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.

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