Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

I was Spiritually Molested On POF and It Made Me Think Of Proverbs 6:28

 

I was spiritually molested by a scarlet woman on POF and it Reminded me of Proverbs 6:28

The girl was overweight and had the most amazing natural foxy hair and she was just too fantastic to be real. So I decided to follow this self-induced omen knowing fully that God, although forever omniscient, can activate elsewhere in terrific variety and suffice to say this one was on me.

By the end of this humiliating essay I hope you will have learned something, most likely regarding the ridiculous nature of the author’s fruitless persuits rather than the intended scammer awareness 21st century virtue-signalling for viewership which is almost as laughable as my ghostly whispers of a love life. Then again,  I did see at a new age leftist rally a skinhead mangirl struggling to hold up a sign on which was scrawled in blood Red ink

 POF IS RAPE

Well if that’s the case then call me Nanking
So, what exactly happened?

I did what I always do, and this was my one step back after what turned out to be a leap forward without proportion on the macroscale.
I revitalized my dating profile on Plenty of Fish, an epic decimation of one’s own logic considering I am positive POF is a deep state psyop and I will deal with this issue on my series Christpiracy.

The point is about 10% of males are what you could call desirable on POF. Either they have the job, the money, or the looks. Therefore, by design, that means that 90% of us are set up for failure. And people call the notion of a psyop conspiratorial. Only God knows. And, of course a core team coding engineers in Canada. But God, mainly.

So I let myself be tempted.

It was more than mere curiosity; there was an element of submission I’ve later come to define as a personal vendetta against the self.
Her profile picture looked vague enough to be realistic. Having a huge smiley face ensuring the anonymity of a third party was a nice touch by way of affirming authenticity ie some kind of complicated narrative that she just can’t…
So I private messaged her in a polite non-committal way, ending as I always do, with the offer of friendship if I’m not her type.
However, her response was empathic, And not to be disrespectful I shall hereby designate the lady in question as Robotique.

So I replied to R in my usual cynical hilarity and she starts introducing highly-explicit butt stuff into the convo and I immediately began to question just what it means to be alive. Am I so old fashioned that just because you don’t know someone personally and only exchanged less than 100 words with them, she shouldn’t abruptly send sensitve jpegs? No. No I’m not.
It’s weird and its clearly the result of things like Drag Queen story hour in which mutants from planet Gecko sexually molest innocent children on national television in the name of ‘diversity’ but that’s another pile of historical manure for another blogpiphany.

Anyway, the jpegs continued one after another with the same phrases beneath it, ritualistic, hypnotic, bright hair of strawberry threads of sunrise and eyes shining like prisms in the atomic fakery. Eyes, my God, she could be the bloodline of Mosrd, I thought in my efforts to contain the faith. When I had meditated good, long and hard about it I realized it just might as well be an an AI prophet. Aeon of Horus before us, the kids have their toys, Elon carrying on the proud Boar tradition of human slavery with the unveiling of the synthetic brain. Wonder who funded that?

Anyway I digress, the Images intensified and I asked for a phone call so I could put a voice to...pretty much everything else.
But she refused. And it was then the jig was up. The person behind Robotique, that lush creature was none other than internationally-renowned Pastor Deacon Priestley Goddard III undercover as part of his Congress-approved W.E.T (We Eradicate Temptation, so the long story short is that the Good Pastor saved me from my male white priveledge and delivered me from evil. God forgive me, I came so close to giving that horny heathen my credit card details.

So the main point of this post is to show you that God is akways watching, with a hide hand in both the virtuous and the vile.

So thank you Pastor Deacon Priestley Goddard III for helping me help myself. I will be Eternal grateful.

Although, id still like to know where this venerated man of God got such filth, agreeable filth ill admit but I suppose that’s between him and God.

Thanq for reading and God Bless you.

◄ Gnostic Transcryptions

Little Bambie Snowdon Wants To Come Home But The Porridge Is Still Too Hot ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message