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DiBuduo is the author of a nonfiction book, “A Penis Manologue: One Man’s Response to the Vagina Monologues,” and two volumes of his signature “flash-fiction poetry,” as well as several collections of short stories. Cryonic Man a paranormal romance novel was published in 2015. Crime A Day was Published November of 2015, and Story Time @ The Chicagoua Cafe was published June 2016.
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His short fiction and poetry also appear in anthologies, online journals, and recently, in Weekend Reads, a collection appropriately subtitled “Twisted Stories, Twisted Mind!”

He also has a collaborative collection of connected fantasy stories with author Kate Robinson.
He’s putting the finishing touches on The Mountain will cover you, a novel about aliens, witches, and Gods.
Read more about DiBuduo and his interests at

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Strange Fetishes

Strange Fetishes

All I do is hang my head and cry because of
a foolish desire to put out my fire. Choosing
to do that made me lose the only one who
loved me half as much as I loved her. She
always got aroused by my flatulence and
suffered from Eproctophilia.

When she claimed she’s not ashamed that
my stink no longer turned her thoughts to pink.
So I told her about the murders I had committed.
That news rekindled her love for me because she
had another fetish called Hybristophilia.

She came to bed with a cold, a sight to behold
as mucus filled her nose spilling over her lips when
she spit. She sneezed, and I got so aroused, I
sucked snots from her nose, because I suffer
from Mucophilia.

I awoke embracing her giant Teddy bear
and became aware that when I had sex last
night it wasn’t with her but with the stuffed
bear. Then I realized I also suffered from
Plushophilia and really loved plush animals.

To overcome this phobia I dreamed of Amazons
on mars. Beautiful alien woman who would make
me king as the only man on Mars. While engaged
in sex with a dozen of them, it hit me that I
suffered from Exophilia.

After this epiphany I changed my dreams right
or wrong, to thoughts of women I had raped and
killed. Their ghosts appeared to me and begged
for more sex. It was then I realized I now had

I rushed to the john and puked my guts into the
toilet. The one who only loved me half as much
as I loved her saw what I did. She became
aroused and dragged me off to bed. I Knew she
suffered from, Emetophilia.

Love is going to live here again. No more loneliness,
only happiness. Birds will be singing as I go on
dreaming without a doubt that we indeed do have
and love our strange fetishes.