Here, I shall attempt to bravely explore the unnameable, the unspeakable, and the unpleasant aspects of being a grown man who was, you guessed it, buggered as a boy. I shall also attempt to make those things completely speakable, nameable, and perhaps a little less unpleasant. Not just for me, I hope – but also for those of you reading who were abused, assaulted, raped, groped, diddled, whateverthefuck. Or who love someone who was all of the above. Or who are just curious about us, and our lives, and our experiences. Welcome.
And for those of you reading (and I’m sure at least one of you will visit) who actually did the groping and abusing and all that – for you uncles, neighbors, teachers, dads, aunties, grandfathers, priests and drunk ‘friends’ – I pity you your pathetic lives, and I pity you your shitty past and your crappy future, your unhappiness, loneliness, your sheer uselessness. And I sincerely encourage you to find some discreet way of killing yourselves so that you may die the way you have lived: quietly, secretly, shamefully, and alone. Now fuck off and let we who belong here have some fun.
buggered as a boy 
You are absolutely right. Keep on writing. Especially looking forward to hearing about your parents’ role in all this. Thank you.
My dear friend, congratulations for having the balls to start this. I always had the urge to discuss your childhood experiences, not to know the gritty details but to encourage you to get it off your chest. But of course this had to be on your terms… and here we are. However much this journey helps you, I know you will help others even more. I hope that approaching this fucked up shit with your sick sense of humour will encourage others to look at the tragedy more lightly, to really feel that they are not alone and to start the healing process by letting things out. Dark secrets of any kind eat you alive if they remain secrets. I am not a buggeree (thank God) and I cannot even begin to imagine how hard all this is, but I am convinced that we are all endowed with enough strength to pull out from even the worst tragedy if we just tap into this strength.
Right after I read all your blog entries yesterday morning, I read about a father in Texas who found a guy he knew doing his 4 year old girl. He punched the guy in the face until he wads dead. As a father of three small children, one of my biggest fears is that they have to go through something like this. Another fear is that I react in the exact same way and end up in jail, far from my family. Which makes me conclude that prevention is the only solution. I know your blog is about healing, not a practical guide on prevention. But if at any point you or anyone else reading feels like shedding some light onto the seemingly impossible task of recognizing the sick fucks and/or preventing the situations in which they act, I would certainly appreciate it.
Thank you for the videos of the Beast and the monkey on the pig. Thoroughly enjoyed them. A big hug for you and your lovely wife.
Thanks, man…
so many things to write about… I will definitely get to my ideas of prevention. As for the blind paternal rage – I totally get it, but in the end… it’s not about the dad. If he can’t see beyond that rage to actually protecting and helping his children, to giving them the opportunity to lessen the harm, then… well, he’s failed them horribly. And I get crimes of passion, but, still – he’s just fucked his kids royally, hasn’t he? My parents were absolutely incredible when I told them. And that is the topic for a big post – but the way they handled the situation was one of the most important elements of how I was able to turn the whole bloody thing around. If someone diddles your kid, and you find out when they’re young, and you get help and deal with the problem and the fallout there and then (and put the fucker in jail), there is no reason I can see for those children to grow up troubled by it. And then everyone gets on with their lives, don’t they?