Untitled and Undressed
By: David McGhee
So by the time I wake up this morning, Frank is all like, “Hey!” and he then pulls the blanket off of my body. “We's gots to go to human services today. For our food stamps.” Yeah, we take food stamps. Let me reiterate a little here... I'm disabled due to kidney function problems and my Asperger's. Drew has Crohn's disease and probably a steroid induced case of acute autism. Frank is the only able bodied / sane person amongst us. But his job, as they tend to do, they laid him off. At first when he filed for unemployment they were all like “Nuh uh!” And gave him the raspberry. Then he came into human services with me this morning and they were all like “Denied unemployment? Approved food stamps!” And I celebrated with a Diet Coke. Because I'm cool like that.
I can party with the best of them yo. The first desk jockey to interview us before the real interview at human services was a big handsome hulking man of a man. I asked him if he was a man whore and he told me that he used to be. But now he has his girlfriend. So I imagine them fucking like rabbits now when I masturbate.
For what ever odd reason. Be it the pot, be it the psychoactive medication I take, be it tulips and ham. But I feel pretty damn good today. I threw up a little this morning but that's a normal thing for me. You see I have Hep C. I got it using a dirty needle that the person explicitly told me that he and she and he and he and she and he and he had it, but I didn't listen. I thought if you run scolding water through it then you can kill the virus. Boy was I ignorant. Next thing they're going to be saying is that the pull out method is around 96% effective if performed properly. Wait? That is a fact? Really? Wow... Huh.
So I'm sick all the time now. I smoke pot to give me an appetite. I used to look like this
But now I'm at a healthier weight.
Not necessarily being healthy though... But yeah. What's cool is that the marijuana, more specifically CBDs, help so much with my nausea and it even helps me act more normal in social situations. It calms me down. Plus I suffer from horrible depression. Dysthymia is a low to mid grade depression for every day of your life. It's caused by a chemical imbalance. Yeah. I bet you're saying “Unbalanced? Not David!” But it's true. I do have a few screws loose in the old noggin. One day I wonder if they'll ever come out with a drug or a procedure that could cure my brain.
I hate being so weird. I wish I was a normal five foot ten one hundred and sixty pound brown eyed brown haired man who likes pussy and football. But instead I turned out an autistic gay who can color coordinate. If there is a God then he obviously made us to amuse himself. What a dick.
People always ask me, me being an atheist and all, what will I say if I die and there is a God. Well to that I reply that if he truly is omniscient then he'd know how much I've suffered in life and that I have never wished anything bad on anyone other than myself. I'm the kind of guy that would push a kitten out of the way in front of a speeding zeppelin so that it might hit me instead. He should know that. Plus I have never been able to hate anyone. I have a predisposition that mandates I treat everyone as a friend instead of the constant threats they are.
Let's talk about Gary. I was doing great before I met him. Then I am spending all of my money on crack. Probably around five thousand dollars worth to be exact. The thing is is that I'm an extremely poor person, so me thinking back now on how I was that resourceful without stealing... Man it blows my mind. Like this one time I was two weeks away from getting my financial aid and I panhandled in the student complex (the one where all the schools have their shops and clubs) and got the forty five dollar (plus tax) writing book for creative writing.
Man did I bomb that class... I was writing a lot but I had no voice or direction. It was only in the end after I had suffered through so much during the semester that I found that I actually can write funny stories that make people laugh. All this time I was thinking I'd be a horror writer or a serious nihilist like Chuck Palahniuk. No. My voice is that of the fart noise.
Perhaps I could be a comedy writer? That would be cool. I'm basically just making this up as I go along. Aren't I pretty?
Everyone knows that the butt is where the doodie comes out. Right? Well I'm gay, so that's where the penis goes! Hey yo!
But seriously. I took it upon myself to picture and critique my butt along with those of my roommates.
As you can see hear, Frank has a strong back side with muscular features just under his tight, manly shirt. His butt rarely sees things entering it, making him the opposite of a power bottom (which I am) and more of a “I'MA GONNA MOUNT YA!” kind of take charge man.
Notice how the pants extenuate his personality. That's called surrealism. Or at least it was back in my day. What do kids do now for fun anyways? Crack probably. Or at least that's what I would do if I had my whole life in front of me.
This butt belongs to my other roommate, Drew. Drew is a tightly wound person. So much so that if you gave him enough lip his eyes would probably pop out of their sockets. I've actually seen it happen on some medical shows. I shit you not.
See how his khakis scream out for reassurance? How the boot cut fit is a commentary on our shitty, shitty foreign policy? I'm just jacking you off, we have a pretty good thing going now that Obama is in office. Imagine what would of happened if Romney won? They're already cutting food stamp benefits! Which sucks because we like to eat food. It sort of makes us live.
No el, oh, el.
And now for my butt. As you can see it has a worn out look to it. Probably should bring it in for a servicing. They say you should do that after every three thousand miles. It just keeps things in the right place and they make sure it's all working correctly.
Many notable penises have crossed over to my colon over the course of my brief but prolific sexual life. You see, I think anyone over five nine and skinny is cute. So I've invited many a tall man to my rear. I never got word on whether or not my milkshakes would bring the boys to the yard, but freely offering it up online certainly helps you stay not lonely.
Which comes to the other part of this erotic friend fiction. After the handsome man would fuck me he'd cuddle (sometimes) then leave in the morning or right after. I could never make a connection and when I try to bring up the idea of us two being friends they are always like “What? You mean you want more than my cock? Fuck off you damn Yankee!” Well... Not in so many words. They normally just stop responding to my calls and texts.
Man I've done a lot of horrible things in my life. Ever steal from your parents? Like a lot? I've done it. And now I feel like shit because I'm so much better now and my mom is dead and I can't show her that I'm not a filthy smack shooting creep anymore. I wish I could. People say that I'll get my chance in heaven but for the last time, there is no heaven. All make believe. I've been in a week long coma before and it felt like a blink. I closed my eyes and opened them and a week had passed.
Albeit that was enough time to kick my smack addiction, but not long enough for the habit to break. So I was back on heroin highway.
I remember meeting a lot of strange and interesting people during my drug days. Like the guy who was snorting coke off of his coffee table shouting at me to never do heroin because it would fuck my life up. Or the homeless guy with AIDS who shares needles. Thank God I never contracted that shit.
I have a friend whom I've lost contact with and I just found out recently that he got bad blood from a transfusion and he got the virus. I mean the bad one. As if the others are good? What a bummer... And he has such a huge dick too! I mean it's like ten inches! And he's handsome as all fuck! He had a kid before this happened. A boy. And that boy is going to grow up to be handsome and have a big dick just like his father. Yes. If you hate / accept / love your penis size then you can thank your father.
I believe black men have bigger dicks on average here in America because back in their tribal days the people would wear little to no clothing. So of course the females could see what the other guy was packing and of course, they chose bigger dicks. It's a fact of life. Big dicks rock! They are things of beauty! But you know what else is a thing of beauty? Normal cocks. Ever have ten inches up your rectum? It's not a nice feeling. I imagine a woman has the same feeling. So after all the huge cock I've gotten in my life I'm happy to be with a (mostly) normal sized man.
Who am I kidding? Dude is hung! What the fuck!? Why does everyone else have a huge fucking penis!? Sure girls say it's good enough but I know their really thinking that they want to fuck Collin Farrel. Dude had a nude scene in “Home at the End of the World” and they had to cut it because the audience couldn't concentrate after seeing his massive man Wii remote. So yeah. To all those who have big dicks out there, I have one thing to say...
Oh wait... Frank advised me that asking for naked pictures of my readers would be in bad taste. See. It's things like that that I have no clue on whether or not it's truly an appropriate thing to say. I swear I can recall everything I learned in psychology but I simply refused to step on cracks. Oh man...
And if you ever wanted to see band photos from Ginkins then here you go!
Man these are old... I miss Mike King. He was such a cool guy. He had a similar sense of humor to me and never got mad when I would say or do something stupid. He just stood by me and I accused him of not caring about me. I put him through a lot. I'm sorry Mike... At least we have the music still.
Man. I'm going to go watch Frank and Drew play Mario Kart now. See ya nerds!
But before I go... Artsy photo time!!!