What Is Love? Baby Don't Hurt Me!

I am loved, too.

Would you like to hear how I know I am loved?

Too bad. I’m going to tell you anyway.

When I asked my wife to stand up, yank her pants down from her waist to her hips and pull her shirt up to her chin so I could take a very tasteful photograph of her, which I would then post online so I could brag about her 34C bust, 23 inch waist and six pack abs, like this:

she told me (and I remember because she doesn’t usually speak so forcefully unless the bedroom door is closed, IYKWIMAITYD), “Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of twisted, motherfucking pervert are you? That’s fucking sick! Who takes a picture of their wife and posts it online for total strangers to crank off to? Get the hell away from me!”

She had a point. It was a bad idea, and I knew it when I asked.  I wanted the honest reaction of a beautiful, intelligent, emotionally centered woman to the question. I didn’t want her reaction to the idea.

Of course I apologized and dealt with the cold shoulder for a couple of days.  Then things returned to normal.

She asked me again soon after what kind of husband would do that, and all I could tell her was “The kind of man who takes a dump, photographs it, picks it up, rolls it around, sniffs it, writes blog posts about it, and thinks this too is a good idea.”

She said, “Oh my God.”

I spared her the curse of greater knowledge.

Because I love her.  And there is nothing I would not do to protect her. That includes taking zero ghoulish, creepy death-fetish photographs of her, and it further includes entertaining for even a fraction of an infinitesimal portion of a nanosecond any possible rationalization, however tempting, to allow such a nonexistent photo to ever escape my control.

Because that’s something only a true, dyed in the wool, I-made-a-career-of-being-a-DUMBFUCK would do.

You can’t touch that.


Author: Paul Krendler

The Thinking Man's Zombie

19 thoughts on “What Is Love? Baby Don't Hurt Me!”

  1. And this episode of the Schmycle is complete, as "above it all" Bill makes an appearance to say he's taking a leave of absence.

    I wonder how long this will last?

    1. We're still missing "You're Killing Me!!" Bill. I miss that pathetic son of a bitch, though agiledog almost got him to pop out of his hidey hole.

  2. It is loved, it says. Can it prove that inherently implausible statement? Otherwise, there is a school of thought, named the BS school of verification, that all assertions not proved are deemed false.

  3. I like this pic. I'd never seen it before.

    It has great potential and once "modified" it will make the rounds in the darker hemispheres of the intertubes.

  4. Jesus Christ, Bill, why would you publish that photograph?!!???


    Hell, why would you take it in the first place?

    Woman was dying, and you couldn't let her go with some shred of dignity.

    Jesus Christ...

    1. He just really, REALLY does not get boundaries in any significant measure. As someone who has struggled for decades with setting up my own boundaries, I can speak, personally, to the emotional and mental devastation of what this does. The mental anguish that happens when you allow people to run roughshod over you because you have no way of putting up a boundary and they have absolutely no intention of honoring one anyway because really, it's all about them and fuck your boundaries and right to yourself, is just indescribable. Because you love them, and want to please them, but pleasing them means violating yourself. You can't set up your own healthy boundaries and even when you try to do so, the other person tears them down. It is ABUSE. SPOUSAL ABUSE. Even though you love them, they are ABUSING you by not allowing you dignity in the slightest measure.

      This photograph is exhibit 1,329 of the lack of love he showed for his beloved. Because if you truly loved someone, you would never even DREAM of asking them to pose in this manner for you and then post it on the internet, robbing them of their personhood and depriving them of dignity. NEVER, EVER, EVER.

      William Schmalfeldt, mental and emotional spousal abuser. There. That is truth in a nutshell.

      1. Probably the best series of posts yet on the absolute degeneracy of William M. Schmalfeldt. Having been memorialized first as The Elkridge Horror and now as the Saint Francis Slime Monster, he manifests his absolute anger towards all women by displaying his terminally ill wife half naked on the internet as payback for having been born. His putrefaction is now complete as he continues to sink lower and lower into the inferno that only Dante could imagine.

  5. Before my court hearing, I went to google and did a simple search for pictures of Bill's late wife. The first page of results had seven photos of her in a hospital bed. One of them is the picture he had his panties in a knot over. The other six (that's 85% for you math-lazy bums) were pictures he had published. I brought copies of three of them with me to show the court.

    Short of being a willing subject in a medical test/trial, I didn't think it is possible to get so many unflattering pictures of yourself put on the internet.

      1. I'd very much like to know what "others with the same condition" have seen those photos, or would want to see them if the chance arose.

        It's a reasonable sounding but ultimately pointless post hoc rationalization, a hallmark of sociopathic behavior.

        1. I would too. Because this is the sort of picture that gets posted on a private message board for a certain medical condition - but usually only after the head is cropped out just in case someone is an asshole and posts it to the open internet. Or else it is shown to your doctor as an example of progression.

          And yes, it is a hallmark or sociopathic behavior. There is always an excuse, and more than likely it is one that has an "altruistic" veneer to it to make it palatable. Only it's not.


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