Alex's Boner Goes to Washington

Alex's Boner Goes to Washington

By: David McGhee

This is me in my first band Ginkins!

And here's me doing a photo shoot for Goodbye Timebomb.

And now back to the zany world of David McGhee! At least I think it's pretty out there. I don't know. I'm not a good judge on my own work you know? Just slip me a twenty and we'll call it even.

Alex stared into his ten gallon fish tank. The one that housed his pet piranha. Well... Not piranha. Those are illegal in America I think? I could Google it but then you wouldn't have anything to complain about when you write your master thesis on my big black cock. Its name was Megabyte. It was fairly large and had graduated to eating small frogs and such. Sometimes Alex liked to cut off his finger tips and feed them to Megabyte.

As he was using a potato peeler to cut his nails when Suzy walked into the room via stage right. “What about a banana?” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

“I am feeling fat. And sassy.” Alex said nonchalantly as he peeled off his right index finger's tip skin, taking the fingernail with it. He dropped the bloody piece of Alex sex into the water. The blood started to fog up the tank. Surely he would have to clean it soon. He wondered if the piranha would get hepatitis C from drinking his blood and eating his spooge. Because he totally had hepatitis from when he shot up with a dirty needle. The man had lied to him and said that he had full blown AIDS. But to Alex's dismay he contracted treatable hepatitis. What a mother fucker?

He thought back to the time when he was humping this hippo of a man named Roger. Roger was fat. And sassy. Giving head had never been so much fun before. Well, Alex didn't give head. He was above that. No. Roger did all the dick sucking. And oh how Alex enjoyed cumming in people(s) mouths. It was the only thing that brought him joy these days. Oh how he used to frolic in the woods, wearing nothing but his sexy sex thin body for warmth. He had a six pack. And he began to drink them all in one sitting.

Feeling fat. And sassy. Alex made eye contact with Suzy and licked his lips.

“Oh please!” Suzy said with disgust. “You must be this high to ride this ride.” She put her hand to her hip to indicate the favored height.

“But...” Alex began. “I'm like, Totally six three.”

Suzy's face contorted into a mass of confused tendons and facial muscles. “Then I suppose you can fuck me?” She said questionably. She stood up to her full five foot stature and looked at the tall skinny white boy sitting on the recliner next to a nick-knack shelf that had an incredibly apathetic fish living in a ten gallon aquarium on top of it. Oh my yes, this fish was apathetic alright. He once ate this young man's penis. The kid cried and said that he had ruined his life. The fish took no notice of his cries of pain and humiliation. For he had just eaten himself some soft bloody stuff. And soft bloody body stuff tasted like soft bloody body stuff and that was a good thing.

The kid later had a penis transplant from a dead porn star. He was so big at the age of five that he wound up doing high profile kiddie porn just to make ends meet in this economy. Oh my yes. And the one you can thank for this is the fucking piranha. Don't you just like saying piranha? It's like a bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb and a zulu.

What's a zulu you ask? Why it's that thing that does that thing at that place where you do the thing but not the other thing because that thing once raped and nearly killed your mother. Oh did I just insinuate that I would write the imagery. Of your mother being raped. By a huge dicked man. Can you picture that? Maybe he's a Mexican? And so what if he was? You fucking racist twat waffle!

Alex punched Suzy in the face and they both hugged. Her lip had burst with blood and guts. Or at least what had looked like guts. The bottom tooth broke through her bottom lip. It was quite disgusting. So disgusting in fact that Alex whistled for his body guard to come up there and get this bitch did. Fucking ho. Thinking that he'd want to fuck a five foot tall girl. Who likes short girls anyways? He did. He fucking did. So when his body guard got to his side he told him to go out and bring him the nuts of the kid who got his dick bit off by his piranha when Alex smeared blood from the kid's finger all over his pee pee and then submersed him into the tank, thus allowing the normally apathetic fish to go completely ape shit and bite the little fucker's dick off. The fact that the kid was making more money doing large dicked kiddie porn than he was making it with short bitches and then pretending like their bank account had been hacked by the government for Homeland Security shit. Because that entity can pretty much do what ever the fuck it wanted to. Fuck with the mob, maybe. Fuck with Homeland Security? Fuck that fucking fuctity fuck shit.

There once was a dog and Bingo was his name-oh. N-IG-G-E-R.

Wait. What? You fucking racist piece of sperm and egg miracle of life! How dare you! You're a white man living in a white world doing white girl things because love ain't no thang. You know what I mean? What-is-up-my-homie? Said the little white guy with Aspergers. He grew up in a prominently black and white (very few chinks) area of Duluth Georgia. David being autistic was always confused when people brought up the subject of race because he doesn't see people as anything really. People continue to be the prominent (excuse me for my laziness) thing that eludes him when it came to remembering people and shit. He always wore a frown but deep down inside he just wanted everyone to be happy.

Is That so wrong? Apparently so. Because immediately after his twenty third birthday he was arrested for possession of heroin. Amazing how time flies. His veins haven't been hungry for much lately. Apparently this drug Suboxone stops the craving for opiates but he was convinced that it stopped his craving for opiates. So he took it. It was a bitch getting it prescribed. It's so fucking expensive too. When Alex was like twenty seven and had a lifetime of mental and physical mishaps, he was finally given the drug treatment for opiate dependence. He did awesome on it and almost got through probation.

If it weren't for me relapsing and being honest that just getting back on Suboxone instead of being on Suboxone and going to this group home rehab thing. That place has fucking bed bugs! No way! And he was honest about this.

His probation officer. Being the sweet and caring person she was. Told me to come to court the next morning and everything will be fine. Alex came into the courtroom with a smile and a feeling of a ton of knots in his back just unloosening. He was in good spirits indeed!

Probation violation?

Three years in jail?

Three felonies?

What the fuck!? He had admitted he had a problem and totally did fine before without the rehab. He wasn't even given time to go back home and get his kitten's living situation corrected. He went to jail. And the kitten died. He never forgave them for that. In fact he was sure the gypsy curse on them to make them all burn when they pee and have pussy shit coming out of the... Okay, he totally fucked up probation by giving the members of his justice team an incurable case of syphilis. But it was like totally worth it. When he got out of prison for the second time he wound up using that as a campaign slogan for the Republican Party. His incurable case of syphilis was in fact, the patient zero. Soon the rest of the world had this new strain of syphilis that made their winkies and unis puss up and burn when the person who adorns such venereal attire urinates. But it also made them happy. Yes it quickly goes to the brain and attacks the amygdala, which conrtols anger and shit like that. But for some reason only the emotion of happiness was spared. No one was depressed. Suicides dropped to zero. Everybody was hugging and fucking in the street and doing a job that they love because the government decreed that, after the house wiped the puss out of their dicks and va jay jays, that college would be free and anyone could go!

He was both hated and loved. What the hell am I saying? Wouldn't hating be like, outlawed? Imagine all those haterz out there. On the internet and in reality TV shows. They all just got along. And then they did the diddly dance with their diseased genitals. Everyone already had it. So why the fuck not?

Soon those who wanted to be police officers were out of a job. But they didn't need money anymore because he went to college and got what ever he wanted based on what kind of work he had done during a set period of time.

Sadly therapy soon died as an occupation because people just talked it out and they like, totally didn't give a shit anymore. Not for bad reasons. But for good reasons.

Smiley face.

E, Oh, El.

My balls itch. I scratch and I scratch but it won't stop bleeding! What the fuck man!?

That's okay for mister sexy Alex that I made up like a loving God would have. If Alex were God (After having the amygdala fucking zonked in it's arse from the super duper fun syphilis that was like being on ten milligrams of codeine for the first time and having a virginal system.) he'd totally like, fuck chicks and shit. Because he was like totally straight bra. You know bra? Oh yes. Give it to me baby. Uh huh! Uh huh! But alas his penis was just for the chicks out there bra.

His balls totally itched so he typed on instead of scratching them. Oh he had tried doing it above the pants but honest to God he couldn't get that itch of crotch rot out of his system without digging into the moist, fragrant crotch flesh with his nine inch nails. Bet you thought I was gonna say penis didn't ya? Ha ha.

Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis! Penis!

There! If this happens to be in a book you are reading then you are welcome. I just killed a tree to tell a dick joke. I am awesome.

And Alex was awesome. Not because David had syphilis too. It was because he was high as a motherfucker on a CBD enriched pot lollipop. Because it's like, totally legal here. What are you going to do? Fuck me? Eeeeewww! There is a chance that you are a girl and... Perhaps if you really, really needed it I suppose? Okay. Let me just slide it on in there and... What? It's not in all the way? I give you three inches of my six and a half inch ding dong to hear you complain about how it's only “sort of” fucking you?

Get out of my room bitch! You stupid whore! I'm going to hit you! That's right, take a punch to the face you dirty slut! Your blood will be feasted upon by my kitty cat's lickity kitty licks. For he loves the taste of the blood of an abused woman. I have no idea why either. I've only punched one girl in my life and shit so it was just a really weird coincidence you know? Having your kitty cat lick the blood of the girl you just slugged on your knuckles? He just totally offered so I just let him lick me with his prickly tongue. Ha ha. I said prickly.

What was I talking about before giving you the kind of love that an emotionally unstable and highly abusive man can give you. Shh... It's okay now. We can make love. Shh... Just lie back down and... What? You didn't wash out your cooch and now it's dripping with my semen?

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

Sexy Time Miniature Golf

Sexy Time Miniature Golf

By: David McGhee

So we called Derby up and asked him if he'd like to play with some balls that afternoon. There was no hesitation on his part and he said he'd be there in a bit. But after a few hours of waiting (and ten levels of Mario beaten) I texted him asking what the hell was the hold up. It turned out that Derby was using hydroponics to grow his pot and now he was having a water leak. Frank laughed it off and called him a loser for not using soil.

You hear that Derby? You're a loser!

Ha ha... No, just kidding. Please don't hit me.

Frowny face.

After eating an edible chocolate bar we headed off to the course. I remember the car ride being uneventful, perhaps even stressful, for we had to not listen to my music along the way. Don't get me wrong, hippies are people too, sometimes, but their music just doesn't make sense to me. Why would you spend fifty to a hundred bucks to watch people jam around for three hours while only playing four songs? Further was okay I suppose. But maybe I would have had fun at Dave Mathews? (with central heating!) but judging from the crowd at their lot I would have been drowning in jock seminal fluid. Although that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. After all jocks do provide an erotic service to all gay men. Perhaps the women enjoy it too but we're not here to make them happy, are we fellas?

We got to the course and the reception booth was empty. I smiled and immediately started saying “heeelllloooo? We wants to play with your balls!” and like magic a young lady appeared. Frank paid because he's my sugar daddy (at least until I get food stamps again) and we picked out our balls and golf clubs.

I picked pink with blue. Ever see a more natural color for a man to choose?

First hole I basically hit my maximum and wound up smashing my golf club against the AstroTurf in a fit of lusty rage. The next hole I wound up hitting it in in two tries. This continued until about the seventh hole, when I totally lost my shit and started yelling at a rabbit.

It's not that I don't like miniature golf per se, in fact I am quite good at it and it has been said that if I actually tried I could whip Frank and Drew's pasty asses. With the edible in full effect I began making love to the ball... No actually I just started getting frustrated and guided the ball into the holes by walking besides it and gently putting it as I went along. By this time Frank and Drew could see that I wasn't taking the game seriously. But all in all I had a lot of fun.

To be honest I think that's all I am going to post today... I just don't haves it in me to rant and rave about various topics of interest. That is, unless anyone wants to teach me math?

Untitled and Undressed

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?

*David*

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!

*rim shot*

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.

Frowny face.

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...

*sigh*

And if you ever wanted to see band photos from Ginkins then here you go!

And

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!!!

Kick Ass Two Kicks Ass!

Kick Ass Two Kicks Ass!

By: David McGhee

So the day started like any other day of mine. Frank woke me in the morning and told my sleepy self some important things to remember. Then I went back to sleep and promptly forgot everything. All I know is that there was a cigarette on my book case when I woke up, and that made me happy.

Smiley face.

El, oh, el.

So after the first cigarette of the day I realized that I was all alone in the apartment. I think at that point I was remembering that Drew had a doctor's appointment. So I wasn't freaking out too bad. I took it upon myself to watch the original Naked Gun on Netflix. I forgot how much I love old Zucker Bros comedies. It sucks that they suck now. I mean... Have you seen Scary Movie Five? The only thing good about it is the opening scene with Charlie Sheen and I'm not even sure if that counts because the man probably doesn't even remember filming it. Geesh!

All the old jokes and one liners came back to me during the movie. “Nice beaver!” “Thanks, I just had it stuffed.” Pure comedy gold! Not as comedic as say a knock to the crotch but the movie has taste and style. It's the only movie series to get better with every sequel. One day I shall sit down and watch the other two. But for now I'm happy knowing that I gave the Zucker Bros a royalty check from watching Naked Gun on Netflix.

Weird Al Yankovic appears in every movie. Did you know that? The first movie he's coming off the plane. The second one has him being the bad guy in the corner near the door telling the copper that they've had it, coppers. And the third one he is with Vanna White I think at the Oscars. I could look it up but then that wouldn't make me a lazy bastard. And I don't want to disappoint my audience, do I? The only logical solution is to just make shit up.

We ran into this bearded guy at the Further lot at Red Rocks and apparently he made nice with Frank and Drew because they hung out with him a little before coming home. Hell. Who wouldn't wanna hang out with this guy?

Upon their arrival home I was told that I better get my good shoes on because I was going miniature golfing. Woo hoo! Now for the pregame breakdown. I paced the house about fifty times building myself up to it. I counted my steps and washed my hands six times in an hour. Man I needed a cigarette. So I got one. And then it was gone. And I was sad.

When we got to the miniature golf place we noticed the closed sign on the window. Not to be deterred from having a good time we all yelled “FUCK YOU MINIATURE GOLD ESTABLISHMENT!” and looked up some movie times.

Kick Ass 2 seemed like the best option. So we went to Dickies BBQ to eat and kill some time. Let me tell you their brisket and chicken are soooooo moist. It was like eating into jelly almost. Or Jell-O. You may have heard from various sources that there is always room for Jell-O. Let me let you in on a little secret... Depending on how big your container is, there is not always room for Jell-O. It's complete bullshit! That is unless they mean that there is always room in your stomach for Jell-O. In which case I'd also like to call shenanigans. What horse cock! If I'm full the last fucking thing I'm going to do is eat some Jell-O. What do they think I am? Fucking David the Jell-O eating machine who eats Jell-O after eating an already big meal? Fuck you. And the horse you rode in on.

We got to the Elvis Cinema (dollar theater) and bought our tickets for Kick Ass Two. It was slow getting started but when it went into full swing, oh man did it get gory! That girl, Hit Girl (I will not be bothered by IMDB right now. I have my reasons.) was so fucking awesome! And that geeky guy who plays Kick Ass went from scrawny geek to muscular hot sex man! I bet he gets tons of blow jobs for his body on top of the fact that he's starring in two major motion pictures. I'm sure he rides around in a limo in downtown LA snorting coke off of a hookers ass.

I've done that before. Not the limo thing but the snorting drugs off of a hookers ass. No one said the hooker had to be male though. Or even female. From what I remember I just saw it's ass. It could have been Betty White for all I care. I mean... Really. Cocaine!

Damn shit will numb your jaw and take all of your money as if you had married it and it's now seeking custody of the children. Fucking bitch. She can have them! What retard would put me in charge of a kid's life? I mean... I can barely figure out which shoe to put on first let alone feed, shelter, teach, and guide a youngster into prosperity would be the last thing that I would be qualified for.

But then again many people come into parenting without any prior knowledge and extensive criminal records and they have children just fine. Problem is that gay men don't get no love when it comes to adoption. Rosie O’Donnell went through hell in a malfunctioning golf cart to get her kid. And Dan Savage... Well he got his kid because all in all he's a pretty stable human being.

I swear when I was younger I used to wait by the pool table where my father sharked and he'd have me go to and from the bar giving him drinks. And my mom drinks. And their friends drinks. I was always wanting to help out regardless of the situation. But I've learned over the course of my life that if you protect shit your going to have it smudged all over your eyeballs in a big old handful of shit to the face. I'm serious. I used to be a heavy drug user and it totally fucked over eight or so years of my life. I mean it helped me fuck it up further. I was doing plenty of fucking up before I found heroin but damn... Fuck. Man that shit will become your whole life if you let it.

I remember before I got heavy into it I tried coke. Off a hookers ass. And I was telling the man who was in a band who owned the apartment that I had tried it once, loved it, and promptly cut ties with the guy who supplied it. It was just too scary. I knew I loved pain pills so smoking heroin seemed like the right thing to do. Why did I do it for so long? Imagine living under a cloud of self doubt and pure hatred for everything that is yourself. So much so that it physically hurts to move because your so depressed. I mean knot city and puking every time I went out in public. Heroin... Heroin made me, for the first time, feel like the world was a good place where people loved me.

Of course I know now that people love me but I didn't have the mind at the time to see it. I had the whole scene in front of me. The whole Denver oyster at my doorstep and I first fuck it up by being a creepy weird guy then I solidify my reputation as bad news when I started smoking dope in the bathroom at the Hi Dive. I know they knew. That's why they always kicked me out whenever I went to a show there. I don't blame them... I just hope they can forgive me for all the stupid stuff I did both sober and on drugs. It was sort of embarrassing being that weird guy. Persona non grata. I used to burn bridges so unwittingly that I was totally dumbfounded as to why my best friend Mike broke off our relationship only to find out later that, well to be truthful, I was sort of a dick.

I mean... The guy has a life. I should of known that. But I was seeing the world through the eyes of an undiagnosed autistic. I didn't know that what I feel and how I work were normal things for people like me to do. Most kids get diagnosed with Asperger's at age four to six. I wasn't diagnosed until 2009. Giving me plenty of time to fuck my life over before trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild my Emerald City beyond the hills. If only someone would of caught it sooner...

The funny thing is that I believe the Denver Police and the Denver Justice system saved my life. I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for their tireless efforts to rehabilitate me. It took damn near five years and a stay at the state mental facility in Pueblo Colorado... It was there that a psychologist took me aside and told me to look into Asperger's syndrome. I learned more about it and I was shocked to find out that people like me exist everywhere. People like me who can calculate the dimensions of a three dimensional sphere the size of Jupiter just using our minds and a little technology, but we don't look both ways before crossing the street.

I swear I can remember almost every fact I hear about science or something but when it came to remembering what my friends look like in a crowd... Or names. It usually takes me a while to learn names. I've developed a system of nudges and pulls to test the weather of a person before unleashing certain aspects of my personality. It's hit or miss and I miss more often than not. But on the times when I'm on, it's the greatest feeling in the world.

Smiley face.

El, oh, el.

Hrmm... Also today I designed a new button. Here is the new button.

It was supposed to be funny but it turned out more like modern street art with it's slang and cartooning. Definitely modern. I wanted it to come out cute and funny but instead some poor asshole is going to believe that it has some hidden deep meaning just below the kitten's eyes. Well let me tell you what you'll see if you look closely. Vectors and pixels. That's it my friends.

*sigh*

I've decided to go to the Art Institute in Denver in the Spring. I'm good at art and it's going to be nothing but art projects so... I think I'll at least do better than I did at CCD. Oh man the drugs I've bought from that campus... I swear everyday it was like walking into velociraptor refuge wearing nothing but lamb chops to cover my groin area.

The old junkies would curse at me when I didn't give them money. Then they'd curse me for getting back into the junk. Then they'd curse me when I told them that I was done with the Denver drug scene. I'd like to tell you that this decision was based more on my moral resolve instead of how shitty the quality of the coke downtown was getting... But it is what it is.

I now live in a wonderful apartment with my love and my roommate love. I love them because they are made of candy kisses smothered in caramel hugs! I know. Pretty deep huh?

All in all I think I had a pretty good day. Maybe tomorrow I can write some more and do a little running. I've started the foundation of my running career already. I've started walking ten blocks a day down hill and up. And I've started running little bits of it. I've found the secret to not getting that stitch in your side. The secret is to use meditation like breathing while you are being constantly active. You breath in real slow and exhale equally slowly. You'll get the urge to take in one quick deep breath but that will put you on the road to stitch town. You have to resist that overwhelming feeling and just keep your breathing paced. You'll be fine. I promise you.

Speaking of which, I was taught something called “Heart Math” in the state looney bin. You see you find a nice quiet place to sit or lay down. Then you imagine yourself in a calming setting. Then you choose your animal that will be by your side / on your lap. And you just concentrate on the touch of the animal's skin / fur on your hands.

Me personally, I pretend I'm in a library with a kitten on my lap. It's purring and kneading on my lap. It's so into me petting it that sometimes I drop it. But then I pick it up and resume loving it. While doing this I concentrate on my breathing. Timing my petting of the kitty with the breaths I take. I get so in the zone that I can get my heart rate down to like fifty or sixty beats per minute. One time I hit fifty five and they had to have me stop doing it. It was funny because everyone was certain that I wasn't paying attention during the lectures. But the joke was on them because when they first brought out the heart monitor I was the only one who could do it. But then I taught the other ones who wanted to learn how to do it. Soon whenever something got out of hand in the ward we'd just go sit down and pet our animal while breathing in and out slowly.

I suppose you could try it too.

Go ahead. I'll wait.

Probably do a little writing while you are doing so.

What are you waiting for?

Fine!

*does a little dance, makes a little love*

My Days Among the Hippies

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Tall, Dark, and Legal

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The many musings of David McGhee

The many musings of David McGhee

By: David McGhee

So anyways, today I hung out with Erin again. No... Actually that was yesterday. I began my day as always, to my alarm cock. It slapped me awake and reminded me that I was meeting Erin somewhere, somehow. And that I should getsa going already if I want to make this very important engagement. Not unlike the french movie “A Very Long Engagement,” where a lonely girlfriend of a soldier hears about how her big cocked, horny ass mother fucking boyfriend stuck it up her ass and stabbed in guts from the inside. Thrusting harder and harder he fucked, and fucked and fucked

Wait. No. Actually it's about this chick who has this man lover thing and he goes off to war and is reported dead. But this chick totally knows that he's alive. So she goes out and about and finds him. The end. Fucking awesome movie! If only there was more thrusting in it though...

But. Wait. How does this relate to me? I forgot. Anyways, we hung out at her place for a bit and smoked a cigarette. Then we went to the food bank and smoked a cigarette. Then we went over to my mental health provider to pick up my pills and smoke a cigarette. Then she basically said “fuck it.” and decided to come with me back to my place.

If you think that something happened, then you are correct. We had some pot lollipops and some flower and then we smoked a cigarette. I can't stress the cigarette smoking enough people!

Why do I smoke? Because I love waking up in the morning shivering and feeling a burning sensation from nicotine withdrawal. Oh yes. I like to smoke that first cigarette and get that amazing head rush! Before I smoked I thought you could only get that feeling hyperventilating into a paper bag. Boy those cigarette people are smart. Lobby the government to incriminate pot but allow them to sell highly addictive products. If you ask me they should outlaw liquor. Nothing good comes from it. But then again didn't we try that already? Fuck. I'd visit a speak easy. Just because it would be taboo. And I'm a bad ass. No really! I am! Sort of. I once ate a whole spicy taco. That's cool right?

Shut up! No one is talking to you!

No. Please don't go... I'm sowwy.

Smiley face el oh el

I would trade each and every one of you for a cigarette right now. I swear I wish I could go below two cigarettes a day.

Today we gots us some furniture. That's right bitches, I'm typing this on a desk sitting in a chair! Hurray for evicting people who don't pay their rent and have all their life's belongings put out on the street for scum like us to pick at it like a bunch of vultures! And I mean that too. If your stuff was to happen to be on your lawn and you weren't there to defend it, I'd take your big screen TV no big deal. I have very little time for most emotions. I found that feeling sorry for people takes way too much effort. I wish I was more technically inclined. I'd build a robot to feel sorry for the poor bastards of the world for me.

You see, I am the nouveau riche'. Or sort of. I got me two people living with me that I love and who are willing to split the rent with me. It's neato! For once I'm not worried about being exposed to crack and crack hoes. There was this one girl that came to the door at like three in the morning sometimes, waking Gary and I up (if we hadn't smoked too much crack that is...), and pissing Gary off. He would be all like “Unless you will fuck me I will not let you sleep here tonight.” I admired Gary for his sheer manliness. He was so rude and crude and just a bad ass dude. The kind of person that's total man but has absolutely nothing to show for anything in life. And who will continue to do so just as long as hookers and crack cocaine are freely available on west Colfax.

Yup. I wished I had his body but my intelligence. He was tall and hung and a total moron. Ancient Aliens? What in the flying cock of Michelangelo's David was that all about? I hate people who discount our elders just because they were from the past. Saying aliens built the pyramids is like a big cock slap to the face to those peeps who built the fucking thing. There is this one guy on there with a horrible tan and totally fried hair and he's always like “People made Stone Henge? I think not!” and then he goes on about how it's impossible to build a sto... Oh come on people! Are you that fucking retarded!?

My new book is coming along great! I should be done with it in a week or two. I'm going to make it available for free for the first month to build press for it and then switch it to ninety nine cents thereafter. I can't wait to make the cover. I was hoping to incorporate this picture in it somehow.

Oh look at me! My my my we gay guys be silly bitches. But I digress and raise you a five. Wait. We're not playing poker? Good because I ain't gonna do no stripp'n without a ring on this finger boy. Um... If you could see me in person I am holding my middle finger up. Not to you middle America. But to the Nazis! Filthy Jew killing Oven lovers. Did you know that more Jewish men and women die when a Jewish man jacks off than died in the Holocaust? I think some Jewish men are hot. I loves me some Hebrew National. Oh hells yes! It's weird how everyone on American sitcoms happen to be Jewish. If it's one big conspiracy then I say give me some more Channing Tatum! Yes I know he's not Jewish but... Just look at him! He's Channing fucking Tatum!!!

If you find me sticking out my ass in traffic then it is good for you to know that I'm trying to get my ass pheromones out and into the nose of Channing Tatum. So that he may wrestle me with his big man arms and tell me that he's going to fuck. Me. Up. And then proceeds to beat me mercifully. Dear God why is he hitting me so hard!? Holy fuck felching Christ this shit hurts! Why Channing Tatum? Why would you do this to somebody that only wanted your man bits in his poop maker. If it weren't for noble men like me there would be no cancer.

I mean. If I looked like Ryan Gosling I could cure cancer. It's a scientific fact that those puppy dog eyes and six pack make me precum. I'm only saying this because I want the world to know that I think Ryan Gosling should do things to me. Like hit beat me up. Again? No Ryan Gosling! Don't use your massive male meat to spread your warm man chowder all over my shirt! Ah God no! I just washed this shirt too... Oh fuck it's bleaching through it!

Fuck you Ryan Gosling! No jerking off on my chest unless I'm not wearing a shirt that I particularly care for. Awe... Those whore fucking puppy dog eyes make me forgive you.

Now. May I ask you to do it again. And put some stank on it!!!

If you were my friend, you'd beat me up again!

Just kidding. Stay in school kids!