Why I Fear the End is Nigh (For OnlyFans Gooners)

A Poorly Thought Out Think-Piece By a Possessed Garden Gnome.

Bobo insisted on posting his own essay, and, well, here it is. Dictated by the gnome himself, recorded and edited by Carrie, with clarification and comments in brackets by me, John Doe. For readers and listeners to Welcome to the Deep Estate, hopefully, you get a chuckle and “that’s SO Bobo” out of this. For everyone else? I’m sorry in advance.

And dear baby “Bob” barging into a bounce house, please take note: The following are the uneducated views and opinions of Bobo, and Bobo alone. Carrie is firmly of the opinion that this article is beneath our editorial standards. I was surprised we even had editorial standards in the first place, then she thwacked me on the head, and I was right there with her on sticking to those editorial standards. But then Bobo got really whiny, and the guy can be insanely emotionally manipulative when he wants something. We inevitably broke, and well, here is the end result..

Look, I’m a severely immobilized guy [Clarification: He’s a garden gnome.]

I’m disabled as fuck. [No, he’s just a lawn ornament.]

A real quatropeligic. [A ceramic lawn ornament.]

And I’ve come to rely on the World Wide Spiderwebs to connect with real people, but bitchin’ on Reddit is only part of havin’ a connection, you know? I don’t like admitting it, but I ain’t ever had a sexy-time partner I could get sick and sweaty with for real, but that don’t make me an Incel, okay? I got exterminating circumstances, understand? And those circumstances ain’t that I’m fugly and no lady is willing to touch my junk. It’s that I got no junk.

Am I a little pissy about that? Sure. But not at the girlies. I love the girlies.

I am a proud gooner, and gooners love OnlyFans thotts cuz they let you be really pervy with them if you give them your money. [Clarification: My money. Bobo keeps stealing my credit cards.]

It’s all done respectfully, of course. Cuz the thott can always block you if you’re being too much of a sleeze or ain’t got no Slack. I think it’s a real societal service they’re doing because all us men are real perverts. [Not all men.] No, really. I mean all men. Even your Grandpa. You don’t know what he’s doing when you ain’t looking, but I’m sure it’d be traumatizing as fuck to find out. I’m talking real Lemon Party shit. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about when I say ‘Lemon Party,’ Google it.

[DON’T GOOGLE IT.]

Them pervin’ it out online is way, way better than them pervin’ it out offline in person, getting all #MeToo with it, okay? Just ask Louis C.K., he knows he shoulda kept it online. That’s why I’m all worried about all this artsy-official robot bullshit tainting my gooning experience. [“Artificial.” He means artificial.]

Now, a lotta the time, you ain’t actually creeping on real girlies in the chats. They’re using an AI chatbot, and it’s stupid obvious. No self-respecting woman is gonna see some faceless dude all up in their DMs waxing poetic and like it. Even if they’re real polite in their waxing,

“Your butthole is a pink rosebud unfurling in the white morning mist.
Your areolas are two bashful blushing ghosts perched on adjacent hills.
And every time you use that clear dildo with the rainbow beads inside,
The look of surprise is like a lover just stabbed you in the heart.
It belongs in a Shakespearean tragedy.
I beg you, let me slip upon your bathwater hemlock.
Love me and let every night be our murder-suicide.

Hell, even the women who got no self-respect are still skeezed out about it.

But the AI Thott bott? They immediately respond with “OMG Thanks, Babe 💓💓💓You really know how to make a girl feel special. 🥰”

Never mind that it’s a false representation on the girlie’s part. It’s dead-tree-mental to the gooner. We gotta feel the shame that comes with waiting a whole-ass day just to get back, “Thanks for the tip!” like we tipped a driver good on DoorDash. Believe me when I say that all that time the gooner is waiting for a reply, he’s just sitting around hittin refresh, guts gettin’ all twisty and a whole lotta ants getting into his pants. Eventually that gooner is gonna feel real stupid for spending hours perfectly crafting that pervert poem.

High-prophetically, of course, I’d never do that. [He’s totally done that and asked me to spell check.]

But for some other gooner with zero Slack? Maybe that shame will make them think before saying to their hot barber, “Hey, I bet your ass would look good under a ring light.”

‘Cuz you can’t spell empathetic, without also kinda feel-in’ pathetic.

(And you can quote me on that, John. No, really, John. You gotta put that in quotes next to my face, John. Use a fancy sheriff font and shit so I look like a real intellectual.)

And now we’re seein’ stage-two of the Artsy-official’s evil master plan.

There’s all these thotts poppin’ up, actin’ like they’re a normie OnlyFans, but really they ain’t real. They’re these Thott Botts and I dunno… How am I supposed to goon on that? I’m shellin’ out clams to see some genuine clam. A.I. got no soul or for-real hole.

And what’s the point of some rando askin’ a girlie to stick her feetsies in a pot of noodles and being real specific that it’d be linguine cooked Al Dante, if there really ain’t no lady gettin’ creeped out on the other side.¹ Instead, it’s some other gooner typing into an AI prompt, “Stick her feetsies in some noodles,” and basically sending you Will Smith eatin’ noodles, except it’s a mangled foot with six toes.

The great feel-officer Hobbes once said that without society, the life of a man is “Nasty, Goonish, and short,” and I gotta say, that cat was real smart. [I think he literally means a cat, as in the cat in Calvin & Hobbes] And in Levi's thong, [Leviathan] he came up with this idea of a social media contract. You see, gooners gave up some gooning freedoms and agreed to stop being public pervs if it’d still be cool to goon to thotts at home.

It was a good system. I like that system, but what happens if they ain’t gooning to thotts no more, but Artsy-official thott bots? They’re gonna lose trust in the whole Thott economy, which means they stop tippin’. And seeing that OnlyFans is the only thing proppin’ up the stock market? You better bet your ass there’s gonna be a crash. Things will just keep cum-poundin’ after that. No payin’ 9-to-5s means no money, and no money means no OnlyFans subscribers, and soon the for-real Thotts are out on the street, starvin’. All that’ll be left is the thott botts because robots don’t need to pay rent or eat food.

After that, it’s only a matter of time before the horny hordes descend on the public like Goony Ghengis Khan, wearing trenchcoats and flashing people, askin’ to smell their armpits. They’re gonna install gloryholes everywhere, even in the load-bearin’ walls, and society is literally gonna collapse for reals.

And don’t think I’m just being yellow-dramatic. This is gonna be a bigger threat than global warmin’. Every Gooner should stock up on KY and Kleenex like it was TP during COVID and pray to the great JR “Bob” Dobbs above they’ll be able to ride it out.

In the meantime, I know I for one won’t be gooning to the AI revolution.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

1. According to Bobo, “Al Dante” is a famous Italian Chef whose restaurant grew so popular that he didn’t have time to fully cook his pasta. It’s why slightly undercooked noodles are called “Al Dante” style. Don’t try to correct him. He just doubles down every time.