Instagram Harem

I’ve been building a virtual harem on my Instagram. It wasn’t purposeful, but it doesn’t make it any less real. I’ve been following various ladies that are strangers to me. The only reason I began following them is that they posted scantily clad selfies.

I’m not the only chump. Men have the curse of a second brain. It’s stored in our loins. This particular brain doesn’t think so much. It merely reacts to stimulation. Sometimes, it overrides the brain in our skull. Once this happens, we are doomed.

I am addicted to my Instagram. Granted, I post many a great cartoon on it. I jumped into this digital realm, and used it for good (on occasion). I also use it to find ladies from around the world to add to my digital harem. I’ve been collecting them from the first time I signed into the app. Now, it’s not only my hard drive that’s full. My own brain is full of these harlots. I will never meet them. I will never be with them. I only lust for them. They take up minutes a day. I can’t be sure how much of my life force they are sucking down.

They know what they’re doing. They’re not stupid. Well, they may be stupid. I don’t actually know any of them. Nevertheless, they want the “likes”. This is how they get their kicks. Vampires feed off the blood of the weak; these ladies drink from life force of us (morons). They enjoy the attention of being young, attractive and fertile.

I’ve realized that this is a bad move. It’s draining me of time, thought and energy. So, I’m cutting the harem down. I am going to whittle away at these ladies that take up space on my app. I will not feed these attention whores any longer. Whoops, did I just call them whores? Nope! I said “attention whores”. That’s different.

I also find that I am constantly jealous of all of the exposure they get. I can barely muster sixty likes on a cartoon. I put a lot of heart into it, but I’m just not commercially successful. These women put out a pic with cleavage, spend no time or thought doing it, and they get one thousand likes! They don’t have to do anything. They just snap a pic with their phone, and presto 1,000 likes or more.

I think about wasted potential. I wonder how much potential I’ve squandered away. I know this isn’t my only time suck. There are many ways that I waste time. This is one of those things that I can easily fix. I will start unfollowing these vapid girls. Yes, I will hack away at the harlots. I won’t give in to their lust for likes. They will not drain my life force. I won’t be seeing them throughout the day on my damn phone. Leave me be, succubae! Be gone. I will not let you drain me. The power of modesty compels you… the power of modesty compels you!

We all need to ask ourselves a question. How much do we get out of these habits? What do they do for us? If we can answer these questions truthfully then we can move forward. I was stuck in the Instagram muck. Then, I opened up to the light coming in from my window. Yes, there’s a big real world out there. It’s here and now! We can put down the phone, and bask in the light. The divine has saved me, and the fact that spring has sprung. All the girls in town are running around in short skirts and booty shorts!

Delete those accounts, how sweet the click. That saved a perv like me, I once was stuck, but now am not, was blind, but now I see that I was a moron!