Well, I still read real books, but my confession is along these lines as well. Only it’s Highlander fanfiction with me. Or, more precisely, Methos fanfiction.
And, while I wouldn’t say I hate Buffy, I watched the first season and was all “meh”. I did enjoy what I’ve seen of the first season of Angel, though (I just got Disc 5 from Netflix).
Can I have some of your tomatoes, SpazCat?
Um, thank you, and I will be posting this with one hand. 
SSG Schwartz
I’d love to be in a Sam & Al sandwich. Oh boy oh boy…
I write Joker / Batman slash and Joker / Harley Quinn fanfic. I inspired someone to write a Joker / Barbara Gordon fic. And I’ve come up with some really strange bizarre ideas (not all fanfic related), although I’m sure bizarrer things exist.
I don’t eat potatoes or drink soda or coffee.
I have no interest in Firefly, Babylon 5, Stargate, or a dozen other popular shows.
I hate Yoda and would gladly drop-kick him off a skyscraper. I have found that this statement is the fastest way to piss off Star Wars fans.
Wait, I did what with who?!?
I don’t remember any of this. I plead the 5th! I want a lawyer! :eek: 
Tripler
[sub]Seriously, I don’t remember this. Was this back in college or Mexico or something?[/sub]
Hey! What about me? If you need cleavage, I could probably push 'em together…
You just won the thread. Congrats.
Hey, no fair taking attention away from my magnificent breasts, EJsGirl! pouts
You do know that you are the sexiest Doper, IMO. I won’t say that I do #3 to you, because that would be wrong to admit, but, How you doin’?
pbbth, I still like what I see. Could we get more cleavage pix in that other thread.
SSG Schwartz
Shuffles feet, clears throat, begins to talk, gasps and clears throat again…
I if must confess… I sit down to pee.
What?, I don´t like to spray, splash or aerosolize pee in my bathroom. :o
I quit my job (Friday was my last day) and I feel like a security blanket has been ripped off. I feel…naked and terrified.
Velveeta is delicious.
I love writing about sex almost as much as I enjoy having it…almost. I missed writing incredibly when I had a corporate job and it was one of the things that made me quit because, dammit, I was GOOD at it and it paid fairly well.
I was the industry expert in my product management and government policy niche. Work is going to suffer without me, and that makes me so happy it’s almost worth it to have the vulnerable, unemployed feeling I have now.
My husband loved the new Batman movie, but when we saw it last night to celebrate my newfound freedom, I thought, “Meh.” I also couldn’t help but wish that Christian Bale would knock off with the Batman voice - that was annoying as hell.
Even though I’m calm about it in front of my son, I don’t like the dark, either. If I have to get up in the middle of the night to pee, I will move as quickly as possible to get from the bathroom to the safety of the bed I share with my husband.
I HATED the Dark Knight. And when I was dragged to see it a second time, I went to sleep about halfway through just so I wouldn’t have to see the rest of it.
One day last week I overslept to the point that I didn’t have time to shower before work, so I washed my hair in the sink in the little bathroom with honeysuckle hand soap from BB&B. My hair looked great and smelled fantastic to boot. So I did it again this week.
Sometimes I wear the wild coloured clip-in extensions from Hot Topic to work.
Hey, you’re just like me! And I’m of substantially Italian origin, believe it or not.
More of mine:
I have not appreciated current pop music since approximately age seven.
I mostly couldn’t give two squirts about fiction, sports, games, or movies made since about 1965.
I regularly check out women in their 50s and 60s if they’re at all stylish or well-kept.
I speak in weird icky-baby talk to cats.
Speaking of weird, I spelled it wierd for years even though I knew better.
I’ve eaten Spam™ (a substance that is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike meat) and …
…it wasn’t completely horrible, and I could see eating it again if push came to shove and I was allowed to use my big, heavy cast-iron pan (to club myself into unconsciousness in order to repress the memory)
Before I became a vegan, I used to love spam.
Wow, I didn’t even know that was a dirty secret or anything.
OK, I’ve been reading silently along up until this point, but I can’t keep silent any longer. I must stand up and stand beside Ale and admit that I, too sit to pee.
Really, it’s a simple matter of physics and cleanliness, really.
Oh, and I am currently happily watching the “Puppy Games” on Animal Planet. 
Don’t pout dear, yours are truly magnificent. Trust me on this, I have been looking at breasts longer than you have been alive.
I would stare at yours anytime and anywhere.
Confession: I also sit down to pee, it empties my bladder better.
Whenever my SO gets mad and yells and won’t stop I have the overwhelming urge to buy a taser with extra battery packs and just walk up to him in mid rant and tase him until he does the jitterbug on the floor, then change batteries and do it some more. I used to fantasize about shooting him in the knee but I’m a little less bloodthirsty these days. I must be getting old.
Speaking of which, I find guys in their late teens and early twenties irresistably cute and if I had the opportunity I’d screw the living daylights out of most of them. If most of them could see the mental movies I have of doing so they’d either faint from shock or never lose the stiffie. My brain is just that good!
Of course the reason why I don’t bother acting on those mental movies is that I’m completely aware that the reality would be nowhere near as interesting as my fantasy is so I’d really rather keep the fantasy intact.
Also, getting screwed by a condom covered dick makes me ill–it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to me. Another good reason to remain monogamous.
I don’t drink pop, it makes me gag. On very seldom occasions (maybe once every two or three years) I get the urge to have a root beer float, but that’s it.
I seldom drink alcohol, but on the few occasions when I do tie one on I really enjoy having the perfect excuse to be a really rowdy bitch.
I like checking out cleavage too. Heck, I even like checking out my own!
Most “classic” movies bore me stiff and I avoid 'em like plague. I’ve never seen “Casablanca” or “The Maltese Falcon” or any number of old boring movies and I never will. I’m really okay with that.
I hate bathing suits–I mean really, really hate them. I finally bought one two years ago, first one in twenty years, in order to go swimming with my grandchild. Generally speaking I just swim nekkid, and I don’t really care if it’s a clothing optional beach or not. I try to be discreet, but I don’t really give a shit if people get offended or freaked out. I figure they don’t have to look if they can’t stand the sight.
Whew–I better quit before I REALLY give something away!
Fine, I’ll step up to the plate on this one. Use me. I don’t care. I can take it. sniff
And yes, 27 is “early twenties”, and yes, the reality would be as interesting
Come to Daddy
Well, this IS the confessions thread, right?
I despise carrots. They are Satan’s own food. Cooked, raw, shredded - whatever. Death to he or she that brings me a carrot.
I found out I am allergic to shrimp, and just didn’t care. People look at me like I’m from Alpha Centauri because it doesn’t bother me that I can’t eat shrimp without blowing up into He With Hives That Might Die, but it doesn’t.
I plan to kidnap Joss Stone and… well, I haven’t thought the rest of that out yet. But it’s gonna be good stuff, I promise.
I also sit to pee but only late at night when it’s dark and easier to miss while standing. It’s really, really damn hard to miss while sitting.
Boxers. Either silk or those spandex-y, silky feeling ones. Boys gotta be comfortable, ya know?
I have a secret, imaginary life in which I am retired from a long NHL career, have married my trophy wife who is the cutest, blondest thing you ever saw. Also, a nymphomaniac. And she has a twin sister. We play together in a band, where I am the guitarist that never sings (you heard my voice? ), the wife plays fiddle/guitar, her sister plays drums (oh, and she’s gay and lives in the house out back on my ranch with my housekeeper, the excruciatingly hot Venezuelan housekeeper, an ex-GF of mine that I’m clearly on good terms with (but not like that) plays keyboards and this big hairy guy plays bass. We play mostly country-ish rock, never record in a studio, because we just like paying in front of people. I have this big-ass Honeysuckle Rose-like motor home we travel in, and go from town to town for a few weeks at a time. Periodically, when a song plays in my car on a CD or my I-Pod, I picture me and the gang playing it at some county fair.
I might have made that last one up, I’m not telling either way.
I have to pee right now. I may be daring and remain standing.
ETA, yes I stood.
The ground floor bathroom here in Casa Bus (aka: the powder room) is the one I was permitted to decorate. At last count, between pictures, stuffed things, soap dishes, pictures, cards and books, it has over 35 monkeys in it. We call it the Monkey Room. It’s all mine.