the girl make the jump, he was so blown away by how far she jumped her car that he wanted her to do it again. and this time he was going to lie in the street while she jumped over him! Sounds completely crazy stupid, but a lot of people I know are like that. (You probably think I'm pretty crazy-stupid myself, jumping hills to see a ghost. He'd seen where her car left the ground, and where it landed, and he laid down crosswise of the street right in between. And she came roaring up the hill, and right at the top one of her tires blew out, and she jumped. and landed splat on top of him. He squashed all over the road, and she rolled about nine times and went through her windshield. Bethany said they both had their heads torn clean off. So I always wear my seat belt. Today I made damn sure I turned onto the right hill. (The one I turned up Tuesday looks a lot like the right one, but there are these big DEAD END signs that I must have just driven right past. Stupid. Not crazy-stupid; plain dumbass. Everything lined up perfectly, and I floored it up the hill. We were just like Thelma and Louise, except both of us screamed, and we didn't kiss, but I kept the gas down until I felt us lift off. My belly shot right up to the roof of my mouth, and I heard a big clunk-clunk from my front and rear wheels. I thought for a minute I was going to wipe out on the downhill side. it's even steeper than the uphill. but I kept us straight. There's this stop sign, a T intersection, at the bottom of the hill, and I barely managed to stop before we ran it. But nothing happened. I went right up the center line, I lifted right out of my seat. without a seat belt I'd have hit the steering wheel. and the sun was right on the line, perfect. Bethany said maybe I went over the hill the wrong way, but all the legends say you have to drive straight at the sun, not away from it. And nearly all the legends say you should see the ghost girl right away, there in the sunshine. Maybe I wasn't going fast enough. Or maybe that other girl Lisa was right, that said the girl jumped the hill in the third week of September. I'm going to ask Kasey to come watch, to tell me if I really get off the ground. Later Tonight in the library, I heard the most gruesome version of the legend yet. In this one, the girl didn't know it, but when she jumped her car she came down on a little kid, just one or two years old, and crushed her skull, brains all over the street. The jumper girl never knew the kid was there. She got a date with the guy she liked, and they went to a parking spot to screw in her back seat, and the baby girl's father found them and killed them both with an axe. The jumper girl had a convertible; he didn't even have to open a door. After hearing that, I really want to have Kasey watching at the hilltop, to wave me Stop! if there's people on the downhill side. Day 5, Thursday the 12th My car's a complete POS. I'm so mad I could bite Joann. Kasey bailed on me; she's got some drug court thing and she's scared of getting in worse with the cops. So Bethany found this guy named Bran to ride along. I drove up the street once, a little early. scared the crap out of him, he hadn't seen that hill before. then dropped him right at the top. Then Bethany and I drove around to the uphill side, and I drove past a couple of times waiting for the sun. Then it was in line, and I floored my car all the way up. I was going over sixty when I hit the top of the hill. Bran says my wheels left the ground, just barely. But he says my front wheels came off the ground, and then slammed back down. just before my back wheels came free. I never had all four wheels in the air at once. People say a Toyota will run forever. Well, so will a zombie. But it keeps getting uglier, and slower, and smellier, and more pieces keep falling off. My car's a little bitty four-banger Corolla, about ninety years old, and I don't know how many times the odometer's rolled over. It's way way into the zombie stage of life. I couldn't make it run up that hill any faster if I took the seats out and tied Santa's reindeer to it. It's a worn-out pile of shit, and I hate it, and I'll never jump that hill driving it. I want to see that fucking ghost girl. I'm starting to feel like she owes me. Day 6, Friday the 13th Jesus Fucking Christ with mustard, I am in so much trouble. I could go to jail. I'm so scared, I'm crying as I try to type. It's almost enough to make me believe in Friday the 13th. I don't know whatall they can throw at me. at least I didn't murder any little kids. Or Bran, or Bethany. Bran must be keeping his mouth shut so far, because I'm not arrested or anything. But can the cops make him talk? He's got to be an accomplice, or an accessory, or aiding and abetting. one of those a-things. Yesterday I thought it was over. My Toyota is hopeless. But Bran asked why I was trying to jump the hill. he'd never heard the jumper girl urban legend. I told him the story, and how my car was too old and burned-out, and he offered to let me use his car. He said it was fast. He didn't want to ride along. he looked straight at me and said, Ghosts scare me. So I told him Bethany needed to come along, and he said we'd have to bring my car, because his only has two seats. He wouldn't let me drive his car around town. just over the hill. I told him what time to meet me there. So I picked up Bethany, drove to the hill, and parked halfway down the downhill side. He drove up in this absolutely gorgeous mint-green car, stopped past me and got out, and walked up the hill to watch my jump. Bethany and I got into his car and drove on down the hill. It was a Cadillac XLR convertible. I didn't even know Cadillac built sports cars. It had rims bigger around than my Corolla's whole tires. Even closed, that convertible top gave me the jeebees, remembering the legend where the girl's killed with an ax. It was way away the fanciest car I've ever been in. and driving it scared the crap out of me. I felt like somebody handed me a Ming vase worth a billion dollars and told me not to even sweat on it. I drove maybe ten miles an hour around to the uphill side; I was nearly too late to catch the sun lined up. He really should have let me try it out. I had no idea what a big motor it had, what a completely badass car it was. it was a freaking Cadillac, an old-folks car, not a Porsche or a Corvette. I got to the bottom of the hill, saw Bran wave an all-clear, and stomped down the gas. I heard tires squalling, and the top of the hill jumped at me, and I was over it. just that fast. I didn't think to let off the gas, even when I heard the engine racing because the wheels were off the ground. I looked out my side window, and there was Bran, below me, and he's got to be six feet tall. I looked ahead, and there was the downhill road standing up in front of me like a wall. That Cadillac came down on its front end, and the air bags went off, and everything outside the windows spun sideways. We spun off the road, ass-first into somebody's pickup truck. It sounded like a house fell on us. Bran came running down the hill. Bethany was shrieking. I pushed the air bag to the side and unbuckled my seat belt and pushed on the door and nothing happened. But the windows were gone, so I just climbed out. Bran was getting Bethany out the other side. The front and back of his car looked like somebody stomped a Mountain Dew can, but neither one of us was hurt. that car saved our lives. I was shaking, and Bran was raving about his car, and a woman was coming out of the house behind the pickup. I grabbed Bethany's arm and dragged her up to my car. we'd gone nearly to the bottom of the hill. and threw her in. I peeled out backward, up the hill away from the yelling woman. I was shaking so badly I nearly hit another parked car. and left Bran there with his totaled Caddy and this screaming woman and her totaled pickup. Bethany yelled at me all the way back to Tech, and swore she'd never speak to me again. I told her if she talks, she'll be in trouble for leaving the scene, too. And she'll be an accessory to whatever I get charged with. I dropped her at her dorm and drove off, still shaking. She promised not to tell anybody, but I bet she told her roommate inside of five minutes. So I totaled a car that probably cost a quarter million, and I left the scene of an accident, and I left Bran up shit creek. I jumped a car over the hill, and the sun was lined up, but since I wrecked, I don't get to see the girl's ghost. Now I'm just sitting here waiting for the cops to show up. And crying on my laptop. Later The only good thing is, I'm not going to jail, at least not this time. Nobody's going to jail. Bethany didn't tell me before, but it turns out Bran's family has more money than God, and even the lady with the pickup says he wasn't driving, so the cops won't touch him. He called this evening, made me come downstairs to talk to him. He had to talk to me face to face, nothing by phone or text for the cops to find. He's told the cops a completely BS story, and pretty much dared them to call him a liar. "I met a cute girl. She wanted to try out my car, and I thought she was really cute, so I said okay. She said there was a hill she always wanted to race up. So I followed her out to it, and let her drive, and she wrecked my car. Then she ran off, and I never even found out her name. I'd have chased her, but I knew I wasn't supposed to leave an accident. If you catch her, throw her ass in jail for me. So Bran plays the spoiled rich idiot, and the cops yell at him for being stupid about a girl, but they have to let him go. And his family pays for the lady's pickup truck. The pickup lady saw me getting out the driver's side, but I guess her truck blocked her from seeing Bethany. Then Bran was there, and she was yelling at him while I dragged Bethany off up the hill. She never knew there were two girls. Bran told the cops that the "cute girl" drove some kind of little Ford. He had to say it was white, because the pickup lady saw that much, but there are a million white cars in Russellville. So I'm in the clear, as long as Bethany keeps her mouth shut. Bran says his insurance will pay for the car and the truck, but if I ever come near him he'll "recognize" me and tell the cops. So I've only got my little slow-ass rust box, and nobody to ride with me. This ghost girl is costing me too many friends. Day 7, Saturday the 14th It's over. There's no way I'm ever going to jump that hill; there's no way I'm ever going to meet the ghost girl. I think I'm a little obsessed; I was thinking a little while ago about stealing a car to jump. I've been trying to think of a way I could make a ramp, to force my stupid Toyota to jump. At breakfast I met a girl named Shanmay, who knew another version of the dead girl's legend. This one has the girl strangled by her new boyfriend, like some of the others; what's different is that a guy back in the nineties actually jumped the hill in a Trans Am, and got to see the ghost girl. Before she'd give him whatever power he'd get, he had to spend the night in bed with her. She came to his apartment. his roommate freaked and ran away. and stayed all night. In the morning the roommate came back and found him in his bed, dead. The bedroom smelled like dead things, and the owner couldn't get the stink out. They walled off the whole room, made that apartment one-bedroom. I drove by the street before lunch; there's a Russellville cop car parked there, right at the top of the hill. you can see him from both ends of the street. They can't keep a cop there all the time, but he only has to be there for a little while in the middle of the day. and only today and maybe tomorrow, then the week's over. Day 8, Sunday the 15th... Day 7, depending on when you figure the week starts. Or the third week of September, Day 1, maybe. Tonight Lisa, one of the girls who first told me the legend last spring, sat down beside me in McDonalds. "I heard what you did to Bran's Mercedes. she said, low-voiced, leaning over. I almost blurted out, It's a Cadillac. which would have been admitting I knew what she meant. But I managed to just look confused. "Everybody knows about it. Lisa said. "Everybody thinks it's wild, how you wrecked his car and someone's truck and got away with it. A lot of people are laughing at him, but they also think it's cool how he covered for you. And his folks'll buy him ten more cars like that, if he wants. I've met them; they spoil him rotten. I was not happy to be talking to her about this. If this random-ass girl I hardly know has heard about me wrecking Bran's car, how many other people know? How long before somebody mentions me to the cops? A hit-and-run accident probably qualifies for one of those Crime Stoppers rewards, even if nobody got hurt. "Assuming I even knew what you're talking about. I said, so what. So I know what you were trying to do. You gonna to try again. The week's over. I said. then I remembered what Lisa'd said before. She said it again. "Most people have it all wrong. See, like I told you, it's really the third week of September that's important. I told her about the cop parked on the hill. "He'll have to stay another week. she said, and he won't; the cops all believe the second-week story, too. He'll be gone tomorrow, and then you can do it. Anyway, it wouldn't have worked the day you wrecked; you have to jump in the third week of September. You're the only one who thinks so. But she did think so, and she had reason: Her uncle had gone to Arkansas Tech in the nineties, and told her he actually knew the guy in the Trans Am. He really tried to sleep with the ghost girl, and she scared him to death (or froze him or maybe screwed him to death. But Lisa's uncle insisted it happened in the third week, not the second. So I started to get my hopes up a little, and then it hit me: Jesus Christ, I'd have to sleep with her. Lisa leaned close, a little too close. "I'd stay with you. I looked at her, and she just barely licked her lips. I've done it before. me and a girl in high school had a mad crush for about a month, until her parents broke it up. but something about Lisa said sex vampire. I got sort of hot and sort of sick at the same time. It's weird hearing the Trans Am story from Shanmay yesterday, and then again from Lisa today. It's almost like I was supposed to hear it, and that creeps me out. My car's still a POS, but if Lisa's right, I've got six more days to find someone with a better car. I still want to meet the ghost girl, even if I have to let her touch me. even if I have to let Lisa touch me. Does that make me a whore? Day 9, Monday the 16th Bran, whose Cadillac I wiped out, caught me outside Class Piano this morning. (I don't know how he found out my schedule; it's a little creepy. He told me the lady with the wrecked pickup had been paid off, and had signed a paper, a release, saying she wouldn't sue or press charges against anyone in the accident. "Why would she do that. I asked. "Because my parents offered her a lot of money. He told his parents part of what happened. mainly that he knew in advance what I was going to do, so he could probably be charged with something, even though he wasn't actually driving. Which is why he lied to the cops. not to protect me. He said the pickup lady knew all about the ghost girl legend. She hadn't lived on that hill when the girl died, she told Bran, but she'd been there when the guy in the Trans Am jumped. she didn't hear the part Shanmay told me about him dying later. She said there's always kids racing up that hill; she didn't let her kids play in the front yard when they were little. The racers mostly chicken out at the top, like I did the first time, but there've been cops on that hill in other years. People on that street have asked Russellville to put in speed bumps, so anybody trying to jump will wreck their suspension. After my wreck, she's going to start another petition. Bran was careful again, not to say anything in a phone call or a text. I wish Bethany had as much sense. She didn't say much, just sent, need talk wreck. But if the cops get really suspicious, that's plenty. I told her I'd meet her in her dorm lobby. She just sent back, u better. She was still angry at me. "This guy came to see me. she said, said he was a cop. He said he'd heard I knew something about the wreck. If I hadn't just finished smoking a joint, I'd have had a heart attack. Shit, I'd have had a heart attack anyway. standing there smelling like pot. He came to my room; it's always reeking with those candles Sharon uses. They stink up everything. It's true; sometimes you can smell those candles on her. She said, But I was mellowed out, so I didn't freak. I said I'd heard people talking, that was all. He asked me where was I, Friday, and I told him me and you went to the mall. At first I kind of freaked, because she'd named me, but then I realized people might have seen us in my car. And we really had gone to the mall together, only it was Thursday afternoon, after Bran said I didn't quite get my Toyota off the ground. We hadn't bought anything. there's not a lot to buy, it's a tiny little mall. but we'd shopped around. I told her if the cop came back, she should just tell what we did Thursday; that way we could both talk about the same stores, without sounding like we'd rehearsed anything. I told her she'd been smart. "I know. she said, like I'd insulted her by even having an opinion. "I just wanted to make sure you'd say the same thing. It doesn't really matter, anyway. I told her how the pickup lady had signed a paper saying she wouldn't press charges. "You are so ignorant. she said. "She doesn't have to press charges; a prosecutor can charge you anyway. That's how they put wife-beaters in jail, you know. She stood up; her whole attitude said, Time for you to kindly fuck off. "I don't want to go to jail because of you. I kept having crying fits all Friday night. Sharon nearly called the cops; she thought I'd been raped. So that was my Monday morning, which wasn't done sucking. I drove past the hill, just before lunch, and guess what? Lisa was wrong. there was a Russellville black-and-white parked at the top. At about twelve-fifteen, I was at the Subway, way out on Main, about to order a sandwich, and somebody grabs my arm and drags me back. It was Lisa. I let her drag me away from anybody who could hear. "You still want to jump the hill. In what. I hadn't found anyone who'd let me drive their car. "You can use my Mustang. It's a piece of crap, but it's fast. I said, There's still a cop parked up there. I've got a plan for that. she said, but we have to leave now. It's nearly time. Somebody's gotta watch the other side of the hill. I'm scared of hitting somebody. My roommate's gonna park over there, once I get rid of the cop. Come on. She wouldn't say anything else until I got into her Mustang (another white car; I told you there are a million. Once we were in the car, driving toward I-40, she started calling in a bomb threat to Walmart. three, really. She listed three cars, model and color and license plate, and said there was a bomb in each one of them big enough to take down half a city block. She did it from a cell phone, right in her car, while we were driving on Dike Road. I told her she was crazy, that they can track phones with GPS, but she just laughed and wiped the phone on her jeans and threw it out the window, sailed it right over the bank into Lake Dardanelle. "I stole it. she said. "People don't password their phones, they deserve to get them stolen. She told me, I picked the cars yesterday. The first two, they work at Walmart, they'll be parked out back. The cops'll find them, and they'll keep looking for the third car. It's real, they can check the license and all, but the car's not there. Where's it at. Girl works the lunch rush at Subway. which we'd just left, all the way across town from Walmart. "The cops'll find two cars, and they'll go nuts looking for the third one. They'll put every cop in town in that parking lot, and checking all the side streets. It was actually a clever plan, but she started it a little late. The cop sat on the ghost girl's hill while we drove by, and drove by again. When he suddenly went tearing away toward Weir Road and Walmart, the sun was already just past the line of the street; we were too late for today. I didn't blame her, though; if she'd called much earlier they might have given up and sent him back before we could make the jump. She'd made a really good guess about the timing, but just a little slow. But the phone call, the bomb threats, had been a crazy thing to do. Lisa scares me. She seems to know everybody, but nobody knows much about her. She dated Bran for a while; I want to ask him what he knows about her, but I'm afraid he'll really call the cops. But I think she's crazy. It scares me shitless she was willing to shake up the whole Russellville PD just to give me a shot at that hill. Day 10, Tuesday the 17th Lisa cheated me. That lying miserable bitch cheated me. She drove us to the hill after lunch today, and there wasn't a cop. "Tol'ja so. she said. I just asked if her roommate was around to watch the street while I jumped. But while we were cruising around, windows down, waiting for the sun to line up, here came a Russellville black-and-white. He turned in, stopped right at the top of the hill, his back to the sun. I thought Lisa was going to have a seizure. She drove past again, cussing like a gangsta, and I thought we'd leave. But she drove by one more time, and said, The sun's right in line. Before I knew what she was doing, she turned onto the hill and hit the gas, straight for the parked cop. I guess I know now how Chayce felt a week ago, when I nearly drove off a cliff. I screamed all the way up the hill, and at the top I just covered my face with my arms. not to hide it from the cop, but so I couldn't see the crash. I felt her swerve just a little, and then we were flying. It got completely quiet. she must have let off the gas just as we left the ground. The motor was barely purring, there was no road noise at all, just wind sighing through the car. Then we slammed into the ground, skidded side to side. the wrecked pickup was still sitting in the same yard, and we barely missed it. But Lisa got the Mustang under control, and blew right through the stop sign at the bottom. The cop probably hadn't even started his car yet. I was yelling my head off at her, about we were going to get arrested, she could have killed us, what if there'd been kids playing, was she nuts? She was laughing like a crazy person, and already turning onto the highway back to Tech, driving like nothing was wrong. "What if he got your license. I yelled. "Didn't you see him? He was just sitting there with his mouth open, couldn't believe what he was seeing, couldn't believe I'd rip right past him like that. Why didn't you call your roommate? What if there'd been kids in the street. It's a school day, dumbass! Anyways, I don't have a roommate. You lied to me. I couldn't believe it. I'd seen her call in a bomb threat, drive straight at a cop, jump her car into the air. and I still couldn't believe she'd lied about a roommate. I yelled at her to drop me off at the next light; I'd walk the rest of the way to Tech. I didn't want anybody I knew to see me getting out of her car. I was so scared and pissed off I hadn't realized yet what she'd just done. Then it hit me, just as we crossed the interstate. "You bitch. I screamed. "That was supposed to be my jump! You stole my jump. Then, Did it work? Will she come. Something was pushing away the laughter in her. "It worked. she said, her face getting a little pale. "If you hadn't been so chickenshit, you'd'a seen. You saw her. Shit, I'd missed it! So she's going to talk to you, give you something. Come stay with me tonight. Lisa said. "You can see her too. Maybe she'll give both of us something. No, she won't. just the driver. I'm not coming. She maybe kills people, and if I'm taking a chance on getting killed, I want to be the one getting the prize. Lisa was beginning to sound genuinely scared. I don't think she'd really believed in the ghost girl until now. "Please, stay with me. I'll do anything. I mean. I won't do anything. I pointed to the Chinese place we were passing. "Pull in there. I made her pull around to the side, out of sight; I got out and slammed the door. "Come tonight. she pleaded. I told her to go to hell. She begged me, even started to cry, but if I was going to meet a ghost, I wanted to be the one who called her. I got out and walked six blocks to my dorm. Cheating bitch. Later The cops questioned the guy Lisa stole the phone from. Probably scared the crap out of him, but he was in class when Lisa made the call, so they believe him saying it was stolen. Besides, they must know the caller was female; they've probably guessed by now she was trying to distract the cop on the hill. So he's off the hook, aside from having to get a new phone. But this afternoon more rain came. It's thundering and lightninging like crazy right now, and it's supposed to do it all day tomorrow. Still, Chayce doesn't have a car anyway, so we have to find somebody who'll lend us a faster car. and spot for us, cause I'm still scared of killing somebody. Especially after smashing up that pickup. Day 11, Wednesday the 18th Fucking rain. All fucking day. And I've never seen so much lightning. It's like scary purple sheets across the sky, one after the other. It's freaking me out. A lot of people are saying today that Lisa killed herself, though all anybody really knows is that her body was found this morning. She was lying by the lakeshore railing at one of the parking areas on Dike Road; she'd been lying in the rain all night. The cops aren't saying anything, but somebody on her floor. Lisa didn't have a roommate, remember. said she was crying all evening. She went out at a quarter till midnight and didn't come back; she didn't take her car, didn't even wear a jacket. I think she was running away from the ghost girl. It wasn't real cold last night, but I've read you can die of hypothermia when it's in the sixties, and she was soaking wet all night. Maybe that's what happened, but I'm scared the ghost girl found her. The cops haven't said anything about how she died, except that they don't suspect violence. But what would it look like if a ghost killed her? Nobody I've talked to has said anything about the ghost girl's hill; I don't think anybody but me knows Lisa jumped it yesterday. Maybe the cops do. I mean, maybe they know it was her. but like I said they aren't saying anything. I've got to find somebody with a better car. And this rain has to stop. The forecast says sunny for Friday and Saturday, maybe tomorrow, but that only leaves me two chances, maybe three, and so many things have gone wrong already. I'm almost out of chances. Did the ghost girl bring all this freaking lightning? Update: The last two days.

Since an early age, my parents expended a lot of energy to make sure I believed that regardless of my gender, no one would be able to stand in the way of me achieving my goals. They often told me that working my hardest would be enough to get where I wanted to be and on those rare occasions when my fellow humans stood in the way of my dreams solely because of my gender, my hard work ethic would ensure my ultimate victory over their petty bigotry. Believe it or not, for the most part, their corny affirmations proved to be true. Im sure, because of the time in which we are all living, getting ahead on my own merit has been the norm and Im nothing but pleased this has been the case. Although Ive heard stories and witnessed a few instances where other females have been held back just because of their sex, I, myself have never been a victim of this behavior. At least that was the case, until 6 months ago when I began my new career in security. My work days became one long string of belittling statements and sexual insinuations. Im aware in an earlier time in this country that it was an accepted part of being a female in a profession dominated by men to be treated as a sexual object. However, this is the 21 st century now and I was sure this type of behavior had died out with my grandparents generation, but it appeared as if I had walked back in time to a place where this type of treatment is encouraged. Because of this, I was recently put in a position where I would come face to face with the result of telling this type of man no and just how badly they dislike that word. Having just left a marriage of 4 years, I found myself in a place Id never been before, having to support myself. Even though Id gone to college and received a degree in secondary education, Id married my husband straight out of college. Him being an established doctor made it unnecessary for me to go to work immediately. Wed planned to have a couple of kids and I would stay at home with them until they began school. Then I would start working. While Im sure this may sound a little old fashioned, neither of us wanted strangers raising our children. Unfortunately, we were destined to go childless and this fact quickly destroyed our marriage. Resigned to my fate, I chose a new path and moved forward eager to start a new chapter in my life. My first assignment with the company was at a newly built mall not far from my home. As you may imagine, being a mall cop isnt exactly a great way to make money, but I did it nonetheless. Early on, I thought my biggest problem would be with shoplifters, but it soon became clear my fellow employees would be far worse. A day didnt go by that I wasnt asked out or hit on by one of the other male guards. So soon after getting out of an unhappy relationship, I was in no hurry to jump in to the game again. Over time they all got the hint, all but one, that is. His name was Ethan and despite the countless number of times I shot down his advances, he never seemed to lose hope. Even though he was never aggressive in his advances, I feared his adoration would morph into obsession eventually and that terrified me. After enduring months of his unwanted attention, I finally approached my boss and did not receive the reaction I expected. “You should be happy someone is asking you out. Youre not exactly the prettiest girl. ” I was so shocked that he said this, I turned around and walked out without another word. I obviously wasnt going to get any help from him. Not before long, my greatest fear came true. A car I didnt recognize began showing up across the street from my home. Since I had befriended my neighbors on the first day I moved in, I knew the car was not theirs. Just to make sure I wasnt being paranoid, I went door to door asking my neighbors if they knew who owned the car, but none of them did. About the same time the unknown car showed up across the street, Ethan stopped talking to me at work. Other than asking questions pertaining our job, hed ceased talking to me at all. At the time, I believed it was because our boss had spoken to him but looking back I cant believe I didnt put the two things together, but Im still relatively young, so Ill surely make mistakes. Once Id noticed the car sitting outside more than five times, I went into a rage and ran over to confront the driver. Naturally, they drove away before I could, but I did finally file a complaint with the police. I knew there was nothing they could do, but I at least wanted to start a string of evidence so if I ever did discover the drivers identity, it would be easier to get a restraining order against them. Around the sixth month at my job, Id made the decision to begin dating again. Id run into an old friend of mine from high school that was now a cop in town. Since things at work were beginning to get better, I had no intention of mentioning Ethan and my mystery driver was the last thing on my mind. That night was going so well, I asked my date back to my place for a movie. When we had first pulled into my driveway the coast was clear, but before we had even made it to my front door, the mystery car quickly appeared in its usual place. However, this time the driver jumped from the car and approached us. Of course, it was Ethan but at that time, I was surprised it was him. Right away, I could hear his curses from across the street. “You lyin bitch! I thought you werent interested in dating anyone, but it appears you just thought you were too good for me. ” “Whos this pretty boy? ” By the time hed finished his tirade, he was almost face to face with Jack, my date. This was the most embarrassing situation I could imagine. I just wanted to crawl under a rock, but then the scene took a terrifying turn. Ethan stood within mere feet of us breathing heavily like an angry bull. And he held a gun in his right hand. He continued to stand unmoving, staring and slowly becoming more and more angry. Unsure of what to do or how to act, I looked to Jack for some type of guidance. He proved to be the even headed guy hed always been and did his best to calm Ethan down, but the second he mentioned he was a cop, this made Ethan even angrier. “Oh, I see. I always knew you were a badge bunny, but apparently security guards were never good enough for you! ” I guess seeing no other option, Jack tackled Ethan to the ground and went right for his gun. This was the point in which I was the most scared. Ethan was well over 6 foot and built like a linebacker and Jack was far smaller and lean, but somehow, he managed to get the upper hand. After several minutes of laying a steady ass whipping on Ethan, Jack put the gun in his waist band and stood up. He took a quick walk to his car, watching Ethan the whole time, and came back with some hand cuffs. Once he had him locked up, he made a call to the dispatcher to get them to send a car and bring Ethan in. During the whole time this was all going on, I didnt dare say a word and it wasnt until Jack hung up his phone did I finally speak. “Im sorry I got you into this mess. Ill understand if you dont want to see me again. ” “Hell, you aint got nothing to be sorry about. I aint got to whip anybodys ass like that in a long time. Although, it would help to know what brought all this on. ” While we waited on the cruiser, I explained the entire mess to him just as I have here and to my amazement, he still didnt run away. In the following weeks, I filed that restraining order against Ethan with help from Jack and an understanding judge. In addition to a beating hell never forget, he was also sentenced to 18 months in the county jail. I hope, for his own good, and of course mine, that when hes released he forgets about me and learns the true meaning of no when it comes from a woman. After all the crap Id gone through, I finally realized the security business wasnt for me and went the direction I should have in the first place. Although I may only be a substitute teacher for now, I know with my desire to excel Ill get to where I want to be eventually. Lord knows why I didnt choose this path in the beginning, but I do know its where I belong. With Jack at my side, I hope I may persevere in the one area I was unsuccessful, but thats another story for a different time. Keep me in your hearts and I hope one day soon to be able to share it with you all.

Happy Independence Day Since the 4th of July festivities are about to begin, I thought it a good time to share my story. Not only will I be celebrating the United States independence from England, I will be celebrating my personal independence from slavery known as marriage and the sentence of life in Hell being married to a Borderline Personality Disordered woman. It has been an uphill battle that is now over. While not easy, I hope that those of you that remain enslaved can find the voice, power, and ability to remove yourself from that soul sucking situation. Additionally, I would like to thank all of you on WAATGM that submit posts and comments regularly. I stumbled upon this sub a mere 7 months ago. The comradery, brotherly love, and no bullshit attitudes have been a welcome relief from the day to day bullshit. It has helped to remind me that the light at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily a train, just that the bullshit behind me was a real-life train wreck. They say that ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking the law. Many of us has heard this phrase at one point or another. For those that havent heard it before, the basic gist is that the law is the law and you will be held accountable for your actions (breaking the law) even if you did not know what you were doing is/was illegal. The same thought process stands true with women. Ignorance of women is no excuse when you realized that you have chosen the wrong one (or two or 5) you will still be held legally and financially accountable to that woman. If you are not married, then dont ever get married. If you are married, then do not make rash and impulsive decisions when you finally see the face of the stranger that you are legally bound to. Divorce is a womans game that is designed so you have very little chance of winning. The rules are written by women, changed by women, interpreted by women, and enforced by women. Most of them are hidden until the judge shoves a copy up your ass. Acting impulsively just makes it easier for them to screw you over. Anyoneinamericas Story About 25 years ago, I started a new job where I met this hot little Latina (red flag) woman. She was separated from her husband (red flag) and father to one of her two children (red flag. She was an attractive woman that was about 5 years older and was actively flirty with me (red flag. We worked together and hit on each other for about 6 months before anything moved forward. The entire time the flirtation was sexual but lacked the crudeness that you would find with the typical slut. She had a coy virtue to her method that left me with the impression of a good girl that is just stuck in a bad marriage. Now enters Captain went from flirty co-workers to balls deep fucking, literally 5 minutes after I suggested it (red flag. There was no dating, there was no seduction required, there was an unspoken urgency that I didnt recognize and mistook for attraction and passion. I had been around the block a few times and was no stranger to sex, even some really fun kinky stuff; but the talents that this woman possessed were professional grade* red flag. My younger and more ignorant self was hooked. I was thinking with my dick and not heading advice from others. In my mind, she was the perfect woman. My own sexy olive skinned, dark haired, and horny Latina unicorn. We continued to fuck with abandon like coked up rabbits and we began ‘dating. We would go out to dinner, movies, dancing, theater, and other romantic type shit. Of course, it was all on my dime, since she was a ‘traditional kind of girl, despite the porn star quality sex I was receiving (red flag. There was plenty of time to do all these things since her soon to be ex-husband had custody of the kids, even the one that wasnt his biological child (red flag. Regardless of what we were doing, we would be fucking afterwards. We would fuck in the car, in her apartment, in the office after hours, on the patio, and on a boat. If it was logistically and physically possible, then we took advantage of it and fucked. The more extravagant the date, then the more intense the sex was later. I didnt realize until later that the sex was just bait and switch and a form of behavioral conditioning. She was training me to associate great sex with providing my time and money for her, at least indirectly. Not long after this point we decided to move to a new city and get new jobs. It was a new beginning for both of us. A way to start a new life together and all that other chick flick bullshit. However, in all reality it was a way to separate me from my friends and family. Since I was blinded by sex and thinking with my dick, I jumped at the chance. We moved to a new place, got an apartment, and began to play house together. We combined incomes because that is what all serious couples do, right. We both worked and put money in the bank. Since I worked further from our apartment, didnt have a desk job, and she was ‘better at balancing the checkbook; we (she) decided that she would manage the finances. It was weird that we never had extra money to do anything like taking trips to the beach, going to a winery for the weekend, and the occasional nice dinner out. We did these things before, when I was paying, but no longer. When I asked about it, I was told that we didnt have the money. Again strange, since I had the money before. I asked to see the finances and the bank statements, which I thought was a reasonable request. Apparently, I was wrong in that regard. The argument that ensued was long and loud. It continued even after I gave up and went to sleep. She would wake me up to argue some more. When I say argue, I really mean to say call me a new derogatory name that she thought up and repeat the other ones that she had already used. The general overview was that I was a piece of shit for not trusting her and having the audacity to ask where the money was going. I later learned by going through my own financial information, that she kept locked in the desk, that she had a previous bankruptcy, had managed to acquire some credit cards with high interest, and had also managed to max them out. I was paying these debts and didnt know. What happened when I asked about her financial situation? Another fight where I ask a question, she repeatedly yells obscenities at me, questions my manhood, and berates me for having the temerity to go through the papers in her desk. As you can probably guess by now, each and every time this occurred I would cave in. Once I would admit my transgression and properly grovel for her forgiveness; I would be rewarded with great sex. Thinking with my dick was getting me in deeper and deeper shit. These types of spats played out on repeat for a few years. She was a master manipulator and easily twisted anything I said to be in the wrong. I truly began to believe that I had problems and was in the wrong for questioning things that seemed wrong to me. My perspective was destroyed and only she could think correctly. If I wanted peace and happiness, then I had to change. Unfortunately, I did change. I ceded control of my money, my life, my decisions, and my happiness to her. ‘We decided to get married and ‘we decided to have children. So we got married and had 2 children. ‘We decided that it would make more sense financially and developmentally if she became a stay at home mom until the kids were old enough for school. We wouldnt have daycare expenses and household issues like meals, laundry, and housekeeping could be taken care of by her. Of course, it did not work out like that. When the kids became school age, she couldnt be bothered to find a job. The constant excuse being, “Ive been out of the market for sooo long, I cant find a good job. ” As a SAHM, she couldnt be bothered to clean the house, wash laundry, buy groceries, prepare a meal, take the kids to school, pick them up from school, take them to doctors visits, change out of pajamas, have sex, or any other domestic duties. She was a literal parasite. She only consumed and provided nothing but shit in return. Speaking of consuming, the only thing that she did for the 19 years that we were married was buy shit. Twice during our marriage and once at the dissolution of our marriage, I had to figure out a way to pay off the ballooning debt that she created through on-line and TV shopping. I promise you that you do not know real financial and physical manifestations of stress until you have a BPD wife, two kids, a brutally murdered credit score, and 40K+ in consumer debt on top of regular cost of living; and persevered through it not once, not twice, but on 3 separate and distinct occasions. It got so bad at some points that I seriously considered suicide but couldnt figure out a way to accomplish this and guarantee that the insurance companies would pay out. Additionally, I obviously couldnt trust that she would be a good steward of the money or my children. I love my children and would do anything for them. I do not think of them as a negative thing in my life, but the reality is that they were her safety net. I didnt understand until much later that they were the anchor on which she would guarantee her cash and prizes when I was used up and she moved on to the next mark. Since she could not be relied upon to do anything but manage the finances (poorly) with an iron grip; and I being the only responsible party in this ‘relationship I did the only thing that I knew how; I worked. I worked my regular job which pays well. I worked side jobs to bring in cash to pay the debts. I worked in the house to feed and provide for my kids. I worked to raise my kids. I worked, I cooked, I cleaned, I did laundry, I went to the grocery store, I took my kids to the doctor, dentist. orthodontist, and I got my kids to school & back. I lived on about 3 hours of sleep each day for many years while she slept all fucking day and shopped all night. THE MAIN EVENT(S) Thats right events…plural. Now that I have provided a little background on the hell that was my marriage and my life on a consistent basis, I will talk about the 3 distinctive events that pushed me to wake up and realize that my life sucks and is in no way close to normal. During the relationship there were almost daily fights, arguments, disagreements, and the beloved silent treatment. I became numb, tolerant, accepting, and blind to them. What most men would consider the ‘main event was just a weekly event in my life. These spats were usually verbal, emotional, and manipulative in nature. They did not always include violence, but that was always a possibility and did happen often. As a male, I was expected to take it but not reciprocate. In addition to these daily and weekly conflicts, there were 3 major events that I classify as ‘main events. Each ended up being extremely physical and violent and each ended up with the police being involved. The first was at the 6-year mark of the marriage. Things were becoming unusually more tense and financial difficulties were the cause. The short version was that I was less than a real man because I didnt make enough money to support my family. I was neglectful of my family (her) because all I did was work and take care of the kids. I am spending too much time away from the house ‘working and must be fucking some chick on the side since I had no interest in trying to fuck my wife. The hindsight view is a little different. We were severely in debt and she was no longer able to hide it from me as I was receiving collection calls at my work. To deflect away from the problem of debt, to manipulate me into not leaving, and reassert her control over me; she instigated a fight and escalated it to physically violent. Lots of things in the house were broken, many glass objects were broken on my head. When she picked up broken glass and kitchen knives to attack me, I called the police. She was removed but instead of jail they took her to a psych facility where she spent 72 hours. There was a hearing and the judge released her and instructed her to go to therapy for her ‘temporary moment of some shit. There were no charges, no trial, no convictions. Not one fucking consequence for her trying to stab me because she got angry. She went to therapy right up to the point where I filed bankruptcy, lost the house, had no credit, forgave her, and agreed to work on things. Therapy immediately stopped. We moved into an apartment closer to my work, and life continued pretty much unchanged. The second event was at the 11-year mark of the marriage. Leading up to this point from the last chaotic event, finances were doing ok since we didnt have any credit and were paying cash for everything. However, after a year or two we started getting credit card offers with high interest rates. I found out much later that she had applied for and received many credit cards in both her and my names to ‘build up our credit scores again. Of course, dumb ass me accepted this as a good idea. During this time, she had become accustomed to me being available as her personal servant since we lived closer to where I worked. When I received a promotion, more responsibility, and had to work in a different location; she did not take it well. The accusations of infidelity began again. The daily and weekly spats were the norm for a while, but things were escalating like the last spat. As much as I tried to give in to her bullshit and avoid another fight, she would just push harder. I began to ignore her, not react or respond and continue with my responsibilities as if nothing was wrong. As was the norm for me at the time, I came home to get lunch and make sure the kids had something healthy to eat for lunch. She chose this moment to ratchet up the fight that had been going on for days. Yelling, cursing, and name calling ensued. Household objects became projectiles as she deployed the attack and retreat method of battle. She would throw something to hit me but would typically miss or I would deflect it. After a period of this combined with the need to return to work, I simply said, “Im done. I am going back to work now. ” I reached the third step from the top, as I was walking down the stairs, when I was hit in the back of the head and tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs. She had grabbed a large school dictionary and hurled it at me from a few feet away. As I picked myself up from the heap at the bottom of the stairs, I glanced up to see her standing at the top smirking. As I slowly walked up the steps glaring at her, she ran to hide in the bathroom. The locked bathroom door exploded as I walked through it. I walked up to her, grabbed her by the throat, lifted her off the ground, and informed her to never hit me again. I set her down, walked out, and went back to work. I thought the fight was over, at least until I went home; but I was mistaken. Gravely mistaken. The cops picked me up from work later that afternoon. I was arrested and spent 3 nights in jail, since it was a Friday and I wouldnt have an arraignment until Monday morning. I was arraigned, received a restraining order, had bail set, and had a trail date set. I contacted a lawyer to try and figure a way out of this disaster. I tried to bond out but couldnt make bail right away because all the funds in my account were gone. I had to have my lawyer contact my employer to stop the direct deposit on my next paycheck and pickup my paycheck that Friday. I remained in jail for 7 days until I had the funds to make bail. I slept in my office for another week since I could not go to my home. Desperately trying to figure out how to piece my life back together and still ignorant, I thought that she had come to her senses and wanted to reconcile when she had the temporary restraining order removed. My dumb ass went back home to try and rebuild the marriage/family that was there. I was tried and convicted because nothing that she did mattered to the family court. I received 2 years of probation, forced to take parenting classes, forced to take the batterers intervention courses, and pay fines and fees. I can argue the merits of the moronic Duluth model, the hypocrisy of the family court, and the bullshit that feminism has sprayed upon this country for a very long time. The actions of those 3 things led to my being awoken to how the system works and how I as a man am at a disadvantage. If it was not for the requirement to take the batterers intervention courses; I would have likely never learned the extent of the abuse spectrum. I would not have learned about the types of abuse that are classified. I would not have learned of the types of personalities that are abusive. I would not have learned exactly how the system treats abusers. Most importantly, I would not have learned that I was indeed being abused by my crazy spouse and she would likely kill me one day. Granted the classes all list women as the victim and men as the abusers, but it doesnt really take that much of a leap to swap the gender roles to realize that I was the victim and continued to be the victim, regardless of what the courts might say. I decided then that it was over, but I had persevered this long and I was not going to let the system screw me and my kids. I played the part that I was expected to. I received the abuse of my spouse on a regular basis. I redirected the abuse that she intended for the kids onto myself. I went on as I had done for the past 10 years. However, while I was at work I would: research everything that I could on my situation. research about NPD and BPD women and wasnt shocked at what I found since I was living it. research the best family law attorney in the area and placed her on retainer. Squirrel small amounts of money away Record as many confrontations as I could Document each argument in a logbook Document each time she was abusive to the kids Find and research the Red Pill Find and research MRA sites Find and research NPD and BPD sites for victims I continued and waited for the next event. I knew it would come and had to be patient. More importantly, I had to be stoic when it did happen. I could not react to anything that she would throw at me, lest I end up in jail again. The next event happened around the 17-year mark of our marriage. I waited and suffered for an additional 7 years. She did not disappoint. One Saturday morning, while I was sleeping, she decided it was time to shake it up again. She began by throwing and shattering everything in the home that was glass. I woke up after the first item broke downstairs. After I heard 3 or 4 items shatter, I knew what was going on. I woke up the kids and had them get dressed, told them not to fight with their mom, and we waited. I waited and allowed her to build up a head of steam and destruction like never seen before. She laid waste to our home. She threw things at me. She threw knives at me. She attempted to hit me with her fists and kick me; and I passively allowed it. She broke a glass vase on the back of my head, and I allowed it. She hit me in the face with a book, and I allowed it. She kicked me in the stomach cracking a rib, and I allowed it. She left me bloody and bruised, AND I ALLOWED IT. When her attacking me didnt garner the reaction that she wanted, she moved her attention to the kids. She screamed and yelled and insulted them, and I allowed it. When she punched one of them, I stepped in to protect him. She retargeted me for her violence and hit me some more. I sent the kids to the basement, followed them, and called the police. When the cops arrived, she was still destroying shit and throwing shit around the house. They arrested her and took her to jail for domestic violence. They took pictures of the destruction. They took pictures of my wounds, bruises, and cuts. They took pictures of the bruises on my child. She was released on her own recognizance (no bail needed) 2 hours later with a 3-day temporary restraining order. I refer you to my experience above on a Friday and encourage you to remember that this occurrence was on a Saturday morning. I pressed charges and filed for a restraining order for me and my kids. I filed for full custody of my kids. I filed for full possession of our home. I went to court with 145 eight by ten glossy photographs of the destruction. My lawyer, on my orders, was relentless and employed a scorched earth policy. She received 2 years of probation, batterers intervention course, parenting courses, court mandated therapy, and a full 2-year protective order for me and my kids. I was awarded full custody of my children. When the restraining order expires both of my children will be over the age of 18. Once the criminal and custody aspects were concluded, I filed for at fault divorce. After one-year separation (why I still dont know) the divorce was granted. I have my house, my kids, my sanity, my peace of mind, my financial security, and a much better life. She did not receive any cash and prizes from the court. No child support, no alimony, no retirement account, no cash settlement, no house, and no car…not one fucking thing other than her clothes. CONCLUSION / RESPONSE As a result of the corrupt police and judicial system that has been overrun by feminist doctrine and policies, the average man cannot and will not receive a fair trial. A woman can and will use this against a man if she believes that it benefits her. I have realized that there were many events in my marriage that were designed to provoke a reaction from me so that my spouse could assert dominance and control. Having lived it and read more accounts than I can count of other men that were in similar situations and been fucked by the court for having done nothing more than defending themselves, I can say that I am cured of the mental disease known as marriage. There is absolutely no benefit to the male in marriage and incalculable liability. I shall never marry again. I shall never again co-mingle my finances with a woman. I shall never get to a point where I cannot walk out of a relationship again. The first sign of disrespect or attitude, and I will be gone. There will never be another woman sleep in my home longer than one or two nights. I will never be subjected to the whims of the evil incarnate that is woman. They will lie, cheat, and steal to benefit themselves. They have absolutely zero remorse for destroying people and will often do it out of boredom. I consider myself to be a good man. I am responsible, honest, hardworking, fairly attractive, in shape, ear a decent living, fairly educated, etc etc etc. However, the simple answer as to why this 'Good Man' has checked out is that women treat men like shit and cannot be trusted to be loyal, supportive, loving, caring, or any other traditional female stereotype. The Female organism is fundamentally flawed and as a parasite destroys each and every host that it attaches to. Men are happier, healthier, and safer to avoid women like the plague that they are. I would and will advise any man or boy to never get married and never be bound to a woman for any reason. The troubles are many and the benefits are non-existent. I am going to have a very happy 4th of July as I have fought and won my personal independence. I wish the rest of you that have yours a happy independence day as well. For those that are still shackled under the tyrannical boot of a out your battle plan and live free.

Movie jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho 3a sei-jigoku new. Movie Jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho: Sei-jigoku. 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Movie jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho 3a sei-jigoku remix. Dear Andrew Im here typeing this out cuz Im not gonna write a letter its to much to do for all these fucking feelings that I have but I am going to put them down and this pain is fucking real and the last phone call is what made me break down and had to write this last and final letter. I know I probably will never see u again or send you any letters after but Im so tired of being disappointed I dont want to be with you for what so you can just hurt me again I dont trust you I never did and I know that you never loved me. I knew that you loved the way I loved you and that I would do anything for you and you loved the way I made you feel like you Werent a piece of shit but in fact You are because thats what you choose. like how could you be OK with not being a father to your daughters when u claim they are the most important thing In your life besides me? Yet I never judged you for it ever I even held u when u cryed and I basically told you my life story when I was damaged and broken myself going through the hurt and pain of thinking someone loved me but they didnt and I was not looking to fall in love I was not looking for you but I cant help how I feel Ive never felt love like that before ever in my life and I think thats what hurts me the most because I know I never will fall in love like that again and it wasnt the way u treated me that made me stay it was the way you made me feel safe when u held me in your arms against your chest it was like time and space dosnt exist I felt like everything was okay and it was going to stay like that u made me go to a different place in my mind were nothing mattered but being with u that very moment and when u ditch me for days on end I dont have that comfort and I began to learn how to be okay without it like how could U take the only thing that kept. me from leaving away... you were not good to me. but you did have moments of kindness that I enjoyed and cherished But its not enough to keep me I knew you were a liar and two-faced you were a smooth talker you knew how to manipulate any situation to get what you wanted even tho everyone knows it bullshit but you nagged until you got what you wanted and youre still good at it funny thing is I knew you were manipulating me. but I didnt care because I loved you and u were always there when I was upset to hold me and I forgave it and I Allowed it to continue and thats my fault. I let you walk all over me and use me for the moment until you didnt need me anymore... I loved you So much that I let it slide but than it started getting old and I couldnt hurt anymore and u made me not want to be comforted and I started speaking up and you started getting violent because I wouldnt allow you to continue to hurt me and lie and then leave me for hours, days, weeks on end and I would walk away to just sitting there in tears just to let u continue to bullshit and I knew that you cheated while I was in Alaska because I felt it. I felt the pain in my soul out of no where I was chilling in the room and I got this bad horrible stabbing feeling in my heart and I tried calling u and u didnt answer all day until the next night and I cried all night when you didnt answer I knew you were with someone else. so then I came back and it was true. the fact that u did that means u never loved me in the first place and I knew it it was a slap in the than I didnt know why you would send me all those beautiful heart felt messages (that I deleted by the way) Just to cheat. I gave you so much money. knowing that check shit was gonna fuck up my account and that u werent saving it and than it clicked. I know why you sent them. but never mattered to me. money isnt love and never will as long as you were happy thats all I cared about to show u I was down for u and not gonna ditch you. and finding out I was pregnant fucking killed me. I wanted to die right then and there I knew you werent going to take care of jasmine or be a father cuz like u didnt do that with the others so why would I be special? So I tried so hard to stay awake and work it was so hard I slept for almost a week straight drained on top of being pregnant I couldnt and after I felt that pain in my heart and soul I knew I was about to lose you so I decided to come back and said fuck the money we boss enough to make it if we When I got back nothing was the same and when we had sex in the hotel room I knew right than and there u did fuck someone else before I saw the text message becuase your energy was different and you felt different to me why do you think I checked your phone in the first place. although I mean we Would fight And argue before I left but after you had no respect for me you had a hatred and resentment toward me like I did something to you and than begin to put hands on me and hit me while pregnant with our little jasmine and I dont know why I stayed but I guess it was the drugs and that u scared me so I Allowed you to hurt me over and over again And So I thought maybe the drugs was the reason why you couldnt love me but thats bullshit you were loving me just fine when u knew I was going to Alaska and getting money yet wasnt perfect u didnt hit me and I Know it was cuz you never cared and I guess deep down I knew that I was being I realized my flaw in picking Men I have to fix ur life because no one helped me worked on mine learned it in west care co-dependcy and I want to make them the best person they can be instead of finding someone who is already working on being the best they can be or working on myself but instead I want to love anyone who will love Me. I disregard the red flags and I love them unconditionally and I give them all of me trying to show them it can be done and so I push and push To make them work to be better and move forward and I guess thats where I lost them and you Because I know I can be controlling and in my mind its to help you not you cant save someone from there self and no matter what you arnt me and dont have the heart and mind as I do and I know I cant force someone to grow up or be who I think theyre meant to be and thats what I saw in you. someone who can be the best father son brother lover husband and provider but I guess thats not you. so Im sorry but how dare you pretend and manipulate love for me for your selfish needs never caring about my well being or the choices I made Then turn around and get mad at me for calling you out on it But no matter what you still got what you wanted you always did and I guess thats why u always left me behind and get more excited. Hanging out with other people than me cuz I always gave u what u wanted and you always want what you cant have I just hate that when I told you about my ex when we first met because you told me these exact words”” I dont know who you dated in the past but I could never hurt you, your the shit”” And that is what kills me more than anything. so when I went to the hospital I thought I was never going to see you again But more than anything out of the singing and music career that I wanted since I was a little girl. I wanted a family like a i had to slay the dragon and go through hell and back to live a happily ever after with my Prince Charming but I guess thats why its called a fairytale. but its why I left vegas the first time and stoped making music in the studio and went to Florida I wanted to start over go to school find my love and have a once again I feel form someone broken and tried to fix him and he coming back I didnt care about anything until I fell in love with I didnt even like u when I first met wasnt love at first sight untill that very moment a small glance into ur eyes when we were outside the 7/11 my heart stopped and I had a haze of smoke come over my eyes never happing before in my life and I was hooked when the little things u do like the excitement and passion you have with everything. honestly thats my favorite thing about u. I started loving the little things about u and it grew so I told myself that if I stick by your side and be your ride or die and help you with your addiction and over come anything in our way that you would appreciate me and love me and wanna be the person youre meant to i gave u another chance and I decided in westcare to contact your sister back told her you were in jail and what happened even though I didnt care for your sister or ghetto mom I still wanted to show that Im willing to do I never believed in having a baby if the father and mom arnt together. its not how I was raised But you got out of jail and didnt bother to come see me I had to go find you and you were already getting out and getting high and once I found you At least you started talking to seeing me even though that was bullshit too. I was always the last option and you wouldnt show up to celebrate recovery or bother to come see me at west care And when you didnt show up for Christmas my heart dropped. I told u multiple times on the bench that I cant have u in and out and come and go and u promised me but I forgived you every time And allowed you to be there when Jasmine was born I thought maybe that would change your heart and for a while I was convinced especially in the hospital how u seemed like u cared and was happy to be a family but I guess it was a façade and you played me and my parents. when my parents didnt care for u until they saw u in the hospital and being there when I got out they even started liking you especially my dad he wanted us to be together and I thought I was finally going to have my dream come true but we both started doing drugs again and I blame myself for allowing a lot of that but i knew u didnt want to grow up and work and stay home and be a family u felt bored and I knew you were not happy being with me all the the wayYou started Distancing your self and you started being on your phone 24/7 even bringing it in the bathroom with u owing for damn well it was not just flip its like once I got a job you fucked up yours because you knew I was OK and you never cared to work anyway because you missed the lifestyle of drugs not the drugs itself you wanted to do whatever u want without any responsibilitys not much longer your addiction kicked in and you were gone. I dont know where u been since cuz we didnt really see each other u were gone a lot of the time ghosting me but no matter what I forgave you and try to move forward I told you if you were going to do drugs dont cut me off. I even tried showing u that we can do fun things like bowling and movies and shopping but no matter what you cut me off as I didnt exist every single time. so I went to to find you and I did, but it started getting old and I knew if I didnt come to find u I would never hear from you. yet I never understand how you could ghost me so long when we used to get high together. so it confirmed you were with someone I would get angry and call and break up but u never answered so I moved on saying fuck you come back and tell me that you didnt want to make it worse and thought some time and space was going to make it all right that you never considered us breaking up. so You thought I would get over it and miss you and forgive you and you expected me to continue to love you the same as if I wasnt hurt by the fact u didnt fact I was balling my eyes out needing your hugs to feel better and forgive u and continue to love you. but each time u cut me off I began to hate you and it grew more and more until I just didnt want to look at ur face but I did not want to give up on you like you did me cuz u have a addiction to drugs and I had an addiction to you so I stayed hurt with hate and disgust trying to act okay. but Did you notice how unhappy I was? how I never trusted you? how I felt like maybe I was better off alone. how I felt like I was never good enough to be around you? how I felt like I was a bother to you? did you notice the hurt in my eyes when I looked at you? Did you feel the connection slowly dying. No you did not and it just proves the point that you dont love me even though you swear up-and-down that you do and Im your everything. but you are such a liar because your actions always I mean always. show otherwise. And thats when I began to sound like a broken record. telling u just talk to me be fucking real and it was annoying as fuck that I had to repeat my self so many times it made it seem like I didnt care about you or your feelings. but you never expressed them to me you just said okay Im sorry ima work on it I promise. but since June you been gone idk where you go or what you do and you tell me nothing and that you been with rich or Lenny and Laura knowing thats bullshit cuz when we was on the streets it was never like that you got what u wanted than dipped like you do everyone. all I knew was you were fine without me. you didnt check up and see if I was mad or upset or you didnt care that I was crying my eyes out wondering why I couldnt have all ur attention wether you were high or not... crazy wondering why I wasnt good enough when I gave u all of my time and attention and was wondering who was the lucky person who took you alway from me. and anyone who is OK with not seeing me or talking to me especially when they say they love me more than anything in this world. I know its a lie and you dont care about me and Im being played and used so I stopped with the long messages that were never read I stopped with the phones calls that were never answered and stopped looking for you when u didnt want to be even after that and your little binges of leaving me high and dry basically saying fuck you to my face I do what I want. you would come back to me crying like a little bitch begging me to take you back and ramble on about how sorry you are and you were going to make it right and get off drugs and go to NA you were going to treat me like the queen I was and u said u were going to call every night and next time u got high u will call me and you were gonna do everything not to go to prison becuase if it wasnt for me you would of fucked it off and did the little year. yet it was your plan the whole was a waiting game for you and at that point you fucked it off and me as well and did what u wanted. acting like u were doing everything u could to do the right thing but once again it was a lie because you didnt want wanted the easy way out and now you have it. Once again you won Andrew but everything has a price and you lost me the only person who loves you unconditionally after all the pain and lies and cheating. I still looked past it and been the down ass bitch I was from day fucking 1 and the fact that you wont admit to giving someone else ur time and love that was mine is why I was hurting because I wanted closure. I know that I will never get it because you dont know how to be a man. and I cant teach you. you dont know how to be real. and never dont know how own up your mistake. You find anything and everything to blame it on drugs were the perfect excuse. but I know its not the drugs Its YOU. when you were not on drugs you still were a narcissistic asshole who only cares about himself And I know a lot of it has to do with your family and how u were enabled you. but no matter what I still loved you and Always I only wanted too feel and see the same love in return and I never got it... I know Now that even tho I fell in love with you and had a connection that I never felt doesnt mean you did too and it shows. so I cant force you to act right or treat me with respect. no matter if I gave u all my love, never tripped, gave u all the money in the world and gave u the life u always wanted it wont change and never will. so I always thought about You could never so me affection and admired never were head over heels for never want to post it on Facebook or whatever and tell the world how perfect I was and how lucky u were to have someone like me. I felt if I was just there for the moment and You didnt try taking me out on dates you would say we should and make me do most to all of the work to and you didnt ask how I was feeling unless I been tripping out on you about it and you didnt ask what I needed never. you didnt give me back rubs You didnt do what someone does when they are in love you did the bare minimum to make it seemed like u were trying and cared You treated me as a homegirl more than anything when I did the opposite and gave you all of me even though I know Im not perfect and Ive made mistakes but you used it against me and convinced me that I was crazy and Trippin for thinking and feeling that you were on some sneaky shit because the energies and the vibes you gave. It wasnt always like that but we would be chilling and all of a sudden there a intensity in the room like u were gonna caught like a scared nervous reckless feeling And I said something about it and you called me crazy and it made me go crazy because I had to prove you wrong and show you the sneaky shit that you were doing and catch you in the act but how fucking stupid. Im dumb for that I know now it was the mind games you where playing. and I know u loved it too becuase u did things just to fuck with me all the just becuase you were technologically a few steps ahead of me I still knew what you were doing without proof I felt it in the way you looked at me, in the way you touched me, in the way you kissed me, in the way you talk to me and especially the way you made love to me our strong bomb connection we had during sex was gone. so I knew you were giving your love to someone else and I was the side chick I was the “trick” and I regret that I ever met your family they are just as fake as you and will play whatever side is winning but how dare u tell ur sister or mom that I ghosted you and wouldnt put money on ur books so they would be like WTF and give in foul for that and it proves my point even more. so while u were getting money on ur books with some bullshit ass lie I was getting the shit end of the stick and ur sister asking me I ghosted you and demanding that I give her ur fucking wallet But I aint fucking playing her little game and told her I wanted my stuff and she can come drop it off. so she got mad and wanted to fight and told me to pull up and she will give it to me I told her throw everything of mine away and Im good and blocked her and ur at this point I refuse to be talked down on like I aint shit. so I will not bring Jasmine into that toxic lifestyle were there is fake love and I will not allow you to hurt Jasmine the way you hurt me With promises that she will never see. Im lucky that Jasmine is not old enough to remember you and that she can not be heartbroken by the fact that you dont care about neither of us. I know One day when she is older and asks about u I wont stop her from trying to reach out but I will let her know what u did and let her make the choice herself hopefully one day some man will come into our lives and be a father to Jasmine and make her not want to meet you cause she deserves it just like I do until then Im going to be making music and doing what I love and I will make it to the top and make something of myself. I promise you that s coming And when I do and u see me on tv or the internet or magazine or how ever (even if u dont believe it) dont act like u ever cared and want to come around I will not take you back period. I dont want to be your friend. I dont want to be your baby mama. I dont want to be anything with you except erased. I just hope that you learn something from this and next relationship you value it and cherish it and look back on this and think twice about ur actions before you end up losing everyone and everything and no one not even junkies will help you. but if u do Youre going to end up just like Richard or your dad if you continue this and like looking back through everything of yours trying to find the sneaky shit I seen messages from previous relationships and you hurt every single person that you been with. so maybe You need to be with a man because I seen the messages from craigslist with htcoplay and you told me you never did once again it was a lie. because you cant except who you are why are you trying to put on a façade pretend to be something youre not stop being fake and except who you are if you are an awful human being who likes fucking anything then be that dont pretend to be something else so people can like you and you can use them Its crazy the truth always comes out anyway but how can you hide your double life? but no matter what all the pictures all the text messages all the sneaky Torrrants Apps all the bullshit you tried covering up You never saved pictures of me and thats what hurts the most because you saved messages from Micki and brienn and Vivian but when it came to me its like I never existed in your life so it shows me that you never wanted me to and I was a tool that you Used when you needed and when you were done you put me back in the toolbox and closed the lid shutting me looking back now I see that you never really wanted a relationship with me and thats OK you shouldve told me that you just want from to fuck buddy your best friend but you were too selfish and kept me all for yourself while you did whatever Andrew wanted to do disregarding my feelings and my needs even though I told you over and over again what u had to do so Like I even tried speaking to you in different ways so you could understand the hurt and why I reacted and treated you the way I did I tried making things funny I tried making things simple I tried explaining in detail but it didnt matter and it doesnt matter it never will because you dont love me you dont care about me and its clear and I dont need closure when the proof is in front of my face but Im trying to look for it on paper All it was was a waste of time I sat there trying to find Proof on the phone the whole time I was you already been With someone arently they were giving you what you needed at the moment and when you were done and wanted something real you came back to me but not anymore I cant ever be with you I can never trust you I could never be OK with the fact that Our love is lie When I answer the phone and talk to you from prison you act as if everything I said in the previous phone call was nothing that I would just get over it and that Ill forgive you if you give me time And get over it But no I will never get over it And then I was telling you how selfish and everything that was wrong and you disregarded my feelings and asked me to put money on your books like are you fucking serious? right then and there I knew you will never change And this last phone call You basically said okay than ghost me when u never cared about it anywhere and you let me go you But truthfully the only reason I answered the phone call was hoping that you would tell me who you were talking too to see if u were going to tell the truth. but you wont. you will play the victim until you die and thats OK you can do that with someone else because I have no more love to give and I will not be played for a fool Because I love you and have my kindness taken for weakness so the only reason Im sitting here typing this shit out because I loved you more than I have loved anyone in my entire life but theres nothing lovable about you, at least nothing I can see anymore, all I see is a wolf in sheep clothing and if youve been reading the Bible like you said you have you know what I mean no matter the fact you never tried helping me become a better person or make right choices. I can admit you did help me realize I dont need anyone to become a great woman And make right choices cuz Im the one who went through the program in west care Im the one who sat down and talked with my parents about giving me the opportunity to better myself and be a family Im the one who forgave and put ego aside and tried to make things work with your family and mine Im the one who got a job and made sure that you me and jasmine had everything we needed so you know what im OK with being alone and doing everything myself thats how its been for a long time and I see now thats how it will be for much more And Yes I do have my parents help at the moment and its such a blessing but I promise you it has never been like that Ive always been on my own. Ive always been my own best friend. Ive always been the one to pick myself up when I fall Even though its lonely, Its peaceful And I couldnt see that until now. So out of all the hurt and pain thank you for teaching me that I dont need anyone to be happy I dont need anyone to feel loved I dont need anyone to make me complete you showed me Im complete all by myself. I know Im beautiful and smart and intelligent, I have game, I will never go without, I can always pick myself up when Im down, I know how to hustle, i know how to treat a man and a woman with respect, I know how to fit into any situation, I know how to Make the best of what I got, I know how to be a loving wife and mother, I know how to be honest, I know how to be OK with my past and embrace it, I know how to love myself, I know how to be gangster, I know how to be sweet and innocent and I know how to be lady in the streets a Freak in the sheets and even tho it hasnt always been like that until now. until you were the worst best mistake Ive ever made and as much as I hate you for hurting me I still love you and I always will love you but you are not good for me And cutting ties with you is the fucking hardest thing I have done in my entire life I promise you that I can drop someone just as quick as you did me i too cut ties faster than anyone but you are my weakness and I dont know how. but I guess thats how I knew that I really loved you and till this day I know Im my heart youre my soulmate that I can never be with. yet I want to tell myself you will change And you would appreciate me but I cant lie to myself anymore I deleted everything of us not turning back I even deleted the deleted items so I know its gone I deleted all of your accounts to everything including emails Instagram everything in ur name. except the ones I dont know. Which I know you have... I deleted all of our pictures but 3 and I hope u see this picture and it reminds you what u lost. but one picture I saved of you and me and it was for my birthday when we dressed up and went out to eat and u felt like u were fat but I loved every inch of you iand I thought u looked the best u ever it fucking kills me looking at it every time cuz I want that Andrew why cant u be that Andrew but than again I dont know who that Andrew was. if it was really you cuz I dont know you I dont know who u really are besides what u shown me over and over again and it hurts me to know that I never will I guess thats what happens when you deal with a liar. but what I do know is its gonna hurt you more to see me living the life that we were supposed too.

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I attend a very forward thinking liberal arts school that challenges you to be creative. Thus, I used my college thesis assignment to finally explore and answer the age old question of “which is worse: being kicked in the balls or the vag? ” And after nearly two years of research, I shall reveal my findings. Seriously. I really wrote my college thesis on something middle school kids argue about. (Side note: it helped me get into the grad schools of Stanford, Vandy, Penn and Princeton, and am taking a year off to travel to South America before I decide which one to go to. I guess Harvard and Columbia Medicine didnt appreciate it as much. Before we get started, a quick background. The seed for my writing about comparing the effects of groin attacks on the two sexes as a college thesis was planted on New Years Eve 2010, because that was when my eyes were really first opened to the subject- and yes, I remember the date damned well. From TV and pop culture, not to mention being a boy, I always knew it hurt for boys to be kicked in the balls. My younger sister (by 19 months) knew so, too, and she would take advantage of this whenever she could. This continued until that day, when my parents went out to a movie and left us home alone. She got mad about me talking too loud on my phone and for the last time ever, kicked my balls- and I just snapped. Being a normal 14 year old boy who shot the shit at school and sleepaway camp, I knew that a girls clitoris was this tiny pea of sexual pleasure, but being a normal 14 year old boy, I didnt have any real experience with it. I did, however, wonder if an organ that was so sensitive to pleasure was also sensitive to pain, and decided that my sister had just earned herself the honor of being the guinea pig for a real life experiment to find out. So I found her on her bed a few minutes later, told her I just wanted to talk and promised I wasnt mad so shed let her guard down. I ended my little soliloquy with “youre my sister and I love you, ” and gestured her to get up and give me a hug. She bought it, and as soon as she stood up, it was ready, aim, fire. That kick was delivered with several years worth of frustration of her thinking she could get away with hitting me in my groin and I couldnt get her back because Im a male and shes a female, so I didnt hold back. I kicked my little sister in the clitoris with all my might. Holy shit. Ive never witnessed another human being in as much pain as my 13 year old sister in that moment, and that includes in both my personal experience and what Ive seen on the internet. Sure, she was a 13 year old girl, but she was a pretty tough kid. Id seen her take elbows to the face in basketball games that caused her nose to bleed without so much as a whimper. Id seen her fall out of a tree from about ten feet up and land facedown with nothing more than a quick gasp on impact before standing up on her own. Id even seen her break her ankle by jumping off a swing set and landing wrong, and all she did was suck in her breath, grit her teeth and limp back inside the house with her friend and I helping. So when I witnessed that same girl let out an ear splitting scream, grab her vulva and start bawling her eyes out, I knew Id hurt her. Badly. I dont remember a ton from what happened next, because immediately after administering a full force kick to my 13 year old sisters clitoris with the toe of my shoe that caused her to burst into tears and scream bloody murder, my instinct was “uh-oh, Im fucked when Mom and Dad get home. ” I do remember her crying extremely hard, not merely having her eyes water from the pain but actually breaking down and sobbing, and was still rolling around on the floor squeezing her genitals between her legs when I popped my head back into her room about five minutes later. I also remember running into my room and spending my last few hours on the internet Id have until July 4th weekend googling female groin injuries. Oh, and as for how do I remember the date? Because I got grounded for six fucking months for confirming my hypothesis on my sister, meaning I was basically under house arrest from New Years Day until three days before July 4 for what I did that day. And by what I did, I mean causing my sister what her doctor told my mom was “nerve damage to her clitoris. ” Again. Im happy to report that eight years later, my sister and I are the best of friends. Shes a really smart, objectively attractive girl whos going to make some guy very happy some day and who has grown past that dreadful experience to become a star athlete at a D-1 school. I love her to death, and am so proud of her that Id throw her name out there as a bragging right if doing so wouldnt cause her more embarrassment from an incident that our whole school laughed at her for for weeks. She was pretty cool about the whole thing, honestly, given that she later told me she was “absolutely miserable for about two hours” and that in the immediate aftermath she was in so much pain she tried to smash her head against the wall, thinking she would knock herself unconscious and at least put an end to her agony (so thats what that bumping sound was. She also mentioned that she was still feeling sore and couldnt sit or pee without pain for two weeks. In that same conversation, roughly five years later, she offered a sincere apology for ever doing it to me (and yes, I did give her the hug she thought she was getting five years earlier) but then she reignited the flame of curiosity about this topic in my head by saying, “I wonder if its worse for girls than it is for guys. ” Challenge accepted. Oftentimes, this debate ends with somebody saying that the only way to know which gender feels more pain from a kick to the crotch is for someone to possess both sets of genitals and thats the end of it. Since people with both sets of genitals are not especially common, the next best way to answer this question is to do a college thesis, which is why I did just that. Lastly, before we get to the details, two quick disclaimers before my research about male vs. female groin trauma is turned over to the public: In no way am I advocating for unprovoked violence against anybody of any kind, much less against peoples genitals. This is a crime. If you kick a person in the groin without what a jury of your peers deems a legitimate reason, you will go to jail. Having said that, violence is unfortunately sometimes a required course of action to prevent violence from being acted upon you. If given the choice of being hurt or hurting the person trying to hurt you, not a single rational person would honestly tell you that theyd pick option A. And yes, sometimes attackers can be women, and women who instigate a physical attack are every much as deserving of feeling the type of pain that will prevent them from doing so as men- a notion that American law agrees with me on as long as the retaliatory force is not wildly disproportionate. And this is also why reading about things like this are highly disturbing, and should be smoked out and eliminated: This was an assignment I had fun with, and that most schools would never allow for a daily journal assignment let alone a college thesis, but I took it with 100% seriousness. That means my findings are purely scientific. No weird BDSM shit here; Im a pre-med major and want to make a career out of science and/or medicine. This is the result of two years of asking friends and relatives of both genders about the topic, arranging for three focus groups on the topic among fellow students at my school, and scouring the web for everything from trusted peer-reviewed experiments to YouTube videos depicting it and everything in between not counting porn and fantasy scenarios (and for those who dont know, theres TONS of it to this theme. Without further ado, lets get to it. The science of the genitals. Males: testicular nerves are mostly unmyelinated (C-Fibres) and accompany the blood vessels. These also found within the arteries as vascular plexus. The testicles are innervated by the testicular nerve (visceral) therefore a blow to the testicles will produce an unpleasant visceral pain T10 down low. The testicles are also connected to the abdomen via the spermatic plexus, which is why males often experience pain in the lower abdomen following a kick there. Females do not have any equivalent part hanging between their legs, although they are much more familiar with this type of pain than many realize: their homologous organs are the ovaries, which sit in the lower abdomen and often ache badly during a certain time of the month. Females: The clitoris contains literally thousands of A-Delta (thinly myelinated fibres) and C-Fibre (unmyelinated fibres) nerves, and contains the highest concentration of nerve-endings of any body part in the entire human body, male or female. The tightly packed cluster of A-Delta fibres mean that a blow to the clitoris will produce a sudden and explosive sharp pain that is acute, and will usually feel like a burning/stinging sensation. The presence of C-Fibres within the clitoris means that any impact to the region will produce a dull and throbbing pain that is slow in nature. The clitoris is innervated by the pudendal nerve (somatic) therefore a blow to the clitoris will hurt like hell in the clitoris, but often will stay localized. That said: extremely hard shots to the clitoris do have the power to send pain up through the pudendal nerve into the lower abdomen, which is why a small percentage (approximately 18% of female victims report vomiting and nausea. The clitoris is the homologous organ to the penis, so males can imagine the type of pain (although not the extent of it) a female feels if kicked square in the penis. The type of pain. Males: when a boy is struck in the testicles, the first thing he experiences is a shocking type of pain that is capable of dropping him to the fetal position, somewhat comparable to striking the funny bone. That pain will fade fairly quickly, but shortly thereafter, the male will experience a dull, sickening pain that travels from the testicles up the spermatic plexus and into the lower abdomen. In that interval, though, it is possible for the male to experience a rush of adrenaline and continue an attack. Depending on how hard the testicles are struck, the nausea can last anywhere from two to twenty minutes. Unless the male was struck particularly hard and damage was caused, the effects of the blow will be over within twenty minutes or so. With that said, those twenty minutes or so can be absolutely miserable to experience depending on the individual and the nature of the blow. My research shows that this largely depends on how strong a stomach the particular male has. In other words, if a man typically gets motion sickness especially easily, hes likely to feel more pain than most following a kick to the groin. Females: when a girl is struck in the clitoris- and I mean squarely in the clitoris, not in the labia or inside of the thigh, but the clitoris- she experiences a blinding flash of pain that is capable of dropping her into the fetal position. The feeling is somewhat, not totally comparable (albeit more excruciating) to being struck in the nose and the shin bone at the same time, with the pain being felt in one spot and approximately four and a half times as badly. The pain can take anywhere from about fifteen seconds to fifteen minutes to stop throbbing depending on how hard and accurately the strike was landed, but girls often experience pelvic bruising and discomfort sitting down and urinating for days or even weeks after due to the close proximity of the vulva and the pelvic bone. A girls clitoris is the homologous organ to the penis, and thus is very sensitive to the touch. However, unlike the penis, the clitoris has over 8, 000 nerve endings on its exterior head alone, compared to less than half of that (just under 4, 000) in the head of the penis. And also unlike the penis, there are twice as many nerves are jammed into a much smaller area. On top of that, there are 15, 500 additional nerve endings elsewhere in a girls groin. Finally, it is less common than with males, but not altogether impossible, for a girl to experience the pain in her lower stomach as the pain from such a hard blow can travel up her pudendal nerve and shake up the middle part of her body. Because of the so-called “shockwaves, ” female victims of intense groin trauma can feel pain and sickness in her ovaries and uterus even though they were not struck. Long term damage Males: serious testicular injuries are rare. Severe cases of testicular trauma can result in the testicles bruising, swelling, rupturing or being popped up into the abdomen where they were initially formed. If the testicle is damaged to a point where it cannot be repaired, it must be removed, as happens here. Females: serious clitoral injuries are rare as well. Violent attacks to the clitoris can carry the risk of several different types of damage, though, including hematomas, blood clots, vulvodynia, and damage to the 8, 000 nerves within the clitoris. Pelvic and vulvar bruising is fairly common. Females may experience soreness and pain while sitting and urinating for weeks or even months afterwards. Heres a real life example of that: Degree of difficulty to strike the male/female groin Males are born well aware of their balls weakness, and thus are more likely to defend them in a fight. Also, the male attacking you is likely moving around a lot as he positions himself and makes his move, and his testicles are constantly swinging around as he moves. While obviously a bigger target than the clitoris, do not by any means assume that getting to them will be easy. Females have the advantage of the smaller target, and one that is somewhat protected, but one that is immobile. Many females are either unaware of their own genitals tenderness or believe that their fighting opponent is, so the average girl is much less likely to defend her private parts than boys. Also, even if you miss the clitoris, you may still be able to cause your attacker enough pain to get away as the flesh of the vulva is fairly sensitive itself, albeit not as much so as the clitoris. Stopping power in a fight against males Be careful, because this is a double edged sword. Do not let any man trying to act tough or any girl acting like men overreact to being struck in the testicles tell you different. Nut shots can be absolutely devastating, up to and including all the effects you see on TV. So theres no debating what a testicle attack can do. The worst case scenario of a kick to the balls has been well documented through the years. And indeed, because pain is subjective and depends on the individual, some males- even some big and strong ones- do react like that to simple taps or flicks to the nuts. I dont feel the need to link many more examples than that, because the effects of a testicular attack are more than well-known by society, and those effects are very much within the realm of possibility in a real life situation of danger. However, it is not always going to be that effective against somebody who is trying to seriously injure you, as the attacking mans personal tolerance for pain and your accuracy are thrown into the equation. When a person is involved in a heated physical confrontation, his or her body is filled with adrenaline. Below is an example of a guy who, while not in a physical confrontation, is filled with adrenaline because hes on TV and has prepared himself to be struck in the balls- which many attackers have done prior to beginning their assault. One of the effects of a testicular attack is the release of a surplus of more adrenaline. In a street fight where your opponent- likely a big, strong and tough individual- is concentrated solely on injuring you, thats just as likely to piss your attacker off and encourage him to hurt you worse as it is to incapacitate him. Because youve now elevated his adrenaline to an off the charts level, and now hes got extra incentive to hurt, rape or even kill you in his newly added fury whereas before maybe he just wanted your wallet. In serious street fighting situations, a nut shot is honestly a coin flip: it very well might bring him down and end the fight, or it very well might not. This isnt a reason to not kick him in the balls if hes trying to injure or mug you, as you have a right to not be injured or mugged, but this is exactly the reason you must be sure hes trying to cause you physical harm before attacking. And you should deliver the attack fully aware that it might not work, and be prepared to attack him elsewhere and/or run away. That said: a full force kick thats delivered accurately can sometimes cause the painful sensations to overwrite the adrenaline release and drop the man. Now, granted, this is an example from MMA, where the entire purpose is to fight, so this kick is delivered by a ridiculously strong man with decades of training in his background, but this is the pinnacle of the “reward” side of the risk/reward matrix of kicking a man in the testicles: But that example is the anomaly, not the rule. Most of the real life nut shots that you see on YouTube- either from sport, or Americas Funniest Home Videos, or just plain life- resulting in guys collapsing come from situations that are much lighter and less serious, where the male victim doesnt have adrenaline already coursing through him- not to mention situations where the male isnt really thinking about it as a possibility, whereas in fights men are well aware of the possibility. These range from sporting events (which includes MMA, where groin strikes are illegal) or playful (read: idiotic) challenges where the male isnt intending to defend himself from physical danger. In situations where a man is attacking you, he usually knows in the back of his head that being nutted is a real possibility, and being kicked in the balls is often less crippling when the man somewhat knows its coming. In addition, for every nut shot you see on YouTube or in the movies that results in the man being incapacitated, theres likely another four that took place in a serious fight somewhere else in the world where the man barely flinches and continues on with his attack as if nothing had happened; because this does not flow with pop cultures idea of a nut shot, this wont make it to YouTube and nobody will ever know it happened. But dont let any of that completely dissuade you from all youve learned in life about defending yourself. If youre in a fight for your life against a man, by all means kick him in the nuts as hard as you can- because theres a chance that it can do a high amount of damage and an even better chance that it will allow you the chance to run away. Because while its worth stressing yet again that its not guaranteed to cripple him, it absolutely can: And a chance to end the fight is better than allowing yourself to be a victim. We all know the worst case scenario of a testicular kick, because its the only result that ever gets advertised in popular culture. Just know that its not the only result that such an attack can possibly have, be prepared to follow it with something else, and dont expect it to automatically end the fight. Stopping power in a fight against females This is also a double edged sword, albeit one that relies more on the accuracy of the kicker than the attackers personal tolerance for pain. Again, though, lets remember that we are talking about direct strikes to the clitoris, not the vulva in general. Kicking the labia (vaginal lips) or pubic bone will cause pain, but not more than a kick to the shin bone and thus necessarily enough to end a fight against somebody who is intent on hurting you. Make no mistake: every female who claims to have been hit in the crotch and that it doesnt hurt any worse than anywhere else has never been struck square in the clitoris. They may have been hit in the vulva, or somewhere else in the groin area, but not in the clitoris, which is located at the upper end of the vulva. Because its the attack on the clitoris that generates the following results. Results like these. You know, where a woman is so badly hurt that she crumples to the ground, her face is twisted in agony, cant even get up for several minutes, and needs to be taken off the field on a stretcher. This was the result of a Japanese woman taking an inadvertent heel of a cleat to the clit (say that ten times fast) from a German woman in the 2011 Womens World Cup. There wasnt even any intent by the German player to cause damage or pain, but she placed her heel perfectly into the Japanese womans clitoris. But that Japanese woman shouldnt feel bad. Shes not the only woman to suffer a painful genital injury in international soccer this decade. Threes company, right? And while the rest of the examples in this hilariously mistitled compilation video only shows partially struck clitorises, it does strengthen my point that girls would rather get struck anywhere else on their bodies than their clits. Just ask Ronda Rousey. Or this girl: Or this female wrestler: And yes, it happens in kick boxing, too, where “one kick, ” as the video is titled, to the clitoris puts the woman down in anguish. Then theres this reddit thread: Now, as for that last one, Ill grant you that an anonymous reddit poster is hardly a reliable source. Of course, theres no video or even photographic evidence to back up the story here. However, Im inclined to believe the story here because not only are the effects she describes of the kick she took to her vulva consistent with my findings, but it makes sense that a girl who had been kicked in the clitoris would be embarrassed about it for the reasons she describes, would not want to put her name behind any questions regarding the topic, but would very much want answers and thus would seek them anonymously. She even admits to feeling sick to her stomach afterwards, which my research demonstrated is a real possibility for female victims of hard groin strikes. But anyway, Ill put it very simply for all the males who do not understand the female anatomy: if you strike the clitoris with the tip of your shoe, or something blunt yet thin enough to strike the clitoris directly and not get caught up by the girls inner thighs) in a full force kick, and youre kicking it upwards into the pelvic bone, its game over. Shes going down and thats the end of it, as it causes a sharp stabbing pain that is highly likely to rearrange her priorities by placing “protecting her clitoris” at number one. In contrast to the adrenaline rush many men experience upon receiving a blow to the testicles, women can experience a state of shock for a few seconds that can allow you more time to escape. Though theoretically possible, it is extremely uncommon for women to experience that same adrenaline rush after being struck. For an idea of just how sensitive the clitoris is: in some cases, it doesnt even take an extreme amount of force. In this example, a toddler is able to drop a teenager to the ground in agony just by placement. In most cases, men are bigger and stronger than women. But as you can see here, the girl is clearly bigger and stronger than the boy, yet hes able to incapacitate her with one single punch to the clitoris despite the fact that I seriously doubt he even knows what a clitoris is. The point is, in a situation where a female attacker is stronger than the male victim, the male can get away if he places his attack accurately. Meanwhile, below is an example that doesnt even follow all those criteria: its an inadvertent knee that found its way into a womans groin. but connected directly with the clitoris. Note how the woman falls to the ground, bends over, grabs her vulva, and lets out a few sobs. For an added bonus: kick the clitoris of a female attacker hard enough, and you may even rattle the middle of her body enough to shake up her ovaries as a byproduct, which will cause the same nauseas pain that boys feel after testicle strikes and girls feel with menstrual cramps. A few female victims of groin attacks do admit to throwing up; this is why. If you kick a girl in the crotch and it doesnt incapacitate her, its merely because you didnt kick the clitoris, you probably kicked the vulva, pubic bone or inside of her thigh, and/or you probably kicked with the top of the shoe instead of the toe of your shoe. A direct kick to the clitoris is not a subjective matter; its going to hurt, and its going to hurt bad. And thats why I feel obligated to throw in yet another disclaimer that such a kick should not be used unless you or someone else is in immediate physical danger. This isnt to say that trauma to the vulva in general- as opposed to merely the clitoris- cannot be devastating. There certainly can be excruciating effects from something as simple as a straddle injury (falling on something that hits you between your legs. And no, that case linked above is not an anomaly. They say threes a pattern, right? So, allow each of those above cases to serve as adequate proof: kicking a girl in her genitals with extreme force, even if you dont strike the clitoris directly, can still lead to unbearable pain and serious medical consequences. If you do hit the clitoris, the results are likely to be even more devastating. Which is why, and I cant stress this enough, deploying this tactic should be reserved for when you or a loved one is in danger. Because a vulvar injury can literally hospitalize a woman: This type of injury is called a straddle injury, and is the result of blunt force trauma from a long object that strikes the length of the vulva- like a pole. These examples are terrifying things to watch happen in a sport, or a game show, but let them all be your guide to just how devastating an attack on the female genitals can be. And just in case you havent been convinced by all of those examples, here are a few more. Comparisons between the male and female genitals Because everybody always wants comparisons between the two sets of genital targets, imagine that instead of having two testicles outside her body, a girl only has one. Now imagine that one testicle is the shape and size of a pea. Imagine that its got all the sensitivity of a testicle, but instead of being susceptible to sick, nauseas pain, its filled with the type of sensitivity that causes fiery burning pain. Making it worse for girls, if executed correctly, the kick will crush the clitoris up against her pelvic bone and re-create the same fiery pain again by pressing it forcefully against a hard object (the bone. For further perspective, the fingertip of an adult human has roughly 2, 479 nerve endings in it; the clitoris has over three times that, about 8, 000. So imagine not just jamming your finger, but having someone kick it extremely hard. Then multiply that pain by three. And that still isnt quite as painful as a clit kick. And THEN add the pain of being kicked in the shin. That, boys, is what a kick to the clit feels like. To boot, many girls and women are also unaware of the extent of the pain that can be caused from a clitoral kick, so they wont expect you to kick them there. That element of complete surprise that often causes the extra devastating level of pain for men is going to make things worse for women, too. In addition, although they are significantly harder to hit, a girls ovaries also serve as extremely underrated potential targets to strike in a fight. The ovaries are located halfway between a girls belly button and her vulva, an inch or two on either side. These are the homologous organs to the testicles, so striking them through the lower abdomen will cause similar nauseas pain to the the feeling girls experience during their periods, and boys experience when struck in the groin. Striking a girl at the same height level, but right in the middle, could also potentially result in connecting with the uterus through the fat and muscle of the lower stomach- which produces a similar (though not identical) feeling of sick pain. Lastly: a quick disclaimer about the sensitivity of girls chests. For most girls, getting struck in the boob is not a fun experience- it can be quite painful, actually- but it does not compare to the devastation of a groin kick for either gender. In most girls cases, the breasts are especially tender while theyre developing and during a certain time of the month, while for the duration of their lives are an “ouch” spot, somewhat like the funny bone. So females try to avoid having their breasts bumped or hit because it doesnt feel good to take a knock there, but in a situation where youre being attacked by a woman, the groin, throat, kneecaps and eyes are definitely better targets. Whats the absolute worst that could happen to a person of each gender following a groin kick? In the absolute worst cases for either gender, the victim could potentially experience such excruciating pain that it could literally be fatal. The human body is designed in a way that pain itself is a good thing in that it lets the person know that something is wrong. However, when the body feels enough pain, the heart rate starts to speed up and the persons body will not know how to respond. Thus, an absolutely overwhelming amount of pain- and now Im talking about pain of any kind, not solely to the genitals- can cause the heart to go into overdrive and the body could shut down. As previously discussed, thats true for both men and women. Men feel the overwhelming nauseas pain that makes them want to throw up, while women feel as though theres a fire burning in their clitoris. But pain is pain, and an overload of it for any person- whether to their genitals or anywhere else- will cause the person to go into a state of shock, and if not properly treated, yes, it could be fatal. Awful stuff. But again, it works that way for both genders. So, yes. Attacking a man or a woman in the groin hard enough- even without weapons- can literally kill them. So, who has the worse deal when it comes to being struck in the groin: men or women? My extremely in-depth, scientific and unbiased research has led me to believe that the answer is closer to even than most people would believe- and depending on what level of severity you want to go by, the answer flip flops. For example, in the top 1% most serious of cases reported/treated on each side, its actually worse for the female in terms of long term damage and chronic pain caused. Yes, really. Vulvodynia, which is chronic pain in the female vulva, is a condition that can make innocuous tasks as inserting a tampon or sitting down painful. Of course, here, were talking full-force, perfectly executed kicks directly to the bullseye of the clitoris from a fully grown adult who carries a legitimate desire to hurt someone. The worst 1% of testicular injuries in males will feature chronic pain from ruptured and/or removed testicles- which is something most men will cringe at reading. But the worst 1% of female genital injuries is undeniably worse. That most devastating 1% of groin injuries to females will feature damage to the vulva, the clitoris and the pelvic bone, the aforementioned shockwave effect up the pundendal nerve and damage to the ovaries and uterus. So add that up: approximately 60% as much pain felt in the ovaries as a kick of the same force to the testicles, PLUS the most nerve-filled organ in either the male or female body being crushed, which results in sharp, fiery and stabbing pain, which as mentioned above, if extreme enough, could literally be deadly, PLUS bruising or even breaking of the pelvic bone. Damage leading to testicular removal is terrible, dont get me wrong, but its not worse than more than half of that same exact type of pain to the ovaries AND permanent clitoral damage/vulvodynia that makes pleasurable intercourse impossible for the rest of the womans life AND a broken pelvic bone that requires immediate emergency surgery. But travel a little down the trauma/result matrix and it flips, as the most severe 10% of cases are worse for the male, as testicular damage is easier to cause than clitoral/vulvar/vaginal trauma. And the average shot to the crotch will hurt a boy worse than it will hurt a girl because the average shot isnt delivered with as much malice or care as a full-force kick with serious intent to maim by a fairly strong person. Plus, you know, the testicles are easier to hit, and a higher percentage of shots to the male groin are going to going to hit the testicles than the percentage of shots to the female groin are going to hit the clitoris. Yet, if were talking about a self defense situation where you are willing to do serious damage, there really isnt any way to determine if the average kick to a boys balls or a toe-up kick to a girls clitoris will have the stronger effect- even if we assume that you land it. This is where all the other factors come in- pain tolerance of your attacker, adrenaline rush, how accurately you land it, etc. Most important to remember that just because women dont feel the same type of pain as men doesnt mean they dont feel the same amount of pain following a direct shot to the clitoris. Ill put it this way: when men get kicked in the balls, they feel like they have a stomach virus due to the sick pain they experience. When women get kicked in the clitoris, they feel like theyve been set on fire due to the sharp pain they experience. So “who has it worse? ” is a question that can be answered by whether youd prefer to feel the extremely unpleasant sensation of a stomach virus or the extremely unpleasant sensation of having your genitals set on fire. Yeah, there isnt a good answer to that. They both suck. This is a personal preference between two shitty choices, and thus this is too subjective of a question to answer with one word. I mean, who was worse: Nazis or ISIS? My personal answer is: who gives a shit which of them was worse? Two very different organizations, but both horrible. And with groin strikes, its the same sort of thing. Ultimately, though, it doesnt matter who you think has it worse: a hard strike to the crotch, if landed correctly, is as likely as anything to cripple a person of either gender. If youre going to force me to give a concrete answer? Sure: Ill say a hard and perfectly placed kick to the clitoris is more painful than a kick of equal force to the testicles, because of what I saw my sister go through. Ive been hit in the nuts, hard, and its definitely not an experience Id ever like to repeat. But I have never been reduced to screaming for somebody to help me or trying to knock myself unconscious because of the pain, nor have I seen this, nor have I heard of this in my research following a blow to the testicles. Ethics of kicking men/women in the groin I feel certain that somebody is going to take the entire message of this post the wrong way, so let me be clear about my intentions with a third and fully fleshed out warning. These techniques are not to be used against someone who cuts in front of you at a bar, calls you a cunt, or didnt pay you back the 20 you loaned them. Kicking a person in the groin is a tactic that should only be deployed if you feel as though you could convince a jury of your peers that it was necessary to kick the person in the groin in order to protect yourself, because failure to do so will likely result in you being convicted of assault and battery, and possibly sexual assault or sexual battery as well. Conclusion: In general, groin shots arent 100% reliable against either gender. But thats because pretty much nothing in life is 100% reliable. And for the most part, it really, really sucks for both genders to be hit in the groin; its merely harder to strike a female in the area that can shut them down, but if you hit the respective target areas, its highly likely to cause the recipient horrible, unforgettable pain, regardless of gender. Kids, and adults alike, I strongly advise you against striking fellow people of either gender in the groin unless you are in danger of being seriously injured or killed, because you would not want it done to you. Parents of boys who play sports know to buy them protective cups so Im not going there, but parents of girls: I would STRONGLY recommend girls wear protection over their genitals as well. A hard kick from a sparring partner (karate) or a cleat from a sliding base runner (softball) could cause permanent damage, and more pain than youve ever thought possible. So: be respectful of each other in life, be smart and protect yourself in sports, and above all, just dont strike anybody, girl or boy, in the groin unless you really have no other choice.

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Movie Jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho: Sei-jigoku shoujo. It's about two years for me (40M) from DD with my cheating ex. (39F) We were high school sweethearts at the end of her senior year. I had just graduated and met her working in a video store in a small suburb. We were close friends for about six months and eventually it led to me getting up the courage to plant a kiss and the rest as they say is history. Unfortunately as this tale has found it's way to the sub we all know it didn't end well. I had never really had friends who cheated, never heard anyone talk about it, and I had no idea the amount of trauma that was on the way. It was a random occurrence that I had even found out. My folks were visiting and my ex took off to go to a coworkers wedding in another state. she had told me about the event about two weeks prior. My ex had a few friends that weren't mutual, nothing out of the ordinary, but there I was watching a movie with the folks and realized I misplaced my phone during the day. I was holding my iPad and browsing during the flick and tepidly shifted to the find My iPhone feature. Married for 10 years we had a lot of accounts tied together, and iTunes was one of them. Instead of my phone being first on the list it was hers. Instead of being out of state, she was at a local hotel about an hour away that doubles as a popular brewery. They hold weddings there all the time, and I was sure that was it, I'd find her there with her coworkers. Around 8pm I made it out to the hotel and couldn't find her anywhere, looking for two hours I narrowed the GPS to a certain wing. She wasn't in the restaurants so I did my best Eddie Murphy impression. That's what I call it when you con your way into some where you shouldn't be or get free stuff, cause Eddie was a master of that in all his early movies. I head to the font desk and say "gee my sister was at that wedding earlier, and I'm afraid some guy took advantage of her cause she's drunk, can you give me the room number. After slight hesitation and asking me to provide a phone number they pointed me to the room. My heart raced as I turned a couple corners now knowing what I was going to find. I knocked on the door and tried to channel Eddie again "room service. I mentioned in the most pleasant tone I could muster while hiding my anger and rage. A male answered that I must have the wrong room. Immediately my cover was blown, I think I have the right f. ing room! How about you open up so we can have a conversation. My cheating spouse starts texting me, finally found out, the jig is up. She says she wants to talk in the morning, and that she refuses to come out of the room. (oh ok, stay the rest of the night with your lover, got it. I linger for about an hour just to see if they'll come out, at this place the restrooms are in the hallways European style, but neither person emerged and I gave up. I went and took photos of her car for some kind of proof, and went home heartbroken to a sleepless night. She asked me to meet her in a public park where she knew there'd be people. She actually said that. Oh ok, never ever laid a finger on you or raised my voice at you in 20 years, but now domestic violence is a concern. Making her wait I get to the park a few minutes late and realize that my expectations are still off. Even though I got the coldest shoulder the night before I was ready to make this work, to fix it. I came with a forgiving heart expecting remorse, surely my wife of 10-11 years wouldn't gaslight our whole existence. She's in tears, says she's sorry, looks like the whole time she's just sorry she was caught. Told her how I found out and she smirked at it! We discussed her coming home and I was both appalled and mesmerized to hear "I just can't go back to the way things were, I'm so trapped there. 3. oh ok, so she's the victim, riiiiiiight) She spent three days in a hotel downtown, presumably just spending time with her lover, trying to decide if she should come back home. The AP was in a relationship too, has a 12 year old son, and maybe that baggage was too much for her. She came home. Completely listless for a week, would hardly speak to me, demanded we sleep in separate bedrooms. Claims she'll work on this but just needs space after all she's been through. She's done seeing the do the "right" thing and start marital counseling. Session one: No further details come up, I ask for transparency and I've been going nuts researching affairs on the internet. She just maintains she can't go back to the way things were but in no way can verbalize why our life wasn't happy or fulfilling enough and what is meant by her statement. Luckily for me, the therapist spots something and poignantly asks "You've ended the affair, right. SHOCK AND AWE! She hadn't! Well uhh, I was going to call him and let him know, but I haven't yet. As I began the slow troll into the trickle truth she confessed somewhat that she'd been with for at least one year prior. It was unbeknownst to me utterly and completely. Still happy in the bedroom, and she manipulated me with gifts. At one point she gave me a watch that was engraved on the underside "loving you more every second. She'd remember to send me texts and call when out of town on business/affair frolicking. Eventually I'm just a ball of tears and weighing my options of going to jail, just getting out of this crap right now, or sticking in the marriage I am so committed to. I love this woman with every ounce of my being. Session two: Transparency is abysmal, in fact my wife has turned off location sharing on all devices and changed all her passwords to everything. (oh ok, how dare I ask for such a thing when she's so damaged and in mourning. Cheating ex asks for an open relationship and that'll fix everything. I'm appalled, and desperate, and just in a terrible mental state and shamefully I agree. I think I secretly know that it's over but don't know how to get my physical self to agree. The therapist corners her saying she needs to break it off with the AP, still no word on that, and that polyamory might not be healthy at this point in our relationship. My ex vows never to go back to therapy because that lady was "mean to her. oh ok, starting to see a pattern here. I cry every night deep and terrible sobs. This woman who loved me and shared the utmost intimacy, all of the sudden doesn't want anything to do with me. We pass each other around the house like ghosts of our former selves. I yell and scream at the world randomly from time to time, it's the darkest period I can recall in my life. We have sex, I think it's makeup sex, but when we're done she says she just needed to get off and that we never really loved each other. Ouch. (oh ok, here I thought we had a great relationship that never lost its spark, we were intimate in the bedroom 2-4 times a week always) I make a move, maybe it's a mistake. I download Tinder and go on a couple dates. I actually tell the people I'm married and probably getting a divorce. I was super transparent before meeting up with these people. One told me if I finalized the divorce to give her a call cause I'm a great guy. The other took me home to her bed. I wished I would've have waited, simply because this gave my ex firepower and mild justification for the affair. We'll get to that in a brief moment, I'm almost done with the crazy train. The same weekend she goes on an overt camping trip with her AP, tells me about it in the name of transparency. Meanwhile doesn't validate anything else I'm asking about. It was this setup that made me continue to feel worthless and why I slept with the Tinder fling. By Monday I've had enough, astonishingly I'm still willing to work through it and repair the marriage that isn't there. WS goes on a "business" trip and at this point I really have no idea what's going on, there's absolutely zero trust. I call her and demand "You leave this man, you commit to loving me, you rebuild this trust immediately or I'm leaving before you get home. She responded that she just wasn't sure she could do alllll those things. It is no longer a marriage but a disaster that needs a clean up crew. While she's away I pack all my necessary belongings, grab the dog, and move in with some friends. She really didn't think I'd do it: She called me sobbing that night, why had I moved my stuff out? Total trip to crazy town. I told her she'd better act soon, that after nearly two months of dealing with this she needed to make a decision. I could no longer live with her as part of this situation and that time is expiring shortly. I told her more than likely in two months or less I'd probably be firmly planted in the divorce camp. That she'd done nothing to work toward my side and done nothing but make abusive comments with her selfishness and endless need to be validated by men. She responded to this by telling me it was my fault for finding out about the affair. In her words she wasn't looking for a way out, but would've played the good housewife role for the rest of our lives if I just wouldn't have found out. I was sickened and almost driven mad by what I heard on the phone. Who was this person I thought I knew? Who I shared my life with? Who valued me so little that I was a throw away object or at most only there to placate her wants and desires. She back pedaled and exclaimed, this could be a good thing, we'll grow into something new and we'll go on dates together and be excited to see each other again. If it's meant to be, then we'll get back together" Seriously wtf? Even in this state I knew relationships are something you work at, and that love is a practice, and I was getting none of that from this horrific shell of a human being. About a week later I tried meeting up with her, she said she wanted to discuss the divorce. It really just ended up being her wanting to flirt with me and then control my advances. She'd say how much she cared about me, but if I tried to touch her leg she'd say she wasn't ready for that yet. Since I had moved out, she insanely also moved out and was paying double rent by getting a nice city apartment just a couple blocks from the bar we happened to be at. When I offered to walk her home she scoffed and said she'd be fine and also wasn't ready for me to see her new place. (oh ok, so been your husband nearly 11 years, together for 20 and now I can't touch your leg or walk you home. Alone with the dog, in my new rented room at my friends, I bit the pillow hard and sobbed harder that night than ever in my life. It wasn't wants or desires this time, but I knew it was over, truly over. I knew the woman I loved was gone, maybe the rose tinted glasses were lifted, but I knew it would be in my best interest to never interact with this person again and cut them out of my life. I was devastated, because I truly and deeply gave my love to this person and thought all these years it had been reciprocated. As my therapist and many on here have told me, I was the lobster in a pot. I didn't see the red flags when she hated on my friends, or told me her friends hated me. I didn't see the red flags when she'd buy me close and parade me like a trophy (oh ok, well I'm kinda fit and handsome. I didn't see the red flags when she started traveling endlessly for work. Nor did I see them when I asked her how she really felt, and if there was anything that could make our relationship better. Part of it is the eyes of love, and part of it was her nasty manipulation that I couldn't see until now. Nothing was ever enough for her. Not my job, not our house we owned, not the work I did on the house. It was all a ruse that fit perfectly with my codependency. I wanted to fix things, and to be "good enough" and she was very capable at causing enough disaster and dangling enough carrots to keep me engaged. I wasn't looking to have love reciprocated but to love her so much it was enough for both of us. With my head clear, I resolved that the divorce was going to happen and with her crazy attitude it meant I was filing all the paperwork. I wish I could end this mega rant here, but you've only seen the awakening this far, the claws are about to come out. We hadn't spoken in three weeks and I felt like I was making the right decisions in my life. I'm surrounded by friends, moving forward, and gaining some clarity. I've realized the trap that I was in and made a firm decision to not get back together. *RING! RING. Oh who could that be? It's my WS, we were supposed to meet for coffee to discuss the divorce and entangling paperwork. She tells me she can't make it at the designated time but to text her two hours later and we can meet up. Fine. I follow suit, jumping through more hoops, and upon texting she tells me she's up at the nearby family mountain cabin and that I SHOULD COME UP FOR THE WEEK AND STAY WITH HER! oh ok, I'll just cast aside all my integrity and small amount of self respect I just discovered to jump back in the sack. Hell NO! We won't go! I declined the invitation after stating the importance of working through the divorce process. She gets flustered, and somehow kind of angry that I'm not willing to drop everything in my life and come running up to the cabin. I ask her what about the AP and her response is he broke up with her as soon as I was out of the picture. Karma is fickle creature sometimes I guess. We finally meet for coffee and I bring all the documents, gushing comments pour out from her about how good I look and how well I seem to be doing. Nope, I'm freaking devastated and this isn't a game to me lady, what's up? We cover the details about splitting up the house of which she says she's entitled to more than half, I'm not to touch her 401K and as a "compromise" I get to keep my business untouched that I worked my tail off on building for 10 years. I'm going to stay on her healthcare for the duration of the divorce, and we'll tidy this situation up as fast as possible. As I turn to make my exit she pursues and follows me to my car murmuring about things. Spinning on my heel I ask if she has anything to say for herself. Frantically I'm searching for remorse, perhaps a splinter of a shred of the person I thought loved me. It spouts out in a phrase more akin to a question than an answer: I'm so. I'm sorrrrrry. For what. I retort. "For. uhh. I'm sorry for what I did. The words trailed off as if released by the smallest church mouse in Zootopia. It was a benign effort that reeked not of remorse in action but shell shock from being caught. In a way it was helpful, it let me know that my assumptions were now correct and that I knew where I stood. She wasn't sad because of anything she did, only that she had lost me as an asset with her cover blown and now wanted this man back in her life who at one time would do absolutely anything for her. It was the only apology I would ever receive. She asks me what our narrative is going to be and I pause trying to discern the question. "yeah, like, what are we going to tell people. What are we going to say happened, that maybe we just mutually decided to see other people or something, what's our story. Oh, ok, holy shit! Yeah our story, well you can say whatever you want but I'm absolutely going to tell the truth to anyone who will listen. That IS what happened, you broke my heart, you stepped out on marriage, and now you want your cake. I've had enough and I don't need to create a story to feel better about myself. K, byeeee" I turn and walk away and as soon as I cross the street a train comes ending our conversation. I immediately get in my car and text all her family about the end of the marriage and why I happened. No for real, we're talking wolverine claws. I felt good about shutting the door, knowing there was no healthy way to patch things up and realizing it wasn't a healthy relationship in the first place. As the divorce process took shape other tragedies began to fall my way. I was hit with a full double barrel shotgun. Right before DDay about three months earlier when my WS was out on one of her trips for work or sexual affairs our house flooded on Super Bowl Sunday. I went to a friends house and came home to find a half a foot of water in our garage. Supposedly she was in Amsterdam where some field offices were, but when I called to tell her about the disaster it sounded like she was right next door. Either way she just starts yelling at me to fix it, of course that's what I'm doing. Had I been smart I would've ran to Home Depot the last few minutes they were open and grabbed a sump pump to drain the driveway. Luckily our garage was attached to a finished basement and was the lowest point on the property. However, water has totally invaded the garage and almost breached the step up to gain entry into the house. I call a friend who's a landscape architect and handy in kinds of ways. We fill sand bags until midnight but record rain is thwarting us as we go. We've saved the property for a few minutes but with record rain fall that year it's about to crest through. We come up with an idea to siphon the water from the driveway into my basement utility room where the drain is. We grab 60 foot garden hoses and I start pulling with my lungs to draw the water over. It works! Besides getting a mouthful of ground water I get a nice steady stream flowing to the drain at gallons per minute. The driveway doesn't recede, but it doesn't overflow anymore. This gave me some time to bail calf deep water around the house, using a shop vac I pull up about 5 gallons at a time and heave it over. We have one gutter leaking and instead of going to the French drain it's pouring into the driveway! I start filling a huge garbage can that has to be emptied every 3 hours or it fills with rain water. I'm soaked, I'm in the rain and water and no sleep for 24 hours. When I do sleep I set an alarm to get up and bail to make sure no damage happens. The next morning I fly to Home Depot and grab an electric pump, it literally saves the day. This tiny 50 or less pump diverts over 3000 gallons of water in an hour, in about 3 hours it's completely moved the driveway down the street to run off. Yep, had nearly 9000 gallons sitting on my driveway, calf to knee deep. The same day I go into work and see my landlord for the business, he runs a construction company and I lament my tale. He immediately calls his disaster team and sends home FREE industrial dehumidifiers to soak up any water from the drywall and the structure. I leave these running for a couple days, pump is still going in the driveway when my WS comes home. She starts to tell me that I was stressing her out with this situation and should've waited to tell her when she got back. (oh ok, thought you'd want to know about possibly losing the house and almost causing 40K in potential damages) Then she proceeded to state that the pump in the driveway is like soooo embarrassing and that if I don't move it she will. Mind you it's still raining, still trying to flood the house and my neighbors have even come over to offer help. I come home from a morning appointment and find the pump moved to the garage. WTF? Eventually I get the guttered repaired and it stops raining enough to let the water recede. About a week later on the nose I come down with an awful flu I can't shake. On any regular spring Saturday I start taking in movies and resting. Mid afternoon my chest starts to really hurt and won't subside despite over the counter medication. I mention to my WS what's going on and I think it's getting serious. "Can't you take of yourself, ugh! Well I'm not driving you to the urgent care, I'll go with you but I'm not driving. Fine, I'll drive myself to the hospital, thanks for coming with me, that's so gracious of you sweetie. I get to the ER at the hospital and get all checked in. When I arrive they notice my Oxygen has dipped a little bit but nothing alarming. We wait for over 3 hours and my chest is pounding, it's getting hard to breathe. My ex refuses to ask anyone to see me so I stumble to the front desk and almost fall over. They say they'll get to me and put me in a wheelchair. Finally someone comes and takes more vitals but don't really get to the root of the problem. I say I think I have pneumonia, my chest hurts and I can't breathe. They downplay it and say probably not but move me to a stretcher in an unoccupied room. I wait about another hour and at this point I'm really confused and barely breathing. My ex is just staring at me with dagger eyes and totally unhelpful. I literally start yelling "Help! someone help me. over and over again much to this woman's chagrin. I don't care. I feel like I'm dying. I am dying. After about 3-5 minutes of this someone comes in upset that I'm yelling but then agrees to look me over. Turns out my oxygen has dropped to around 50% which is life threatening on its own and my blood has nearly turned septic. I have bacterial pneumonia, I most likely developed it when I swallowed that bit of ground water in my mouth saving the house. She never thanked me. She actually said she deserved more than half of the house and should probably just take it all. After being put on all kinds of fluids they gave me a morphine drip to help with the chest pains. With comfort I go in and out of consciousness and as I peer up from the stupor I catch her gaze. This soulless human being looks back with eyes that wish I would have died right there. Life insurance would sure be a huge boon to this woman, we have million dollar policies. It was then that I spotted it, the major red flag. I knew something was up and even though I caught her accidentally, I started keeping records of things she'd say or people she'd say she was with. They didn't add up and in my heart I knew something was off. The icing on the cake was that the rounds of antibiotics I would take combined with the stress of the divorce among other things wiped out my gut bacteria. I would spend the next year finding out that I have small intestinal bacteria overgrowth (SIBO) Now back to the divorce in progress: I think that back story is important, because along with the previous conversations it lays the ground work to the events that would happen next. In brief detail I'll innumerate them here for context: After our meeting where I was given the weakest attempt at an apology in the history of language, and I told her family about the affair my ex set a few things in motion. First she made a point to tell people who were acquaintances and her immediate family that I was a deadbeat, a non contributor to the relationship emotionally and financially. She had said she always wanted kids and that I didn't, and that she was scared because I was borderline abusive. Because of this I still either explain the situation or cut people out of my life who won't listen to my side of the story. The truth is the opposite of course, she maintained for decades that she never wanted children and any time I brought it up created a major fight. Her family took her side of course and I lost relationships that I thought were MY family in the last 20 years. Nope, just went total no contact. Luckily most of our friends who really knew us abandoned her and realized what she was doing. Once my ex heard about my gut bacteria and all my medical troubles she called to say that we should be friends and that she would make sure I stayed on our insurance through her work. She asked to meetup again and I declined knowing she wanted to rekindle the feels. As soon as I hung up she began forging documents and turned in a letter of "legal separation" to HR to ban me from insurance. Rapidly I found out at various doctors appointments something was wrong with my coverage. All they would tell me is the policy was cancelled. I did my best to get Cobra insurance but they could never activate it even though I was willing to fork over the 800 bucks a month. It was a nightmare paying out of pocket and calling back and forth, I would call my ex and see would lament that she had no idea what was going on. Eventually I got the right person at HR and they told me they couldn't setup Cobra because they were looking for the judge who signed the legal separation documents my ex submitted. Appalled, further devastated, I asked them to define exactly what they meant. My ex had forged a court document, signed a false name where the Judge's credentials would go and submitted it to HR to illegally remove me from insurance pre divorce! I exclaimed that they'd never find the judge and what they were holding was fraudulent, we had never been in court together or filed any legal document of separation. OMG! HR panicked like you've never seen and retroactively gave me back my insurance for all the time lost. That's also why I couldn't get the Cobra insurance because they were waiting for this imaginary judge to confirm the legality of it all. I texted my ex furious that she'd better call HR and hasten the process and she played dumb "well we are separated, I just don't want to do anything illegal. Such BS, we'd meet a week later and she'd hand me Cobra documents in my lawyers office to feign offering help after the fact. She sold the house! Good for her! Except she sold it out from under me! She signed my name on all the documents, and never even gave me final amount. I had to find out through my lawyer and the discovery process. Yeah, that hurt too. She tried to attack my business and only left it alone because I said I'd go after her 401k. In hindsight I wish I would've. Her retirement fund was basically OUR retirement fund and there were conversations like I'd buy all the groceries because she was making contributions to our future. Being self employed my job didn't have that feature, while I was saving for retirement it wasn't the matched account she had the privilege of building. She was totally ready to devastate my business too, but fortunately for me she was too cheap to hire a lawyer and mine protected my assets and let her know that any judge would let me keep it AND take her 401k if I wanted it. To this day she has continued to tell people I never wanted kids, and my poor mother just tears up at that fact because she knows it was the other way around. In further attempt to prove her ridiculous narrative she is now pregnant with the AP's kid. That's right they're still together even though she told me they had separated when we did. Turns out she waited about six months and then introduced this guy to the family as the "new" beau. He's an improv comic hobbyist:D lol - but he works a day job, and that's where they met through her work. I found all this out because one of his friends FB cyber stalked me and just sent me the nicest message saying he was sorry about everything and that they're both disgusting people. This April, yes, two years later, I see these weird charges from the IRS to the tune of 12, 000 go through my bank account. The numbers don't make sense and I call the bank and my accountant. You guessed it, my dearly departed ex used MY checking account to pay off her taxes. Oopsies! I give her 24 hours to return the funds or I'm claiming fraudulent charges. In hindsight I wish I would've and let the IRS penalize her into oblivion for it. We texted back and forth, she won't apologize for it of course and asks why I'm so upset. IT gets really stupid and I finally declare that I know who the AP is and maybe his friends shouldn't contact me online. She doesn't say anything about this situation and the only response I ever receive is "who have you been talking to. All this, and there's light at the end of the tunnel. Besides this person I cared deeply about at one point in my life trying to invoke wrath and scorn to the limits of human tolerance, I'm here today to tell you I made it! Not only did I survive all this because I'm a champ, but I'm better off for it! The most obvious thing is you the Redditor are probably as sick and disgusted with this lady as I am. Human beings like this shouldn't be alive and they certainly shouldn't bear children. This journey became so much more than that and has vaulted me to a new level of growth I am ecstatic about. Shortly after beginning therapy I discovered that I am a fixer. I grew up in a home where I was devalued and my spouse fit right into that mold like a jigsaw piece. It felt like home, all her unquenchable demands and hoops to jump through. I was always shifting my self and trying to be the person I thought would make her happy while never being true to myself. Clearly, that strategy didn't work and set me up for failure laid out here. Because I was donating love without ever having concern for receiving it in return, one of the toughest lessons I had to walk through was dividing my ex from my own self worth. Someone else here recently made a post and it clicked for me: I had loved her for so long and so truly that I had prescribed a certain amount of my own self worth from our relationship. When that was severed, I unknowingly felt like my value had diminished. That I needed to prove myself to my ex, or somehow I was worth more when she was with me. What a tragic statement, andI couldn't even put my finger on that until recently. Not knowing myself I never learned to be comfortable in my wants, goals and desires. I never learned to be comfortable in my accomplishments and my missteps. Late to this party I never learned what my value to others could possibly be and just buried it all under the guise of trying to be "good enough" for others to like me. I was always outgoing and socially fun, but it didn't come from the right place. Now I can see the red flags in people, I understand what I bring to the table and what I want in this world. In the past year I have grown so much in all these regards, I've discovered who my true friends and family are and I'm beyond words with how much I appreciate them in my life. I met someone, a fine woman, who has her priorities in the right place. We love each other in a full reciprocated way, she shares my accomplishments with pride and shoulders the burden of obstacles together. She treats those around her including me with empathy and kindness on a foundation of strong resolve under these values. I feel truly blessed to know her and continue life's adventure with this young passionate woman. We recently bought a camper van and for my 40th birthday are taking a cross country road trip. It's all I could ask for and more, because it's filled with nuance that I would be incapable of knowing to ask for in my previous relationship. I could leave a rant as long as this mini novel here on all the simple and beautiful gestures she has bestowed on me. In the past year my business has grown by leaps and bounds, I'm free to make decisions about it without fear of shame or scorn from my partner. I'm also able to take pride in what I've created and I can work on it as ardently as I want or take a break and let my staff handle the day to day if I choose. It's a great place to be, and far better than it really was a few years ago when I thought I was in a happy marriage. For the first time in 30 years I'm about to celebrate and enjoy my own birthday. It seems so small when I write it out, but it's a major milestone for me to a accept who I am and be content in that. If you read all this, bless your heart and curiosity and the support you're giving in allowing me to share this openly and freely. I'm not sure if this post will help anyone, but it helped me and the cathartic process of shedding the betrayal caused by a human monster. tl:dr - Hey it's a rant! Oh Ok, so the nitty gritty: Wife of 10 years, gf for 20, and high school sweet heart had epic year long affair without my knowledge. I almost died of pneumonia and DD hit a month later when I found out. She continued the betrayal by sticking the knife in every chance she could get by trying to stop me from realizing she sold our house, stealing from my checking account, illegally removing me from health insurance, and using my money to pay her IRS taxes two years later. I'm in a much better place without being strapped to this demon and I've grown as a person more than I ever have previously in my life in the last two years. I also found a great life partner and am about to embark on great adventures with a person who treats me right and values me for me.

Have any of you had sleep paralysis? That in between stage where youre not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You cant move, you can hallucinate, and youll often have feelings of dread. Ive suffered from it since I was a kid, probably about eight years old or so. The doctors told my parents I may grow out of it, a lot of kids do eventually. Im looking for answers and about what happened to me as a kid and its because of the man in between the walls and sleep paralysis I know I suffered from sleep paralysis before this event, but the first time I can actually remember is when I first met * him. I woke up in a cold sweat, my limbs are locked into place, no matter how hard I try I cant make a sound, then comes the feelings of terror – of * knowing* something is there watching me. The dread raises up, almost seeming to start at my feet, and I feel it slowly overtake my whole body. I want nothing more than to scream, to cry, to end this experience, I was sure I would die. And then I see a movement from a shadowed wall across from my bed. The best way I can describe what he did is he was standing against the wall, but standing on his hands with his face facing the wall, legs straight up in the air, he brought his legs down in a forward motion. He landed with his legs on the ground putting him in position reverse of a spider, back pointed to the ground head facing up, and started to crawl to the bed. He stopped right next to me and then brought his head up putting him in a normal standing position, he proceeded to crawl into bed with me. He cradled me like a baby, putting his cheek against my face and rubbing the other cheek with his hand. “Dont worry David, I wont leave you. Youre mine, all mine, ” he said, I could smell his breath, and it was rotten. It smelled like how road kill did when it was several days old. With that he rolled out of my bed and onto the floor landing on all fours, this time more like a dog, and scurried to the wall he came from. As quickly as he had come, he seemed to flatten into a man shaped shadow and slipped under the wall. The second he was gone I was released from my torture, I screamed at the top of my lungs. Even though you can hallucinate during sleep paralysis my parents took me very seriously, they did not want to take a chance with a potential killer or abductor being able to get into our house. So the police were called, but were not of much help. When they found out about my condition they pretty much wrote off the entire story. Nevertheless, my parents decided to install bars on my windows. They were nice, sturdy, thick bars that reminded me of jail cells I had seen on TV. They made me feel safe. Some time passed, much of this is blurry to me like any memories from 20 years ago would be, but the next incident… I remember that like it was yesterday. I woke up to the normal feelings of being wrapped up by an invisible blanket that was wound so tight I could barely breath. And then the feelings of dread came, and with them came the man in between the walls. I saw the shadow, it came out from underneath the wall touching the roof this time. The shadow popped out raggedly, first I see flat arms inflate, next his legs pop out like balloons, his abdomen, and finally his head. He crawled along the ceiling like a spider until he reached me, he dropped his feet first but as the rest of his body followed in bent in a weird unnatural way so he could mold his body to mine as he dropped, ultimately holding me in that cradling position again. This time he traced my lips with one finger and said, “David, David, did you think bars could keep me from you? Youre mine and your parents know it. They just wont tell you, ask them David. Ask them about Jenny. ” And with that he slithered out of my bed, body moving unnaturally again as he made his way like a snake to my wall, were he flattened out and went under again. The second he was gone I let out an ear shattering scream. My parents held me as I cried insisting the cops would be called the next day. But then I asked, ”Whos. ” my voice wavered as I took a second to draw the energy needed, “whos Jenny? ” And with the mentioning of that name I swear my parents went bone white. After several moments looking at each other with a frightened look on both faces they insisted, “We dont know a Jenny son, ” my dad says with a slight quiver to his voice. Months pass again, I know during this time is when I started referring to him as the man in between the walls, though only in my head as I refused to acknowledge his existence out loud. I wanted to ask my parents about Jenny again, I knew there was something more there from their reactions, but could never build up the courage to. Months after the last incident would be the last time I see the man in between the walls for several years. I woke up unable to move and I knew what was to come, and as the dread filled me I saw him. This time the shadows seem to ooze form the ceiling, going down the wall like water would. They mix together on the floor and the shape of a man rises out of it. Hes facing away from me but then does something to intensify my fear ten fold, his head slowly turns to face me while the rest of his body faced the wall. With his head turned unnaturally back to watch me he walks to the bed backwards. He slides in from the foot of the bed, more like a liquid than anything else, and cradles me again. “You know, ” he says as that rotten smell over whelms me, “you know they are lying. They promised you to me years ago and I intend to collect. ” He strokes my face several times before seeming to turn to liquid again and running down out of my bed. I see the fluid shadow liquid make its way across my room and back under my wall. An ear piercing scream sounds throughout the house. After the normal routine of calling the cops, again to no consequence since the cops were convinced I was just a kid seeing things, my parents put me back to bed checking all throughout my room to make sure no one was there. I could never fall asleep the nights I had sleep paralysis and that night I saw a soft glow from my window. I crept to the window to check it out, I see my parents in the backyard burning something. Eight years pass without incident, and although I could recall the nights with the man in between the walls with perfect clarity, I had chosen to try and never think of them again. I buried them as deep in my mind as I could, but I could never have guessed I wasnt done with him yet. I can recall this night with perfect clarity too, much clearer than other memories from when I was sixteen. I woke up unable to move, memories of him flooded back, the dread came. This time I saw my wall be ripped wide open, the house seemed to be collapsing as the wall tore apart and slowly opened. I wondered how my parents werent running into the room to come to my aid. A huge shadow snake slithered out, bigger than any snake alive today, it curled up at the foot of my bed before slithering under the covers. It wrapped around me like it was going to crush and then consume me, then the shadow seemed to become less defined, like a cloud, when it reshaped it was him and he was cradling me. “Your parents, they dont want to pay up. They tried to cut the connection, but I cant have that. I found my way back to you because youre mine! What was promised with blood can never be undone. ” As he finished he became the shadow cloud again, then the snake, the snakes head forced its way into my mouth, then it slowly brought its entire body inside me and with one last breath I black out. I woke up in a hospital bed, parents at my side. The first and last thing to come out of my mouth was, “Whos Jenny? ” I wake up again, this time with a much clearer head, the first thing I notice is my parents arent there this time. Theres a call button next to me and I press it. A couple nurses come running in and yelling, they check over the machines connected to me as my parents were called. I was discharged a week later. I have never seen the man in between the walls again, and I never found out who Jenny was. I havent experienced sleep paralysis since then either. Ive done a lot of research though, and met with a lot of shady groups. I think my parents were part of a cult and promised me to some entity, maybe during some type of ritual. Im constantly searching for answers, but one thing I know for sure is even though I havent seen the man in between the walls since, he lives inside of me. I can feel him, I can feel that rotten breath sometimes deep down. In my soul. Last time I told the story of how I met the man in between the walls, this time Id like to share some of what Ive found in the decade since then. When I was eight and everything happened I wanted nothing more than to forget it all, push it to the furthest corners of my mind and pretend it never happened. After the man in between the walls became a part of me I now wanted nothing more than to rid myself of him, I could feel him in there. Its the weirdest thing, I can feel him breath. It fills my lungs, the smell invades my nostrils – the smell of rot, of death. Starting my search I knew I had only one thing to go on, “Jenny”. The name the man in between the walls said, the name my parents seemed so afraid of. I decided not to ask them about the name again though, I didnt want them to guess I was prying into things they obviously wanted to be buried. I started with the only thing I could think of, I checked our backyard where I had seen them burning something in the middle of night all those years ago. I had never really noticed before, but where I was sure they had the fire that night, the grass was dead. It was just a perfect circle of yellow-brown grass, the same height as the rest of the grass implying it still grew as it had been mowed. I dug around with my hands for a bit, pulling up clumps of grass, but the soil underneath seemed normal enough. I pulled out a small bag I had brought out and stuffed some of the dead grass inside. This would be the first of many odd things Id find on my journey to the truth, the next day the grass had grown back to be level with the rest. It was still a dead yellow-brown color. I checked my bag and upon opening it I recognized the putrid smell, it was the same smell as the breath from the man in between the walls. Gagging I closed up the bag and hid it away in one of my dresser drawers. My next step was breaking into my parents room one day after school while they both were at work to look through their things. At first glance I couldnt say I had found much, that was until I noticed a hidden compartment in their closet. It was so well integrated you almost couldnt tell there was something off about it. Feeling along the wall though I felt the smallest of indents, pushing on it a door opened up to a small space of probably around two square feet. Inside was a ragged looking doll that was extremely dirty, it had blonde hair that was so scarce I could barely determine what color it was. It had one black marble eye, and one blue one, the mouth was nothing but five small stitches forming something along the lines of “xxxxx” for the mouth. Next I found my first major clue to confirm my occult suspicions, an old photo. It depicted around a dozen people with plague doctor masks on standing around a fire. In the fire was an upside down wooden cross, tied around the top of it was a small girl of probably around fourteen. On the back of the photo was written one word, “MORSA”, which I later learned is Portuguese for “Walrus”. I did my best to put both items back exactly as I found them. I didnt really look much more into things for several years, mainly due to lack of any idea of what to be looking for. I tore my house apart only to not find anything else. Entering college I felt like the odd one out, after the incident three years earlier I became dark. I kind of started running with the metal heads and goth crowd, dressed in black and frequented Hot Topic, all that good stuff. The nice thing about college though is as long as you have a group to belong to - youll end up finding your people. And so I did, but it quickly became obvious they were much more extreme than the people I knew back in high school. Sex and drugs were now a major theme, it felt like I couldnt hang out with anyone without some MDMA or meth being pulled out. It was at one of these parties that I met *her. Amanda was her name and we quickly fell for each other, soon “group hangouts” became “us hangouts” and many became two. We still rolled a lot, but much less frequently. I had known her maybe a couple months when one day I randomly said “Morsa, ” without having much of a clue as to why besides the fact I had just smoked some weed. Amanda froze up for a second. “Whats wrong, ” I ask her inquisitively. “Why ‘Morsa? ” She asks me. I give a non committal nod, “I dunno, why not Morsa? ” I no longer remember how we got onto the subject of my parents but soon Im telling her how I think my parents were involved with the occult. I left out everything about the man in between the walls and instead made it sound like I stumbled upon the doll and photo by accident. I didnt see Amanda for several weeks after that and I became worried I had freaked her out, so I reached out to her. When she answered her phone I went on and on about how sorry I was if I freaked her out, after I was all done she only had one thing to say, “Would you like to know more about Morsa? ” We met up at the schools library, she looked so tired. “No offense but you look like crap, ” I remember saying. “I hadnt heard that word in years, when you said it it brought all these… Memories and feelings back. Memories I thought I had left behind long ago. ” Now sitting in our own little corner of the library she tells me, “When I was young we lived on a farm, my parents were very reclusive and I had learned to make the most out of the situation. I didnt really know there was anything odd about them until I started school. I learned my parents didnt act like the other kids parents did, other kids parents didnt dress up in odd costumes and meet out back in the potato fields, other kids parents didnt have huge fires once a month where you could smell the stench of burning flesh. ” She continued, “I was twelve when they took me away, it was a huge scandal that the town covered up. Kids, missing from all over the state, where found under our fields. But this… thing my parents were a part of went high up, were talking way up federal level high. Or at least thats what I figured when not a word of it got out. I remember when the investigator met with me, he told me to forget what happened if I knew what was best for me, he told me to never talk about ‘Morsa. ” She didnt have much more to add about that, she never really knew what exactly went on during the meetings and her parents never had talked about it around her. Amanda stopped attending class all together, I went on to date other girls and make new friends. I hear she eventually completely sobered up and is married now. After the Amanda saga of my life I dropped out of university to work and attend community college instead. I worked at an old thrift store, I chose this store to work at because they dealt in a lot of old historical merchandise. A couple years passed with little incident, but shortly after I turned twenty one someone came in to donate much of their recently deceased grandmas old possessions. The object of interest was an old journal with the word “morsa” written inside the front cover. I took the old book home instead of putting it in the back to be sorted and sold. The book contained what seemed to be odd rituals with no explanation of what they did, some drawings of what Id guess to be demons, but most importantly an old address. Hoping onto Google I found out it was about two hours from where I lived, so I planned a road trip for the weekend. I arrived at the address to find a broken down old home, I noted it seemed to be abandoned as I checked around the yard and looked through the windows. All the doors seemed to be dead bolted shut so I broke a window to get in. Lots of cob webs and some old dusty furniture greeted me as I looked around. I descended down some stairs which led to an equally decrepit basement. After a good hour looking around the house and then basement I found an old photo album with an inch thick layer of dust on it. My stomach dropped, inside was page after page, photo after photo, of people dressed in plague doctor masks. They stood around giant fires, inside dining rooms with feasts laid out before them, and most disturbingly in front of what looked like a mass grave of dozens of bodies being buried. I took the photo album to the police and told them the address I found it at, they told me theyd look into it. This may have been the biggest mistake of my life, soon I noticed every night there was an unmarked black car outside my apartment complex. It had never been there before this, and was never there during the day when I was out but would show up shortly after I got home. Just a few days later I found a note taped to my apartment door as I got home, opening it up it said “if youre smart youll forget about Morsa”. I hadnt thought of Amanda in a long time but her words were coming back to me, “there was a cover up, I think it may have gone up to a federal level. ” I shook my head, how could anyone tied to any of this know I had given that album and address to the cops? I started to become paranoid, always looking behind my back expecting to see the boogeyman. I quit my job at the thrift store shortly after this and dropped out of community college. The more paranoid I became the more I could feel the man between the walls inside me. I had learned to repress and ignore his breath, but now it was back stronger than ever. I could feel him using my paranoia to eat away at my soul. I descended further into madness. The next few months after this are a hazy blur of psychosis and alcohol. Nothing becomes clear until I woke up in a psychiatric hospital one day. Apparently I had been here weeks already, I was brought in by the cops when I stopped an old lady walking home to ramble and yell at her about “his breath” which she naturally called the police about. Im sure they were all too happy to drop me off here. I spent the next several weeks having medications changed and adjusted and attending groups and therapy. I stopped trying to tell them I wasnt crazy at a point, their minds were already made up from my previous weeks of acting like a lunatic. The medications did something amazing though, I couldnt feel the man in between the walls anymore. The next time I saw my doctor he informed me I had “schizoaffective” disorder. He told me Id have psychosis, paranoia, and delusions mixed in with bouts of depression or mania. After several more weeks I was finally discharged, when I returned home I found it ransacked. Someone had broken in and tore my apartment apart, of course nothing was missing since I didnt have anything linked to morsa. The only thing in my possession had been the old photo album. I shook my head as I started cleaning up, yeah doc tell me Im paranoid now. I noticed the black car didnt show up anymore, Im sure time in a psych ward and a diagnosis along with ran sacking my apartment so they saw I had nothing to link to morsa had helped calm their fears. Soon I moved to a town just twenty minutes from the house I found the album in. I wouldnt let them bully or scare me, I was determined to find out about my parents past, and Jenny. Of course at this time I didnt know there were no definitive answers to find, that I was committing to a life time of questions with no answers. The first thing I did in my new apartment was install hidden webcams connected to laptop that I was using as a server. I had a three terabyte hard drive connected up to it that would over write the oldest footage with new footage when it was filled up. I also got a dog, the sweetest pit bull youd ever meet, but she was big and scary looking which I hoped would help make any home invaders think twice before trying to snoop around. I got a new job, working at a Pizza Hut delivering pizzas and I started at a new community college. There was no way I was going to let these people ruin my future too. Shortly after uprooting my life and moving to be closer to the house where I found the photo album a man who went by the name John contacted me. Apparently he use to work for the police department that I delivered the photo album too. We arranged for me to meet him, though he insisted that I didnt tell a soul about the meet up. It was a cold winters day when I arrived at the Barnes and Noble, he wasnt hard to spot. He had the look of a man who had seen things, old and rugged with eyes that told you the man had long since given up on the innocence of mankind. I ordered a coffee from the small coffee shop inside and sat down next to him. “Werent followed were ya? ” He asked me. “Probably wouldnt know if I had been, ” I replied simply. He nodded. “Honest, I can respect that, ” he continued, “an old colleague of mine told me about the photo album you turned in, damn stupid of you. ” He said this with no sarcasm or irony, it was a simply statement. He knew I was a kid who simply hadnt known better, but probably should of. “You riled up some powerful people, people whod kill you, or me, in a heart beat to keep their secrets. Only reason youre still alive is they didnt deem you much of a threat, if someone isnt a threat it draws less attention to just let them be than to make them disappear and orchestrate a cover up. Youre a damn lucky kid I tell ya. ” I simply nod, he was right. “So, ” I start, “what did you have me meet you here to tell me? ” My question is simple and straight to the point. “Dont stop looking, ” his eyes seem to shift out of focus like hes remembering something that happened long ago. He continues with that same spaced out look, “Not many officers left who remember Morsa, most are old and retired like me. Probably a hair smarter though seeing theyre not here talking to you, but I cant pass on without making sure theres someone left to dig up the dirt. It was a scandal bigger than any before it, of such large proportion it makes Watergate look like kid stuff. The powers that be probably had to use every ounce of influence they had to make sure the public never get a breath of information about it. Many good officers that didnt know when to stop looking ended up dead. There was always an excuse of course, random drive by shooting, arrest gone wrong, hit by a drunk driver, you name it. ” His eyes seemed to come back into focus as he peered into mine, “And I tell ya most were damn good men, just couldnt let something so evil go. ” I stop him, “This is interesting and all but I didnt come here to hear about this, I want… No, need* to know what “Morsa” was. ” He laughed a small laugh, “Dont be in such a hurry to hear what I know, but if you insist, ” he took a deep breathe, “I dont know much, you wont get any definitive answers from me, but what I do know is they were a powerful group and not all politicians and business men like youd think. Plenty of every day unassuming Joes must of been in it. I know of the farm were all the bodies were found, I know it spelled the beginning of the end for the group or at least the end of how they existed at the time. Dozens of bodies were found on that farm, I saw some photos. Disgusting shit I tell ya, decapitated children. Men with their privates cut off and drained of all their blood from their neck, if you can name an act thats sick a depraved it was found. The FBI came a knocking around our town and the old couple that lived in that house disappeared over night and left everything behind. Some old rich suit came up and bought it and left everything as it was. ” He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Seems as soon as they came around they disappeared, the FBI that is, from what I heard the whole case was called off and closed but they couldnt take away what we learned during that short time they were here. It wasnt much, but it was enough to garner interest. Of course when all the deaths started anyone with half a brain stopped asking questions and looking around. What I know though is a cult, a huge one spanning the entire country and with hundreds of members, called “Morsa” had performed lots of sacrifices. Sick shit, some of them even gave up their own kids. Weird shit too, lots of demons and spirits, they worshiped some god they called ‘The Elder One Above All. They also had some weird ass word for it that I could never remember, Arabic or some crap. This town was apparently pretty important to them, I have a feeling if someone dug up the yard of that house you visited a lot more bodies would be added to their kill count. ” He seemed to be finished, “Is that it? ” I ask. He nods, “Its all I know, told ya it wasnt much, I dont think anyone outside the cult knows much more than that. But I shared what I know and I have a favor in turn, why are you looking into it? Whats important enough to risk your life? ” I take a deep breath and say, “I think my parents were part of it and I think I was part of some ritual. When I was a kid I experienced night terrors, this demon entity would terrorize me. I think he was planning to take me but then my parents burned something and he went away for years. Then he returned one night and… Became a part of me for lack of a better way to explain it. I think whatever they did made him unable to kill me directly so now he lives in me waiting for my death so he can take my soul. Or at least thats my best guess. I went snooping around after that and found a doll and old picture of people in plague doctor masks around a fire hidden by my parents and on the back of the picture was the word ‘Morsa. ” I finish trying to hold back tears and keep my resolve up, I dont think hed appreciate me crying much. He takes a moment to soak this in before nodding, “Keep an eye out in the news, ” he said sadly before getting up and walking out. Sure enough three days later I recognized his face on the evening news, dead from a supposed stroke. After the meeting with John my life got busy, between work and school I buried myself trying to put as much mental distance between myself and Morsa as possible. I just needed a break from it, the man in between the walls had started to invade my every waking thought, my every breath. The medications, which I was still taking, kept it from personally intruding, however, they had drawbacks all their own. This was all until about a year after I met John an, opportunity was dropped into my lap, this girl I had casually started seeing mentioned her grandpa was a shaman of sorts. Self proclaimed, of course, but I wasnt in a position to question anothers attachment to more fantastical things. I told her I was really into that type of stuff myself and asked if she could setup some type of meeting between us. She was more than happy to oblige, I could tell she took it as me wanting to meet her family and maybe become a bit more serious but I decided to let her think whatever it took to meet the guy. I sat down across a table from her uncle, whos name turned out to be Ado. He was probably around 59” and you could tell Native American blood ran strong in his veins. “So, youre Rachels new boyfriend? ” Ado asks looking comfortable in his surroundings. “Yes sir, but honestly I didnt come here to meet the family. Im going to be blunt with you, what do you know about demons? ” I ask intently. He studies me as he takes a sip of his drink, “Not gonna lie, that isnt a very common question. I guess you should start by better defining a ‘demon” I go into my story, making sure to carefully phrase everything as to not mention any parts about murders, at the end of it he had a very concerned look on his face. He starts, “Ive always had a very liberal view on spirits and magic. I honestly dont think demons or rituals exist before we make them exist. We give power to these rituals, we create the monsters that lurk among us. ” I take this in for a second, “So youre telling me if I perform a ritual to rid myself of this demon as long as I really believe in what Im doing itll be gone? ” Ado shakes his head, “Not at all. This ‘Morsa”, they created whatever has taken residence in you (though they wouldnt realize their beliefs are what actually birthed it) and it more than likely exists within the rules they set for it. This thing could be extremely powerful, or not powerful at all. It could be rid of in two hours, or never. Personally Id start with your parents, if they took part in all this they may know how to rid you of it. ” I shake my head downheartedly, I had barely talked to my parents since graduating high school, it was their fault I was in any of this mess and I had found it hard to forgive them once I stopped living under their roof. No, I wasnt going to open a relationship back up with them. Honestly Id rather die and rot in Hell with the man in between the walls than seek out their help. “Is there anything you can do to help me, Ado? ” he continues to study me as I ask this question. “I can sense a dark presence within you, I could feel it damper the house as you walked in. No, no I have never dealt in such things. I dabble in some minor protection rituals, periodic cleansings, but nothing that can help what you have, ” as he says this I feel like I might cry, and I must have looked it too as he continues after faltering for a second, “I truly am sorry and wish there was more I could do, but to give you any hope would be cruel in ways most people could never understand but I sincerely hope you do. ” Several months pass as I consider opening up more broad communications with my parents again. At the end of the day they may be the only people with any information that may help me. I went for a drive around town one day, to clear my head and think about things, when the next thing I knew I was turning onto the freeway that started the journey to see my parents. I guess subconsciously my brain had decided things for me. My parents shower me in hugs and kisses which I do my best to ignore while keeping a neutral face as possible. “Mom, dad, its time you tell me about Jenny, ” and with that I explain about seeing the fire that night, of what happened when I was sixteen, of how the man in between the walls lives inside me now. My parents faces looked as white as ghosts. Completely ignoring the part about Jenny my mom starts, “You have to understand David, we were young and impressionable. Some guy likes all the land we own and shows us some magic, amazes us beyond our wildest dreams, and we were so eager to join. So eager to gain power. We realize now they targeted people like us, young and stupid, with land for them to do whatever on and kids for sacrificing. So much easier to sacrifice someone whos family will tell everyone they disappeared one day and never put much pressure on anyone to do much searching. Not to mention they had the influence to bury such things as long as no one cared to look too hard. Not all kids got as lucky, or unlucky, as you. Many kids were killed sacrificially, but some were offered as morsels to specific demons. To entities they believed would give them more power in return. The parents who offered up their kids were never allowed to attend these sacrificial meetings, but they told us it would be as easy as last time. Bring us a toy, a toy wed make sure you played tons with and would grow a bond to, and tell us what your name would be. Youd be offered to the demon to take when he pleased, as long as we made sure you bonded with the toy and kept it protected when you grew out of it. They said if we ever destroyed the toy theyd know, and theyd come for us and trust us they had the power to find us. Thats what we burned that night, we thought it would forever get rid of the demon but it would seem it found a way back to you. We didnt dare destroy it before then as we believed their threats could still be carried out after everything ended, but in the end we decided saving your soul was worth the risk. ” As my mom cried silent tears and my dad sobbed next to her I ask, “So do you know how to get rid of it? ” My mom shakes her head as tears started falling even faster. “I told you we were never allowed to these rituals, and they never spoke of any of it during other meetings. We thought burning the toy would do the trick. ” She cuts herself off obviously not knowing what to say next. Without a word I get up and leave. I hope no one came here looking for a happy ending or closure. My soul was sold before I was ever even born, without me ever having a choice in the matter, and I fear I will be tortured for all eternity for the choices my parents made. I hope the man in between the walls will just consume me when the time comes, but I also fear he will torture me for all eternity instead. But alas, Ive come here tonight to fill everyone in on what has happened in my life since that fateful night with my parents. After finding out my parents had no answers, no way to set my soul free, I went into a spiral. Drugs and alcohol led me down a dark path where I also stopped taking my medication. Intoxication induced hazes mixed with his breath inside me led to several stays in psychiatric hospitals where I always stopped taking my medications upon leaving. In moments of clarity I wondered if I wanted to feel it inside, to be reminded of what awaited me when I would die, to drive my hate for my parents. At a bar one night I met a woman who would end up becoming my wife of only two years. She was heavily into the occult and we bonded a level I had never known before. We went on adventures of meeting shady people and telling them my past to see if they could yield any answers, these always ended with no answers. Only once do I think we met someone who genuinely knew anything of what the other side held, but unfortunately a six month stint in jail ended with my wife not knowing where they had went to during that time. Eventually my wife decided she was done with the drugs and boos and wanted to settle down and get serious and I wasnt ready for that. I can still remember the day the divorce papers arrived at my shit hole apartment that I couldnt even afford rent for, it was also the day the eviction noticed arrived. This sent me into the worse spiral of my life where my heart stopped twice in a hospital bed, unfortunately I lived though. During all this I could feel *it* inside me, I dont think it wanted me to die yet though. It wanted to see, and feel, me suffer. It got some type of sadistic pleasure from it, and it knew it had me anyway. When I die my soul would its to do its liking with, so why rush things? Eventually I met a girl who fell madly for me, but I cared more about the money shed give me for drugs. She was a good person who didnt deserve the torment I brought her, who didnt deserve the man in between the walls rotten stench in her life. But I was in a place where I couldnt care at the time, all that mattered is she was willing to enable my habits to keep me in her life. I think this is the only part of my life I regret now, I caused her more damage than anyone outside my parents deserved. I think I wrecked her mentally and emotionally as she was forced to watch my self destructive ways never able to understand why I did. How could I explain though? How could I make her understand what I was doomed to? I couldnt, although I never tried very hard either. Eventually she wised up and left me, left me homeless too. I didnt care though, sleeping bag in an alley or crappy apartment what did it matter to me as long as I had my vices? And vices I did have, I stole if need be, but I afforded my alcohol and drugs. Then one day it happened, I woke up passed out in a church. Apparently a pastor passed me as I stumbled down a street drunk and decided to give me a place to stay for the night. I woke up looking at a cross. “Glad to see youre up, ” said someone sitting next to me reading a bible. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before looking around and seeing a man dressed casually, maybe early forties, sitting next to me. “An... you... are…? ” I struggle to get out as I try to get out of the haze I was in. “Pastor John, ” he replies simply. John, all that time ago John suffered the price for helping me just as everyone who ever tried did. “Pastor, ” I begin slowly still trying to wake up, “do you believe in Satan, in demons? ” He studies me carefully, “Well I guess it kinda comes with the job, dont it? ” I nod my head before starting again, “What about possession? ” “Your head doesnt seem to be spinning in circles to me, whats got you worried about possession? ” Now it was my turn to study him for a moment. “Not movie possession, something else. Something waiting inside you to die so it can claim your soul, ” I reply as he finally came into full view, the haziness was gone. “Well I dunno if I believe in that, but if you do you know theres someone you can turn to, ” he says giving a small nod towards the cross. “I met a man once, ” I start, “a shaman of sorts who told me we make the monsters out there. Demons, skinwalkers, vampires, whatever you can think of. Our belief in them makes them real. I wonder if the same could be true of gods. ” The pastor looks deep in thought before he says, “Would make sense I guess, if you can will the bad into existence, why not the good? ” The pastor helped me find a sober living willing to take me and I sobered up. Been two years since that day and I now hold a job and have a place to live. Im not sure if I believe we can make gods exist, but I want to believe. I want to believe in a higher power, one who loves me enough to save my soul. Im not sure if I really do, but I cry at night hoping there is one.

Movie jitsuroku onna kanbetsusho 3a sei-jigoku karaoke.