11. I obsessively stalked a model’s personal information
“When I was in high school this ad for a local hair salon started popping up on buses and things. It was pretty normal, except there was something terrifying and fascinating about the model. She had a really angular face and equally angular haircut, a smirk, this look in her eye that said she knew all of your darkest secrets and would hold them over your head for the rest of your natural life.
I mentioned it to my friends and they all found her to be rather unnerving too.
So naturally we had to find out who she was.
It wasn’t easy, it took a lot of digging on their website to find her picture because they mainly used it for print advertisements. When we did find it a reverse image search didn’t help us.
We spent hours combing through the website trying to find the name of their advertising agency, but no dice. We had a friend call them and ask for the name, I don’t remember how we justified it, but they wouldn’t tell us.
Eventually we found the agency by Googling to see if any agency claimed to represent them. Then we combed through their clients until we found this woman. Most of her modeling headshots were way less unnerving than that advertisement was.
And then…that was it. We had nothing to do with that information. We never contacted the woman, but I still remember her name and Google her from time to time to see how she’s doing.”
12. I counted the condoms in my parents’ dresser drawer
“I used to regularly check the condoms in my parents’ dresser drawer. For some reason I was curious about how often they had sex. I wish I had never found out.”
13. I masturbated to the sounds and smells of a woman defecating
“Basically I am a man of voracious sexual appetite combined with the fatal character flaw of falling in love with every woman who pays me the least bit attention, so one day at work a random girl came in and made delightful small talk with me in a way that really excited my Roosevelt and naturally I decided that I would try to get her to love me, but once she left I realized I’d probably be better off watching from afar before I try to make any move.
Of course I kept a copy of her receipt. I usually did that anyway with hot girls so I could look them up on Facebook and masturbate to their photos—it’s a university town, so it’s easy to narrow down students and if I have their full name it’s cake. The best was when girls were buying underwear. Or the ones who were clearly uncomfortable going to a male cashier with their lingerie and were awkward and all that with me but I just put on a smile and pretend it’s fine and thanks to my photographic memory I could go home and masturbate relishing in the thought that I knew exactly what they would be wearing….
My Aphrodite was obviously a student at the university so I found her on Facebook and quickly realized that her profile was wide open, meaning I could see all of her statuses and photos- every update. It’s not stalking because it’s public information anyway and whatnot. So I had her receipt, I found her on Facebook, and it began quite innocently, like I was just masturbating to her swimsuit photos three or four times a day but then I realized that I TA in the building right next to where her major classes were. So I began to pay attention to her status updates, hoping to catch when she’d be in the building. Not for any nefarious purpose, I just wanted to see if I could maybe track her down like a wild sow or something and pretend like I was Nigel Thornberry.
Well, as I said before I am a man of diverse sexual tastes and after the first few times I saw her wandering across the causeways between our buildings and my subsequent masturbating in janitorial closets I decided to step it up a notch. By that point I already had memorized her class schedule, at least in the building next to mine, so I knew where she was at most given moments. THIS is where I thought to maybe do something like…pretend like I’m in her classes and that we’re compatible and whatnot, but then I realized I’m not the best-looking guy and she might remember me from the store and I should probably just stick to my normal technique of hiding in the women’s restroom and masturbating to the sounds they made on the toilet—something I’ve done since early teenagehood and something I’ve mastered.
So I posted up like a military sentinel on a bench in her ac building where I knew she had class. The first few classes were futile—would my darling ever piss? Was she a camel? Alas, it took a few tries but on the third or fourth day of waiting I caught her slip out of class towards the women’s restroom. I buried my head in a book and let her pass. Then as soon as she went into the bathroom I hobbled over at full mast, glanced around like a perverted priest in an orphanage, and slipped furtively into the bathroom.
I perched on a toilet like a crow to hide my hairy ankles and crocs so no lady would see me in their domain. Almost immediately, the concerto of her bowel movement graced my ears. Toccata and Fugue in Shit Minor—an artful evacuation of the rectum. Sensual yet gripping: It sounded like she was making fart noises with her mouth, but I could detect the verisimilitude. It was sublime. I conducted my typical stealthy masturbatory symphony, relishing in the stench reeking into my stall from hers. It was 8 or 9 minutes that felt like an eternity and I still can’t hide in women’s restrooms without wistfully remembering that great day.
And as quickly as it began it was over, and she flushed, and washed, and was gone. I try not to get hung up on women too badly so I told myself she’d be out of my life forever. Barely holding back tears, I took one nostalgic glance into her stall, just to solidify the memory forever, when I realized that upon the toilet seat was a spiky black pubic hair.
Naturally I snatched the pube like Smeagol and his precious, and to this day it occupies a special spot in my wallet, going around with me everywhere I go as a romantic reminder of what true love feels like—that love is everywhere, all around us, and inside all of us, and sometimes all that it takes to realize said love is an ungodly bowel movement and a lonely forgotten pubic hair.”
14. I had sex with a pillow
“I used to pretend a pillow was a person sleeping next to me sometimes. A lot of people have done it, but I took it to the next level. Instead of cuddling it, I was more considerate. The pillow was shy, so I gave it some personal space. Once it was asleep, I decided to hold its hand and gradually get closer to it. To say the least, it went sexual. No, I unfortunately do not have a body pillow. I had to make do with a normal one.”
15. I doxxed someone
“I doxxed someone. They mentioned that they were ‘impossible to dox’ because they didn’t have ‘enough information’ on the Internet. With an hour, Google, and Facebook, I sent them a PM with their name, address, phone number, parents’ names, address, phone numbers, and the school he was attending, all along with a message to ‘please be more careful on the Internet.’ It was all just a matter of matching his Reddit name to a YouTube channel, then matching a first name with a profile picture on Facebook, then matching his last name with his friends’ list. Of course, I would never dream of releasing any of that information to the public, and doxxing someone publicly is an amazingly shitty thing to do. But I sent that message, and damn if I wasn’t right.”
16. I would sneak out at night to leave a rose on a girl’s doorstep
“In 8th grade I would sneak out at night, hike a mile, and leave a single rose on the doorstep of this girl I loved. I would always include a li’l note in red ink. Things like, ‘Hey beautiful have a great day.’ One time my mom caught me and said that if I want to leave roses on a girl’s doorstep she would drive me. That kind of took the fun out of it. When it came time to sign her yearbook, I used red ink. :)”
17. I signed in to my ex’s email account to see if she’d read my email
“I dated a chick, and we broke up. I sent her an email at one point asking her if she wanted to get back together. I just felt weird calling her. She didn’t respond for like days and days, and I was wondering to myself if she had read it and ignored it, or if she had just not seen it yet. I just so happened to remember her password from another time she had asked me to check it for her, so I logged in and looked to see if she had actually read it. She had. I just kicked rocks at that point and called it a day. But it occurred to me pretty soon after that what I had done was fairly creepy. This was before Google alerted you to sign-ins from strange computers, fortunately for me at the time. Never invaded anyone’s privacy since then. Felt bad about it. You live and learn, I guess.”
18. I wrote a girl’s name on my penis with a Sharpie
“I had a crush on this girl in high school, so I wrote her name on my penis with a Sharpie.”
19. I took pictures of my crush and sold them to other girls
“I was in high school and about 14ish. There was this super hot guy that all the other girls liked (he’s still super hot). So I would have this disposable camera on me at all times to sneak pictures of him and sell them to his crazier fans so I could buy books I wanted. I ended up making like, 80 or 90 dollars. I’ve been dating him for 8 years now and I did tell him about it. He thought it was hilarious but was disappointed he never got a cut of the money.”
