I AM SOON TO BECOME A REAL DBE A, submitted by Brett. Ladies and gents, they don't get much more outright insane than this. I present to you a webpage written by a woman obsessed with having her hands cut off and replaced by metal hooks.
I'M A HIGH MYOPE, AND I WEAR GLASSES WITH THICK PLASTIC LENSES; I USED TO WEAR CONTACT LENSES ALMOST ALL OF THE TIME, BUT I'VE DECIDED TO GIVE THEM UP ALTOGETHER IN FAVOR OF MY GLASSES. I'M ALSO A BONAFIDE DBE (DOUBLE BELOW ELBOW) AMPUTEE WANNABE. YES, THAT MEANS THAT I REALLY DO WANT TO HAVE BOTH OF MY HANDS AND BOTH OF MY FOREARMS AMPUTATED ABOUT EIGHT INCHES BELOW MY ELBOWS! IT WAS ONLY RECENTLY THAT I HAVE FINALLY COME TO FULLY UNDERSTAND THE EXTENT OF MY DESIRE TO BECOME A REAL DBE AMPUTEE. WHEN I WAS THREE YEARS OLD, I MET A YOUNG MAN WHO WAS COMPLETELY MISSING ALL FOUR OF HIS FINGERS ON HIS RIGHT HAND. EVER SINCE THAT TIME, I HAVE BEEN ABSOLUTELY FASCINATED BY AMPUTEES, ESPECIALLY WOMEN AMPUTEES WHO WERE MISSING THEIR HANDS OR THEIR ARMS AND WHO WORE HOOK PROSTHESES. EVER SINCE I CAN REMEMBER, I HAVE CONSTANTLY DREAMED AND FANTASIZED ABOUT BECOMING A REAL AMPUTEE MYSELF, ESPECIALLY A REAL DBE AMPUTEE WHO WEARS TWIN BODY-POWERED PROSTHESES WITH MATCHING DORRANCE #5X STAINLESS STEEL HOOKS. SINCE I HAVE PREVIOUSLY THOUGHT THAT MY OBSESSION ABOUT BECOMING A REAL DBE AMPUTEE WAS "UNNATURAL" (I. E.: WRONG, IMMORAL, INDECENT, ETC.) -- LIKE "COVETING THY NEIGHBOR'S HUSBAND OR THY NEIGHBOR'S GOODS" -- I ALWAYS USED TO HIDE MY FEELINGS FROM EVERYONE. I SAY "USED TO" BECAUSE NOW EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED DRAMATICALLY!
Can you believe this lady is engaged to be married? I'm waiting for her husband's webpage, "MY WIFE IS A FUCKING PSYCHO WHO STABBED ME REPEATEDLY WITH A COUPLE OF FORKS SHE STAPLED TO HER HANDS LAST NIGHT." Yes, they both use caps lock to type. That's the kind of thing which makes marriages work.
PS: Visiting this page will give you nightmares until the day you die (not like the rest of the site won't, but this page in particular will).
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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