He's PedoBear.
Perhaps you've noticed some changes to my blog. Yeah. It'll all come together in a moment, trust me. I'm not really happy about it.
I rarely even update my blog, at least not with any regularity. So imagine how pissed off I was when my husband informed me that my blog's old name shares the name of a super disturbing, super creepy, skin crawlingly disgusting piece of clopfic. What's that? You aren't a disturbed freak of humanity? You aren't into explicit fantasies involving a beloved children's toy? You don't know what clopfic is? Oh, how I envy your innocence.
It's disgusting. It's pathetic. I prefer not knowing that slice of humanity exists. But I definitely prefer knowing that people looking for that tale could end up stumbling across my blog. And I don't know that any of them did, stumble across my blog, that is. But I'd prefer to distance myself from it just the same, not make that a possibility.
So I'm hanging up what I thought was a cute, fun blog name, walking away from it and having nothing to do with it (as best I can). The idea of there being any overlap between my intermittent posts and ramblings and this sick universe makes me want to puke.
So if someone out there, somehow, somewhere, ends up here while looking for that? You deserve the Pedobear. And not in an ironic, meme, internet joke kind of way. In a judgmental "you disgust me and I sincerely hope you are arrested in an SVU style sting operation" way. Seriously.