One thing I noticed and it holds absolute truth. People do not like nudists. Especially in situations when they do not believe that you are one and ask you to prove it. When you show it to them they are so overwhelmed by the outcome they become offensive and do anything to hurt you. One little example is when I was at the funnyfarm in 2003, there was a man bored to his wits. The conversation we had led to nudity and things like that, and when he learned that I am one, he didn't believe me and asked that I prove. Me, being open like that, who doesn't usually prove anything but shows when there's audience. Showed him. He got so angry that he called the funnyfarm personel and complained about it. The personel broke into the bathroom, where I went next to take a dump and then take a shower, without knowing that I got in "trouble". The gave me a niddle in the ass while I was sitting on the toilet, I documented their names and their positions when this happened. The looks on their faces were as if they were nazis sending people to the gas chamber. I wondered very much about this issue. First he asked me to show him then he punished me for it? I did not understand who is the victim here.

Today, me being open like the way I am, I was in the kitchen where my mother, father and little 20 year old brother conversed about my situation in life and how I should get out of it, as if I ever complained. Since 2001 or so I never had any shame being naked in front of my parents, for we are all equal beings and being private only insecurity. So my mother said something about my balls, that I don't have any or something, to be able to take the plunge and leave them. So, I openned my zipper and started checking if there's any truth in her statement. How could she know for sure? When they saw all this, my father started getting upset with me, probably thinking that I am trying to take his place in the family leadership, an animal instict of his kicked in and he picks up the knife and starts attacking me, I pushed away from the knife and before I knew it he blows me in the right ear. It actually hurt very much. Me in all this pain pick up the freshly unlovingly made pastry and drop it to the floor, for I have already tasted a bit of it and it wasn't tasty. The fight starts and the mother is in between us. My bother calls the police telling them that I hit my parents. Police comes, hears their story, hear my story write a family dispute report and walk away suggesting me not to disrespect my mother by telling her that she's no good baking. Well it is still true, she used to bake with love, just like Oracle in Matrix movie, when she said cookies need love too when making them. Things changed her when my mother became a drug addict, meaning legal drug addict. Pfizer (who own the word pharmacy) and its allies have her by the balls which she doesn't have but you got the point.



More and more her "doctors" convince her to take pills for various types of illnesses my mother has come to have. And she blames me for it. Saying that all because she worries for me and my lifestyle, imagine if I leave the parents home and start living on my own. She will probably kill herself if she finds out that I am not delivering on my parent's expectations. But that's a different matter altogether. I keep on telling her that she's given birth to a creature that is better than both of them combined so that was their intent when they did the lovemaking. Should they not loved doing it would have altered the way I grew up. I was born and lived in love, why should I be excluded from it now, in my peak age. Not that I mean that I have intentions to have physical love with my pretty parents.

So here I am with a ton of words written for mr. t and you my nosy like me reader, with a realization that people may not like what they see when they ask for it.