A melancholy has come upon me. I am a fool with an unspeakable, uncurable sickness.
At the tavern this evening, Sir Roger and his friends were speaking of the fairness of the maidens in the village, and I, the fool that I am asked if anyone else did think and agree that;
“Miss Emily would be twice the treat were she to grow the fangs and whiskers of the she-wolf”
They looked at me as a man beset by madness! Realising my error, I panicked and quickly exclaimed;
“Tis merely a jest! Take nothing earnest in mine utterances!”
But they did not stop laughing, until everyone in the room, which is nearly everyone in the village of any standing, was also laughing.
They attempted to mock me by initiating mock-courting, interspersed with howling and growling.
I fled home, ashamed, a fool. As I write this now, every five minutes I hear a howl and some giggling from outside my window.
There must not be another man alive who would understand me and my shameful sickness. Why must I desire this ungodly blend of woman and beast?
I shall leave for London in the morning, to find a cure, or failing that, to meet my end.
Yes, but it does mean that he was less likely to encounter said monsterfuckers
You don’t think monsterfuckers wouldn’t be stalking the night for strange?
In the early 1800s? No, I don’t think so, that would have been how people were labeled as witches or ne’er-do-wells and hung.
Hanged. According to Young Frankenstein the monster was in fact hung.
You don’t think that the Venn diagram of monsterfuckers and introverts have any overlap? At all?
Pre-internet? Pre-social media? In sparsely populated areas? Not really.
Dear diary,
A melancholy has come upon me. I am a fool with an unspeakable, uncurable sickness.
At the tavern this evening, Sir Roger and his friends were speaking of the fairness of the maidens in the village, and I, the fool that I am asked if anyone else did think and agree that;
They looked at me as a man beset by madness! Realising my error, I panicked and quickly exclaimed;
But they did not stop laughing, until everyone in the room, which is nearly everyone in the village of any standing, was also laughing.
They attempted to mock me by initiating mock-courting, interspersed with howling and growling.
I fled home, ashamed, a fool. As I write this now, every five minutes I hear a howl and some giggling from outside my window.
There must not be another man alive who would understand me and my shameful sickness. Why must I desire this ungodly blend of woman and beast?
I shall leave for London in the morning, to find a cure, or failing that, to meet my end.
they verifiably do, but introverts miss other introverts all the time
Yeah, but introvert monsterfuckers are even less likely to meet the monster, because they’re sitting alone at home fantasizing about monsters.
I think you’re asking the wrong questions.