Get Fucked: My Impolite Response to Internet Censorship

If adults pay taxes, they deserve the right to choose what they read

We’re adults, we pay our taxes and one day we’ll die. That’s the deal.
While I’m still breathing and paying the same as everyone else, I’ll be damned if someone tells me what I can or can’t read, write, or get off to.

I grew up in a world that told me I was disgusting, that queer desire was something to hide, not celebrate. I watched guys get bullied for being who they were. Back then, I didn’t have the strength or the guts to stand up for them. Now I do, and this time I’m armed with sarcasm, knowledge, and a functioning Wi-Fi connection.

The Guilty Parties of Internet Censorship

Apparently, Patreon, Substack, Medium, Facebook, PayPal and Stripe have decided that policing adult content is their new moral mission. Not hate speech, noooo, and not even fake news or deep fakes. Not political manipulation. No, the real threat to society is a gay writer posting a steamy short story.
They aren’t protecting anyone from bullies; they’ve simply become better-dressed bullies with brand guidelines. These platforms and payment processors are feeding division. They could have me on their side as a customer, supporter, and ally, but instead they’re choosing to divide.

Growing up teaches you a few things: you can’t dodge death or taxes, but you can pick your battles. And this one is mine. Internet Censorship.

Paying Taxes and Equal Rights

If I pay the same taxes as everyone else, I deserve the same right to live freely, legally, and creatively. The issue isn’t adult content; it’s age verification. Build systems that prevent minors from seeing what they shouldn’t, then let grown-ass adults decide for themselves. It’s that simple.

Don’t get me started on paying taxes, when the very people who dictate these censorship laws, aren’t even paying tax.

If religion’s your thing, great. The algorithm should serve you sermons until your rosary beads melt.
If you prefer erotica, fantastic. It should deliver stories hotter than a microwave burrito at two in the morning.
That’s the whole model. Don’t like religion? Coo, then don’t read it. Don’t like adult content? Excellent, again, don’t read it. But don’t you fucking dare censor it.

We’re living in ridiculous times. AI is snatching jobs, rent is a joke, and people are hustling to survive. When someone finds a legal way to make money with a little creativity and skin, you’d think they’d get applause. Instead, these platforms trip over their own morals to shut it down.

They’d rather you be unemployed and broke than horny and self-sufficient.

Elephants and Kardashians in the Same Room

And let’s talk about the elephant in the room. This internet censorship isn’t equal. Straight adult content slips through the filters like a Kardashian promo, but show two men kissing and suddenly it’s a violation of community standards.
Apparently, a blowjob is fine as long as there’s a vagina involved. That’s not morality; that’s marketing, and it reeks of homophobia in a suit and tie.

3I Atlas

Meanwhile, out in space, a comet called 3I Atlas is flying past Earth. Scientists are arguing whether it’s natural or alien-made. If it’s aliens, I like to imagine them looking down and watching us clutch our pearls over consensual gay smut while billionaires build penis-shaped rockets.
If they’re observing, they’re probably wondering why our greatest technological triumph is creating AI that can write about sex but not one that lets adults read it. Are you proud of that Earth? Because I’m not.

Maybe those aliens evolved past this nonsense by learning acceptance. Maybe they stopped pretending sex was shameful and grew up.
We, on the other hand, still let shareholders decide what kind of orgasm counts as appropriate.

I used to be an IT project manager. Then the job market tanked, and I went back to what I love: writing. Turns out, I’m damn good at writing gay erotica. But the same platforms and processors that bankroll oil spills, gambling, and weapons somehow find me too indecent to exist.

To that, I say: get fucked.

Until the day I stop paying equal taxes, I’ll write, read, and publish whatever I want.
If you want to stop me, explain why straight porn is “content creation” but gay erotica is a “policy violation.” Then tell me why churches get tax breaks while artists get banned.
And after that, you can still, very politely, get fucked.

Don’t like it? Don’t read it.
But don’t you dare silence it.

I’m not going away. This is the hill I’ll die on, and I’ll be naked, loud, and taxable when I do.

And when I do die, please make sure my obituary violates community standards.