just a few min­utes ago.


No com­ment at all.

Ascot World, an online com­mu­nity devoted to men and woman in wheelchairs.




Good? Definitely. But … but what if your kink is a para or quad … and sci­ence, not car­ing at all, just up and refixes the sit­u­a­tion in, say, 2021 or so?

How do you file for divorce? “Your Honor, I loved him … and then the bas­tard got up and walked.”

Thought it was worth an aside here too.

OK, okay, but think about this. What if you’re some kind of extrem­ist fetishist. What if you’re totally into aller­gies. I mean, not for you, but you like see­ing the snot, sneeze and con­vul­sions. They turn you on. All those mus­cu­lar spasms, all that fluid fly­ing. Suppose that you learn there’s a new drug that ends all aller­gies, forever.

Suppose there’s a new viral or nano surgery that can end quad and para deficits; an injec­tion, three days, and the nerves begin to regrow. What then, if you’re attached to the per­son in the chair? Are you? Or are you attached to the idea of what the chair means?

Suppose, as a man, you’re really into women. Suppose you learn there’s a way for women to stop being women forever.

Suppose your wife takes that pill, and 32 hours later has a penis, her own.

Gee, Morrie. Too bad you were injured so freak­ishly in the fac­tory. Too bad sci­ence could only save your life by graft­ing a penis onto your vagina. But, see, I mar­ried a woman, and that’s all that mat­ters to me.“
THINK about this.

What is attrac­tion? If you say you’d love the other, crip­pled or not, well, why does gen­der mat­ter either?

Stupid idea. “I love you, so much, but since you and I are incom­pat­i­ble in some arbi­trary bio­log­i­cal way, well, fuck it; I guess all we’ll ever be is good friends.”

You know what I hate about eat­ing my vegetables?

Getting them back into the wheelchair.

Oh grow the fuck up already.


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