We can’t help what we like. Personally, I enjoy running my thumbnail underneath my toenails. Can’t get enough. Gross, right? It gets to the point where I become fixated on it every time I am sitting around without socks on until I finally walk into the bathroom and clip them. It’s the same idea as a junkie flushing the last of his stash down the toilet and declaring proudly, “Never again.” And when I do clip the nails, I basically try to erase them. I’ll clip my pinkie toenail down to a stub that looks like it could either be the remnants of a nail or possibly a shiny wart. Nothing more than a nub on the end of the seemingly useless, but actually essential, toe at the short end of the line.
Everyone has little quirks and proclivities which are innate and inerasable that we aren’t particularly proud of. We can’t help what we like. I like booze, even though it’s bad for me. Some people like huffing. Some people pay street-walkers for handjobs underneath an overpass. We don’t do these things because we think other people will think us “cool,” quite the opposite in some cases, but we can’t help it. That’s the way we’re built. It’s with this in mind that I have grown a pity for a section of society that continually gets shit on unanimously in civilized societies: Pedophiles.