I’ve been an Admin here for over 10 years now. And in that time, we’ve all had some laughs. But, all things come to an end, and I’m stepping down as an Admin here at the MCF.
I used to be a lot more involved here, but I’m not anymore. For one thing, I’ve lost the desire to write this stuff, although I do have some half-fleshed-out ideas floating around in my increasingly inappropriately titled “Works in Progress” folder. As the world of mind control erotica has shifted toward online sales of e-books (something that wasn’t even a thing back in the day), I feel like the spirit that was among us back in the early ‘aughts has also shifted. Not that people shouldn’t be able to make some money writing mind control erotica, mind you. More power to you if you choose to do that! But things are different now, and honestly, I’m just not interested enough in it all to change with the times.
I don’t even get a thrill out of telling MCF members who are being shitheads “STOP IT!!” anymore. How long’s it been since I did one of my “That’ll be just enough of that” posts? Weren’t those great? I mean, unless you were the target of one, weren’t those just the best? When pissing off one or two people to keep the peace among the masses stops being enjoyable, then it’s time to hang up the ol’ boots.
And yes, there are admin boots, but honestly, I never wore them. The first pair I got were from Chase, who talks a good game about how awesome America is and how much he loves it, but the boots he sent me were from some company called “CHINESE DEMOCRATIC PETROCHEMICAL, NUCLEAR SHIELDING, AND BOOTS MFG” and were... inexpensively made. The second set of boots I got were from someone who wasn’t an admin. They were very nice boots that I personally couldn’t afford to splurge on, and although they looked great, that person and I were fighting at the time, and I’m pretty sure I know whose poop it was that I found in those boots.
In any event, I’m not going to be an admin anymore. I may pop in from time to time, as logging into this place is practically muscle memory at this point. But, that’s about it. So, don’t send me requests to change your account name or any other account-related requests; I won’t even forward them. Soon, the admin team will figure out a way to get my email address out of the 27 places in the software it seems to have embedded itself into. That means I won’t get the constant emails indicating problems with the server and/or replies to PM notifications made from email clients. (Seriously, people. Learn how PMs work.)
Well, it wouldn’t be a Bobwhite post unless it were far longer than it needed to be, so I hope the above stuff was long enough for you to realize that, no, I wasn’t hacked. And none of you are the cause of this, so don’t worry that you hurt my feelings, causing me to take my ball and go home. Also, don’t pat yourself on the back, thinking that it was you who finally got rid of me, your unknowing archenemy. Trust me when I say this, and mark it down in your journals, because what I’m about to say has been said before, but until now, it was always a lie.
It’s not you. It’s me.
Yours truly,
is a silly thing to still put at the end of letters. Which I still send through the mail, because I’m an idiot.
