I like girls in school girl outfits. I’m also partial to latex. A t-shirt and full bottom panties work too, on the right body. I like spanking girls and pulling their hair. I like to stick my tongue in their ass and, depending on my mood, I’m not averse to them sticking theirs in mine, preferably while their friend is blowing me, both are wearing pigtails and tiny skirts, with vibrating buttplugs inserted in their rectum, while humming When Doves Cry. See, I have a variety of little fetishes that any person would consider normal, innocent. I’m not some sort of sexual deviant, practicing perverse perversions for the purposes of pleasure. I enjoy sex and intimacy the way God (Fake entity alert! Fake entity alert!) intended them, between one man, and one to three women. What I most certainly do not enjoy, is what I consider to be the most freakish, disturbing, disgusting fetish on the planet, that should be outlawed and, if performed, punishable by something really really really bad.

I don’t like feet.

Seriously, ew. What are you foot fetishishits seeing that I’m not? I mean, a foot, if you study it, looks like a weird little animal with five piggly wiggly stubby tentacles. Although some are groomed very nicely, which doesn’t make them less gross, most are horrifying. They spend their entire existence attached to the bottom of you, crammed into a tight, hot, shoe/sock cell, sprouting toe hairs, aging toe cheese, sweating toe sweat, and waiting to unleash a bunion on an unsuspecting victim. Other than a rank armpit, or a dirty ass, or your mom’s breath, what smells worse than a foot? Nothing, that’s what. Even when they’re clean, which is never, they’re still a foot. They’re still creepy and, no matter what, they always have those damn toes.

Who the fuck is sucking on these things?

No, I will not suck on your toes or lick your feet. I won’t even touch your feet. I don’t even wanna know you have feet. Those boots are sexy as hell. No need to ever take them off in my presence. As far as I’m concerned, they’re growing out of your knee joint. I don’t even know why I like them. Perhaps it’s because they’re covering your feet. If I hear the words, “But I have pretty feet” one more fucking time I’ll shit in a shoe box and call it Sparky. Because I find it highly unlikely that I’ll think you have pretty feet unless, of course,

YOUR FEET HAVE STOPPED LOOKING LIKE FUCKING FEET.

On the same note, I certainly don’t expect, or want, you to touch, caress, kiss, lick, suck, or hell, even look at my feet. And the fact is, I have pretty nice feet. Alas, they are still feet and sadly, will always be feet. So, you foot fetish fanatics out there get some help, seek therapy, take a pill, and stop worshiping the low end of the totem pole. Move on to something less distasteful, like a kneecap, or an elbow, or an earlobe. Something normal. All are acceptable alternatives. But for god’s sake, please, stop with the feet. It’s just not right.

Never let it be said, although I am always right, that I don’t allow others to voice their opinions, however stupid, insipid, or wrong. Here, I’ll read a letter from one of my fans wherein they offer an alternate opinion.

Disclaimer: There may be one or two people who claimed that I have had my feet worshipped. They are lying. Don’t believe them. They’ve made it up. So, if you are one of those people who claims that, shut yer pie-hole. Nobody believes you.

Seriously, don’t tell anyone.