Showing posts with label Gay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay. Show all posts

Friday, May 16, 2014

Why Penises are Awesome!

It's awesome having a penis. Am I right fellas? Penises are just great. I like many varieties of penises. Small, medium, and large. Although larger ones are harder to get in your poop hole... People always want a big penis but I say that I think all penises are awesome.

Have a micro penis? Awesome! Hung like Mr Ed? Erm... Good for you!

Sorry I haven't posted in so long. Both uninspired and bored. Things have gotten better. I've been seeing more penises lately. It's been a good few months.

My new band just made a new album. We are The Vanilla Milkshakes and our new album is called “How to Ruin Friendships and Influence Douche Bags.” You can hear it here:

http://thevanillamilkshakes.bandcamp.com and then buy it on iTunes! It's that awesome! Or buy it from Bandcamp. Either way it's cool.

My favorite song on the album is “Dance! Robot! Dance!” but everyone else likes “Kreep” and “At Odds With God.” Also “Brand New Sound” is also a goodie!

Other than that, I've been thinking about penises lately. Many of them. All side by side and shaking each others hand. I'd go to a nude beach but there'd just be a bunch of unattractive people there. Why don't nudists work out?


Oh yeah. I've started to work out. Going to be all sexy and skinny for the sex and skinny that will come about this summer. Fifty push ups and sit ups a day to start off. Plus some jogging. I feel tight everywhere. I just want to look good naked. Maybe go to a nude beach and show them old folks how it's done.

Friday, November 1, 2013

October 31st 2013

October 31st 2013
By: David McGhee


12am: Still up from the day before. I was reading Nightmares and Dreamscapes by Stephen King. Notable short stories include Dolan's Cadillac, Home Delivery, and Suffer the Little Children.
The first story is about this dude who killed this dudes wife. So the dude becomes a construction worker so he can make detours and use the equipment to dig a hole in the road. Then the other dude who killed the other dude's wife goes in it and gets stuck. Then the good dude (good?) buries him alive. Then it sort of ends there. Something about years going by and him having pancakes with Jimmy Hoffa.
Suffer the Little Children was about this teacher who thinks her students are fucking with her. So instead of realizing she is a crazy bitch, she shoots the little people. Then of course the school and government officials get a bug up their ass and send her to the looney bin. Where she eventually kills herself. Something about a doctor noticing the kids with downs syndrome looking at him funny, and the end.
Home Delivery is about this dude going away to sea and drowning or some shit. And the girl in the narrator position talks ad nauseam about how he had a big dick or some shit like that. And then the man comes back to her as a zombie and she hacks him up.
I really want to read the Shawshank Redemption.

1am-3pm: I dream about cookies and panties and big ole' model boys.

3pm-4... Okay, enough of that shit

We spent the day doing jack shit and got no trick or treaters. What I wouldn't give to gets me some tall dark and legal! What? Yeah, I just switched subjects.
He works at this local chicken shack and apparently he's married. But that's only to a woman. I bet if I was given one night with him, I could make him into a sinner. He looks like a church boy. It would be cool if he was a major man whore though. Then he'd be fulfilling his evolutionary duty as an alpha male to inseminate as many females as he could during his fertile period, which would be puberty to seventy seven. What a fucking man whore! Or at least I wish. Imagine his man stuff acting as the mayonnaise on my chicken samich? Eeewww! Tall, Dark, and Legal he may be, but I always spit. Why in the hell did I even conjure that up!?

I'm turning my boyfriend onto this show on Netflix called “Supernatural.” I know it was on the CW before and... Um... Sam and Dean are awesome!!!
And shirtless. :-D
This is why no one will ever love me. :-(

Sam doesn't fuck as much as Dean does. But Dean is tall and manly just like Sam. But he uses his position in life to be a man whore. Like this one episode this little kid saw his father get killed. So Dean, being the man whore he is, helps the kid out and kills the monster and shows the kid that life is awesome. All just to get his dick wet in the mother. Oh you better believe she put out after shit like that! Hot damn! I want Dean spooge now...
From his pecker.

I had like five Butterfingers yesterday. I need to eat another one so it can be six. Even numbers are important to your health and safety. Why I even make sure that if I wake up on my right foot then I always go to sleep on my left. It's just common sense! Things like not stepping on cracks. It's not for your mother's benefit and it never was! It's all really a conspiracy from the sidewalk companies so that their sidewalks won't buckle and shit. But in reality you don't want to step on them because of the fucking panic attack that would ensue.
Your body gets sweaty.
Your mouth tastes like copper.
Suddenly all the other males want to kill you.
Why aren't I taller?
Ooh! Carrot cake! :-D
Mmm... Carrot crotch.

That was my bad, I thought I saw a rabbit. I saw a good amount of them when I went to the Miniature golfing place with Frank and Drew that one time. Fuckers went a second time without me. But I showed them!
No.
No I didn't.
Oh well. I suppose I don't deserve love after all.
Yes I am high. But on pot. It's legal here in Colorady. As is wearing socks. I like wearing socks. I wonder what Tall, Dark, and Legal's feet look like? I'd be very upset if they weren't well taken care of. For if you are an alpha male, you must have good feet to chase after prey and smaller males. To kill and eat and beat your chest like an animal! FUCKING MAN WHORE!


Back to the book though. I'm reading this story in it now about this little black lady eats this handsome writer's spooge and then her son (whom she's quick with apparently...) grows up to be a successful author. I for one know that talent and good looks do not come from eating another man's spooge. Last time I try anything fun...

But let's get serious here for a second. I'm a really awful person. I wish everything about me would change. I have severe Body Dysmorphic Disorder and I know how to use it! Seriously, every other person on this big old rock and water ball are better people than me (as pictured above). I have this recurring dream where a good looking guy is showing off in front of his blond how he can be a dick to me. Then he stabs me repeatedly and kicks me until I stop breathing. All the while the girl is telling him how sexy he is. Then everything goes white. Then to black. And then for who know's how long until the dream ends, I feel not sadness. I wish I could get that just died feeling in pill form.

Monday, October 28, 2013

I Do Not Think you are Ready for This Jelly

I Do Not Think you are Ready for This Jelly
By: David McGhee


Hey all you wonderful people out there! I can't believe I'm tracking an average of 150 viewers a day. Thank you guys so much for that! :-)
As you may have noticed I haven't posted in a few days. The interviews are lagging and my creative mind has been ruptured previously due to a nasty stomach infection. Again. Stupid Chaboni Yogurt. Giving me H. Pylori and shirt. Yeah! I call for a two week boycott of their yogurt! Effective retroactively two weeks ago! Yeah bitches. I just totally did that. Oh yeah.
I'm really medicated right now so I'll get down to the point. Boo. It's Halloween and shit and my roommates hate horror movies. So I suppose the closest thing I'll get to see of the horror variety this year will most likely either be “John Dies in the End” or “The Avengers.”
You know what? Wait a second; let me backtrack here. I just saw Thor last night. You know? The one where the guy is tall and he beats people up because he's tall and he abuses people with a hammer made from the something of the Gods or some shit? His shirtless scenes were to my satisfaction but the lack of penetration in this movie left a bitter taste in the back of my mouth. Because that's where you taste sour right? Fuck if I know. I just know that all the taste buds are on all the upper surface of the tongue. If you knew that, give yourself a gold star. If you don't have one then drive to the store! You fucking rich kid man whore. I MADE YOU! I MADE YOU! I MADE YOU! Not with butt sex, but with my appalling butt face.
Man I wish I had the nerve to post my butt on the internet. Despite what many may say, I have sort of a problem with my body image. Others may see me as the small pudgy guy or thin or whatever the fuck they say while I believe that I am a walking vaginal cavity. The kind with all those weird lips and shit! Eeeewwww....
I hope this man rots alive in his Denver apartment!

Man, if I was straight and confident in myself and my height then I would be Prince Harry. I bet that dude gets his ginger pubes all over a bitch's mouth. She be getting it stuck in her teeth from blowing the fire crotched prince of England. Fuck if I just had ten minutes with him... I'd totally show him my music and this blog and I'd like to tell him that he is a very handsome man. Then I'll congratulate him on being tall and red headed. Chicks dig it. That and I bet his feet are fantastic! But I'm not sure I would ask him that out loud. I've been told that by doing that I am weirding the other guy when I bring up the subject of feet. I wonder if his toes have little red hairs on them? Would that be appropriate to ask?
My mind just sort of works this way. I'm really smart but my Aspergers gives me a lack of social understanding. I don't mean to creep someone out or irritate them. There is this one guy one my Facebook and Twitter who hates me no matter how nice I am to him. I don't understand why I'm so annoying?
I know one reason has to be my high weird voice. Don't believe me? Just sift through my catalog of recordings over at http://goodbyetimebomb.bandcamp.com
I swear I'm not grabbing for attention. I used to do that but now I'm pretty oblivious to what goes on around me. As I said, I can possibly do really advanced math if I tried but I swear I will never remember to look both ways across a fourway while the walk light is red. I'm so silly! Ha ha. Splat!
Also I recently watched The Avengers. Holy shit was it good! I don't remember dick about the story but you got to see Captain America (Chris Evans) shirtless in all of his sexy sexiness! I wish I looked like Chris Evans. I bet he knows he's hot and he's a total man whore. His brother is gay did you know that? So he may not get mad at me if when I meet him, I ask for a spoonful of his hearty man chowder. He seems like a scary big dude. Tall and / or big men really scare me.
Asshole! But soooo manly...

I suppose this fear / attraction thing started in high school. I was thirteen and I witnessed all of my friends and classmates grow taller than me. Plus I started to notice how they were thinner than me. Some even had abs. I remember one time I had this kid over from my class and he slept with his shirt off. I must of stared with my jealous eyes for over a minute because he noticed me looking at him and asked me if I was a fag.
Sure... Why not. I didn't even hit puberty until I was like sixteen. Partly because of the heavy duty anti-psychotics or flat out fucking tranquilizers and the other half was just shitty genetics on my part. My brother is probably an inch taller than me but I didn't reach my full adult height of five seven until I was twenty six.
So while I was a man stuck in a child's body, all the other guys I knew were turning into men. Really attractive young men. I wouldn't have even entertained the notion that I could be gay at that time. I didn't come out until I was like twenty two. It was Ian Cooke that put the idea in my head. He was so awesomely nice to me. He was tall but he was so nice. While I still had a lot of tension on my end, he was infinitely patient with me. I wish I could have come out to him directly. When I found out who I was (still am) it seemed like it was too late. I've never been romantic with anyone in my life before that. I mean to a guy. But even when I was with girls I still didn't feel that horrible moment defining click. That one where it just pops in your head and you ask your self “Is anyone really ready for my jelly?” It was horrible. I have had zero romantic experience before this and seeing him with another guy right after I told him that I think I was straight (or some bullshit like that...) he found another guy to enjoy his genitals with. I was scared of enjoying the sight of someone's penis. In print, internet, or in person. It horrified me. My dad said when I was like twelve that if I grew up to be a fruit then he'd kick the shit out of me. Loving guy.
I shouldn't rage on my Dad though. He was just crazy and he only reached out for help later in life instead of right away. I suppose he projected his fears onto me because I was openingly expressing my emotions and he was a horrible person socially. I think when I started acting out he saw himself or some shit. I don't know. I flunked psychology. But I suppose, to be fair, I was doing a lot of coke at the time.
Let's rock!

Anyways, Chris Evans scares me. I'm sure he'd hate me just as much as Prince Harry would. Me and my questions about their attractive feet... I don't know. I like manly body parts. Big hands, ect. Stuff like that. Although I know the whole foot / penis ratio thing is total bullshit. I wear size eleven shoe but alas, I am but an average down there man. Yet I know a guy who's six foot two, wears size nine shoe (Brandon Pirkle) and what I assume to be very large genitalia danglings. You can't trust that that shit.
The only way that is remotely reliable to predict a guy's size is to look at his fingers and toes. Long thin fingers and toes can signify large junk on a dude. I like to fantasize about it. Is that wrong?
Anyways, this is because the gene that controls finger and toe growth on involves itself with a male's penis length and possibly girth.
I wish I had me some long toes and fingers. I know my dad was big. What the fuck God!? You truly suck large donkey balls. But I don't really hate you. How can someone hate an imaginary being? Well... I suppose you can hate Superman or something? Shit happens and school buses full of children need saving. And for that we call him a hero? He's a fucking pedophile!
I hate Superman. At least in part because I wish I looked like him. Did you know that the guy who played Superman in that movie had such a big package that they spent a shit load of money digitally making his bulge smaller. What a life, am I right? Big dick and you get paid to repeat words on a paper with the appropriate emotion. Acting. I got it.
I like Joseph Gordon Levitt. I believe he will father many illegitimate children. I suppose this also needs explaining too. Not the whole Joseph Gordon Levitt is hot thing. That's a duh, but the association I have with taller handsomer men is that my mindset sees taller men as having a higher chance at reproducing because of their superior physical and mental traits. A person of higher bodily goodness has a better chance of a quality life on the evolutionary set of things. Bigger males are more attractive to women. And men's sweat is an aphrodisiac that women (and gay men) respond to very favorably. When a man's all working out and he's sweating and the chick walks into the room she goes “Holy shit! He be hot!” And then they proceed to make three aborted little girls.
It is of my belief that jerking off kills six million potential children every time you cum. They just slop onto a tissue or into a sock and they they dry out and die. That and they need the warm inner environment of something like a vagina to continue living for just a little while longer. The bullshit thing is that if a guy doesn't jack off then eventually he'll have the occasional wet dream and wipe out yet another generation of boys and girls. They never even had the chance!
I saw on The Colbert Report that this Democratic senator made a faux bill banning male masturbation in Oklahoma in an attempt to make fun of their anti abortion laws. This whole “life starts at conception” is total bull. Sure it may have a beating heart but it doesn't really have a nervous system, no brain, therefore it feels no pain and is not conscious. You may spend the rest of your life wondering what kind of man whore your son could have been (I say that all tall parents should abort their children at this stage) because aborting it would not physically harm the child in anyway that IT CAN FEEL! No nervous system, no concept of life. That is what I believe.
If you have waited more than a few months then I say put them up for adoption. Fucking religion and stupid men and woman saying they don't like condoms. You know what else is a horrible parasitic monster in almost every way that makes a parasite a parasite by definition which are human children.
Not saying I hate children. But if you can't support them or you are a tall man who is confident that his son will be tall, you should abort them six weeks to three months or sooner. Fucking tall people.
Tall people have no feelings.
Yeah, that sucked. Seeing everyone become adults. I still don't fully feel like I'm a grown up yet. I don't really care about sex at all. And my attractions are crushes at best. I just don't feel like I fit.
It is always cool when I meet someone else with Aspergers. I really believe that Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory and that little goblin on In The Middle have the same shit I do. I actually used to be so like Sheldon. But opposed to their not pursuing help, I however have gotten therapy. The best thing for me is to hear facts instead of trying to work out my emotions. I wish I could feel more but to me, if it isn't logical, then why would I do it?
Why I ask you. Why?

I know this is abstract and cold. I do like people, I do. But it's hard to feel any real attachment or empathy with someone. I'm really happy that I've achieved a satisfactory level of affection with Frank. But other people weird me out. Einstein had Aspergers.
I like reading non fiction books a lot. Especially biographies. I am thankful that I got the right diagnosis at the Pueblo Colorado State Mental Facility. I forgotten everyone's name there except for Dr. Stuyt. She was so awesome. Since I wasn't making way with my addictions on an emotional level, she scared me off the drugs with some factual education. She told me to look at my addiction like an evolutionary problem. Or a math problem. Something like that. And the evolutionary system works for me. It will mean that I will forever give the tall men their due.

Fucking man whores...

Monday, October 14, 2013

Interview with Bo Burbank (Bodies We've Buried)

Interview with Bo Burbank (Bodies We've Buried)
By: David McGhee


Bodies We've Buried are a heavy metal band from Colorado USA. I found them through the recommendation of a one Maris The Great.

Plus here's a picture of this sexy, sexy man!

Truly a face only millions can love. Anyhoos, I listened to them on Reverb and immediately thought about how heavy metal has become very throaty recently. I sure hope their singer doesn't get chronic laryngitis. Because that would suck. Seriously, he sounds like he is about to cough out his lungs. But I suppose that is the sound that the kids are into.
And today we sat down with Bo Burbank of said band and asked him twenty questions about life, love, and the pursuit of man whoring.


David: What do you do in the band? I'm pretty sure I heard you were a drummer?
Bo: I am primarily the drummer, yes, but occasionally I do some vocals too! I like to think i'm also the 'Looks' of the band as well.
David: Do drummers keep good rhythm in bed? Like with a chick and shit?
Bo: I would say so, unless of course you are into crazy time changes and patterns. in that case, I feel really sorry for the girl.
David: You fucking man whore... What breed of kitten would you consider to be the cuddliest?
Bo: I hate cats. there's been like maybe 3 cats/kittens in this world i've met that I consider ok in my book. other then that... Dogs are the way to go.
David: If you were a dog, what breed would you be?
Bo: Black Lab! I have a black lab so i'm probably biased but seriously, Labs are the greatest.
David: How tall are you? How fat are you? And what shoe size do you wear?
Bo: I think like 6'2" and 197 lbs. sooo pretty tall AND fat! I wear a size 13 shoe.
David: SHOW US YOUR FUCKING FEET BO!!!

David: Did you know that if your last name was Burnham, then you'd be Bo Burnham? You know, that funny tall kid that apparently cums in everyone.
Bo: Yeah.. It sucks when you are out there trying to make a name for yourself and then come to find out that if your name had been different by 4 or 5 letters, then you would have gotten your big break! Whatever that means though... I don't think he is very funny.
David: How long have you been playing the Drums?
Bo: Since I was 9... I'm 28 next month so you do the math!
David: Would you ever consider collecting rocks?
Bo: I used to when I was really young. But now, probably not. I don't want to become Hank from Breaking Bad.
David: Are you seeing anyone serious right now? If not, are you taking applications for a girlfriend?
Bo: Nope, no one right now! And if there are applications out there to be my GF, then send them on in. Haha, remember those GF/BF applications on Myspace?! Im so 
David: What is your relationship with Maris The Great?
Bo: Maris and I have been off and on for a while now. We were officially in a Facebook relationship for a while, so you know how serious that is! Right now we're broken up because he thinks I got jealous that he was going after some other guy at our last show.
David: The guitars are cool in your band. Any chance at ever doing a hair metal song?
Bo: Well, we play some metal and our guitarists have hair, so technically it IS hair metal! But no probably not, we are really terrible at doing covers.
David: Give a shout out to your favorite fish here!
Bo: I just wanna give a shout out to the mighty Alaskan Salmon.
David: If you were gay, would you be a bottom or top?
Bo: I assume, for gay guys, that both probably have their own benefits. I'm going to go with top.
David: What are some other cool local bands that you are into?
Bo: That's a hard question! Lately I've been most into Lucida Tela, The Dawn Chose Orion, Dead For Denver, and Conquer Everest
David: What kind of man are you? Mac or PC?
Bo: Mac all the way. I went to school for graphic design sooo,, it comes with the territory.
David: Check this video out and tell me you didn't see God just then!
Bo: I love this movie! Don hertzfelt is an amazing animator. I remember seeing this like 10 years ago! oh and, "i didn't see god just then"
David: Do you believe in that bullshit that there's always room for Jell-O?
Bo: ALWAYS.
David: What are your favorite kinds of movies?
Bo: I love horror and comedy. If it's a comedic horror movie, then even better.
David: If you could murder anyone and get away with it, what kind of car would you drive?

Bo: Charger. If we're killing someone, might as well have a super awesome car to go with it.

Friday, October 11, 2013

My Very First Homosexual Experience (At the Age of 7)

My Very First Homosexual Experience (At the Age of 7)
By: David McGhee


From what I remember, and this can be pretty foggy, but I remember having my first ever homosexual experience when I was like seven or so. Don't worry, this isn't going to be a tale of child erotica (Sorry all you cho-mos out there, better luck next time) but involves me feeling that strange butterfly thingy you get in your stomach when you are around someone who is just absolutely stunning. It's sort of like experiencing Stendhal Syndrome. That is if any of you have ever seen something so beautiful that you're just frozen with awe. It's a pretty powerful feeling to have had. I suggest you look up “Channing Tatum” and “Naked” in a Google images search. If only Jake Gyllenhaal or Edward Norton would ever do the world a favor and do some nude modeling. Mmm... Joseph Gordon Levitt's penis...
Wait? What? Oh yeah, adult erotica, but no kiddie. Okay I'm good to go now. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, that feeling so huge that you almost throw up from being around someone so completely your type.
The day had started like any other, only it was the first day of first grade. I had walked the length of road from our trailer up to the side of the outside lying road. It was definitely a good walk; At this point I was a skinny little critter, so the walk wasn't that bad to and fro. I waited for the bus with great anxiety. No one had the slightest idea that I was autistic. How could you tell? Other than I showed no empathy, was always quiet, obsessed over facts, and for about the first eight years of my life, I would twirl around on my side on the carpet. I was obsessed with spinning myself. But anyways, so yeah. People always gave me the willies.
The bus arrived about five minutes after I had and I got on expecting everyone's eyes to be on me. And to my disappointment, they were. Oh well... I sat in the first seat adjacent to the bus driver. I think it was a female one. I'm pretty sure. Too bad I don't remember anything about her. It was my second year at Chattahoochee Elementary School and from my previous experience, I loved it. But the first day of school sucks whether it's the first day of kindergarten or the first day of graduate school. It doesn't matter.
Too bad I blew my chances on crack. Boo! Boo crack!
Anyways, I had gotten to school and had to be escorted to my room because I had still not learned how to read, write, or arithmetic. The signs on the doors were alien to me. I remember that I will have gotten into a reading program during my tenor as a second grade student, which totally transformed me on an intellectual level. Once I could read I read anything I could. I had a college reading level in first grade. Beat THAT Einstein!
What?
Oh... He did, did he? Pfft. The Theory of Relativity my ass! I'd like to see him develop a theory of my bunghole! Am I right girlfriends?
Of course I am. When I got to the right class room I was immediately taken aback at how much bigger the other kids were compared to me. I've always been small. And once I started that horrible anti-psychotic Risperdal I ballooned up to nearly three hundred pounds. I didn't even hit puberty until I was like sixteen! Although considered all the medications I was on I supposed that could have hendered my growth a bit? But then again my father was five six until he was twenty one, then he grew to five eleven. My final height was at twenty six at five foot seven. I can't complain because at least my younger brother is the same height. No taller brother syndrome for David.
Although my older half brother Jimmy is like six foot one. I suppose... I don't know. I'm not a geneticist! Stupid people and their people stuff... Dick. Insert dick. What? Hello!
I found myself looking at the boys and not paying attention to anything female. Sure I liked the teacher because she was a short portly woman who acted nice and did nice things to me. I remember this one girl named Stacy. Man she was a bitch when we first knew each other. She was a rich girl and such so we didn't get along. Although I was friends with the other students and they all lived in mini mansions lined along the road outside my little lonely trailer in the woods? I don't know. I suppose it was because young girls were a little bit frightening to me. They just seemed foreign and shit. I can't explain it. Maybe it was like when a straight guy first interacted with... Wait. I suppose I wasn't that unusual after all?
But there was one kid in particular. I think his name was Josh? But I know I'm not correct. Anyhoo, his name was Josh and he was a lot taller and skinnier than I was. He had the coolest smile and his eyes were a very pretty light shade of blue. His blonde hair was short and spiked a he was really nice to me for a few seconds.
After a week I couldn't take it just staring at him all the time, I had to become his friend. So I walked up to him during computer lab and asked for his phone number. He willingly gave it to me and the next day we were hanging with each other. I was dropped off at his place and he had a wonderful place at that. I was too young to understand anything about money and wealth, but I remember being in complete awe at the sheer amazingness of their modern electronics (Well, modern 1991).
The first thing I noticed about his room was his Sega Genesis laying on top of his dresser next to his extravagantly large color TV. I remember he laughed at my complete and utter knowledge for video games outside of Nintendo but he was cool about it too. He let me play Sonic the Hedgehog and... Actually this is the part of the story where things go bad, in typical David fashion.
I wound up nearly beating the game in one sitting. I died only like twice during my run as well. He was taken aback by my ability to navigate the game. I remember he made his brother and mother come into the room to see me go. But after so much he wanted it back. I gave it to him of course. But he was never the same towards me again.
I don't think I said or did anything weirder than normal? But if I had to peg it and show it as proof that people are born gay, I'd say this was the first time I really got excited over another boy. He made me feel like I wanted to live with him and be his shadow. He was just so cool in my eyes and it physically hurt to be around him. Perhaps my parents (and his) were aware of this and that's why we weren't allowed to see each other again...
I am always at a loss as to what I've done to make someone leave me. I do this all the time. I can't believe I have found such a great partner in Frank and friends in Erin, Drew, and Torvald. So it's all cool now. But I never really had any friends until I moved to Colorado.
I remember the second time a boy made me shiver... His name was Nate and this was in high school too. I went to Duluth Middle School in Duluth Georgia up until I was eighteen. Ha ha... I never even drunk liquor until I was like twenty, so I wasn't one of the cool kids. I had bad social anxiety and I was crammed into the special ed department. I remember there being a mean (at the time I thought she was mean, I really wish I could thank her now for my love of science, but I'm sure she's dead now.) teacher named Mrs Gray (or Grey?). The name with the bill because she had a short cut head of curly gray hair. She even had those librarian glasses too. She was the whole school teacher package.
Anyways, there was also this obscenely attractive girl in the same class as Zack and me and I always remembered them talking about driving in his car and making out. I always thought of Zack being all big and tall and skinny and attractive and going to town on the girl. I don't know why but I pictured myself as Zack when masturbating. I still do that, pretend to be someone else. You know... Because I'm short fat and ugly as sin. At least that's what my Body Dysmorphic stuff is telling me anyways.
Stupid ugly person me!
You fat bastard!

I wrote this song a while ago. It's pretty catchy and I wish I had a recording of it. I suppose when I get my student loans I could record it. So then it shall be.


Green and Sober
By: David McGhee


Things have been so much better since I've been sober
I'm so fucking happy, I could cry a lot


Maybe this is life and maybe this is my lot


Things have been so much better since I've been sober
I'm so freaking ecstatic, I just shit myself


Maybe this is my life and this here is my lot
Maybe these things are all I've got
Maybe I could die of embarrassment


I don't wanna be myself
I wanna be someone else
And fall away
Oh I'll just fall away
Into the sea where no one needs me


Things have been so much better since I've been sober
I'd give a fuck but I cry too much


Maybe this is my life and maybe this is my lot


Things have been so much better since I've been sober
I'm so fucking happy I could kill myself


Maybe this is my life and this here is my lot
Maybe these things are all I've got
Maybe I could die of embarrassment


I don't wanna be myself
I wanna be someone else
And fall away
Oh I'll just fall away
Into the sea where no one needs me


Why do we always ruin our lives?
When we're happy?
I wanna feel just the same
Why do we always do it to ourselves?
To be happy?
It just doesn't feel the same
I know that what I have is all that I'll ever get
I know that what I have is all that I'll ever get
And I know that what I have is all that I'll ever get
And I know that my hatred for myself rests in the same bed


Things have been so much better
Things have been so much better
Things have been so much better
Things have been so much better


I don't wanna be myself
I wanna be someone else
And fall away
Oh I'll just fall away
Into the sea where no one needs me


It's an older song really. I can't wait to record it. Ever see the Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles? Yeah. So have I. Well... That's about everything I can think of for now. Until next time you sexy, sexy men and woman you!
Smiley face.

El, oh, el.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Slim Pickens Does the Right Thing and Rides the Bomb to Hell release and the first chapter of my new book Tall

Boy am I ever excited! My book about a guy with Asperger's who discovered a town full of alien Republicans is finally done and available for a limited time as a free ebook!


And here's the cover for said ebook as well as the backside!


And here is an excerpt from my new novel coming in a few months!
It's called Tall. It's about a snotty good looking rich kid who's life just shits on him.

Tall
By: David McGhee


Chapter 1


“I have AIDS.” Damian said as he puffed on his cigarette. He blew two smoke circles that grew in the air and dissipated into nothingness.
Rusty shot up where he lay on his mattress with not box spring; it lay on the hard wood floor, making the jolt hurt Rusty's boney butt. “What?”
“I have AIDS.” Damian said with a smile. He took another drag on his cigarette and blew it in Rusty's face. “So we're gonna fuck forever right?” He gave Rusty a quick kiss on the forehead, Rusty pushed him away violently. Damian fell back into the bed and put his hands around his head.
Rusty felt all the blood drain from his face. “You killed me.” He said in disbelief. “You fucking killed me...” He felt around his bottom. Damian's stuff was still leaking out of him. Why, oh why, didn't he use a condom? He never had to use them with chicks before. Usually he'd just cum in their twat and Dad would pay for the abortion.
“I didn't kill you.” Damian said condescendingly as he took another drag. “It's plenty manageable with medications, diet, and exercise.” He ashed his Marlboro on Rusty's night stand. Burning a hole into the hard stained oak. “You could use some more muscle sweetie.”
Rusty couldn't speak. A terrible hairball of “what the fuck!?” was stuck in his throat. White hot rage blinded his field of vision. His mind was more barren than usual. Usually he thinks about hot chicks and fucking hot chicks and eating hot chicks out and fucking hot chicks. What was he going to do now? He couldn't have sex now. This guy took away his identity. How can you be a straight man when you got AIDS? Despite the myth, AIDS amongst heterosexual American males is really quite low, minding you that they're not using intravenous drugs, which raises your chances by a gazillion. But Rusty had never done anything stronger than pot. He didn't even drink alcohol for Christ's sake! He ate healthy and worked out an hour a day, cardio with some weight lifting. How could he, the model of virility and health, have the most feared disease on the planet?
That is aside from that virus that makes you shit and vomit yourself uncontrollably until you die from it.
“You ruined my life...” Rusty said, sitting naked in his bed. He felt around his newly widened asshole. Damian hooted. “I'm going to kill you.” He said with a straight face and all seriousness. “I'm going to kill you and it would be justified homicide.”
Damian shook his head and lit another cigarette. He smiled. “No such thing unless your life is in direct danger. Trust me honey, gay rights have come a long way and you'll be very well known amongst the gay community who killed poor old Damian Counter.” He squished his lips and made a kissing sound. Rusty stood up and immediately got light headed as his blood pressure went dangerously low. He saw white envelope his world and then he woke up on the bed. His back and head hurt because it was just a flimsy mattress.
“I pass out?” Rusty asked.
Damian took a smoke from his cigarette and groaned “Awe.” He put his free hand on Rusty's head and massaged it. “Poor baby.” Then he blew a puff of cigarette smoke into Rusty's face.
Rusty decided then and there to kill him. He turned around with great swiftness and plunged for the fucker. But Damian moved quickly and Rusty found himself hitting the wall. He felt his knuckles buckle and crack. He was in immense pain.
Damian sat back and was alarmed. “What on Earth are you doing?” He asked sardonically.
Rusty shrugged his broad shoulders to get the kinks out and popped his neck. Then he said “I told you. I'm going to kill you.” Rusty then straightened himself out and did a few jumping jacks.
“Think about it first.” Damian said as he shielded himself from the oncoming blow. Rusty stopped before he hit him. He felt a wave of nausea flow through his muscles and stomach as the memory of the Buster kid. He couldn't hurt this man. No matter how much he hurt him. He remembered the time spent in Juvy. It would be like that. Only with much bigger guys and he wouldn't be slapped on the wrist again. He was an adult now and that would be a class A one felony on his part. Damn legal system! Always keeping him down. He would just call the cops instead.
He sort of walked / ran to his phone that lay inside his pants pocket, which was thrown across the room in a fit of lust. Oh dear God why did he have to take that chance and have that experience with another dude. He was a vagina man and should have never strayed. He found his phone and in a moment of rage smashed it on his forehead. It didn't crack (thank God) but it did dial his mother. He disconnected the call and dialed “9-1-1”
“Whatcha doing sweet thing?” Damian asked nonchalantly as he blew another ring of smoke out.
“Calling the cops on your fagot ass!” Rusty shouted.
Damian said “Tisk tisk tisk.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what gift I just bestowed on you.”
“Fucker!” He shouted as the operator picked up.
“Excuse me sir?” The female operator, probably black or a white girl with heavy emphasis on the ebonic tongue. She said it in a very irate way. Indicating that she did not like the implications of being called a fucker.
“No, not you.” Rusty said in a hurry. “I need to report a crime.”
“What would be the nature of this crime sir?”
It was then that Damian shouted “No! No! Don't hit me!”
Rusty put his hand over the phone's receiver. “Will you stop that!”
“What's going on sir?” She asked, a little more alert this time.
“I've been...” Rusty was cut off with Damian's cries for help.
“Please send somebody!” Damian shrieked with terror. “He's got a knife! Oh God, he's got a knife!”
“Sir I'm sending somebody over to your address.” She said in a frightened but normal tone of voice, almost as if she forgot to act like a rapper. “Please sir. Put down the knife! It's not worth it!”
“I don't have a knife!” Rusty shouted as he did a face palm.
“Please! Oh God! Now he's got a picture frame!” Damian got up casually walked toward Rusty's dresser. First he straightened his golden terry cloth robe the he took one of the picture frames that sat atop the dresser and hucked it across the room. Where it shattered near his 60” HD flat screen. It was a picture of the first girl he ever nailed, back when he hit a growth spurt and stopped being a dork. He remembered when he went from five five to almost six, six over night. Suddenly girls wanted to be with him. It was the best thing ever and he pitied short people. Because in all reality people treat a tall man differently than a short man. A tall man commands more respect and is seen as the dominate figure in a room. Why a man of his stature and attractiveness could cum on the face of any young girl he wanted to. This girl in the picture though. She was the result of hormones driven to the brink of thermonuclear explosion and a pack of condoms he got from Walgreens. When he brought them home and tried to seduce her he found out, seven bucks later, that they were too small for him. The girl, apparently never had been with a man either at that point and didn't really know whether or not his size was normal, complimented him on what would be the tool she would from that day forward forever compare every other guy too. But he was still embarrassed of it in that way that all young men are before they've had the privilege of getting naked in front of another person with regularity. It was hard and when she touched it he nearly came. He calmed down a little and drove back to the store, a recent gift for turning sixteen had been a brand new car and a license to drive said car. He found out that, despite the condoms not fitting correctly, he could not get a refund. Apparently you cannot return a used condom. So he spanged for the extra four dollars from passerbys outside and within twenty minutes he had the condoms and the girl. The entirety of a minute's worth of humping, grunting, and elbows being rammed into stomachs, resulted in a quick dismissal of bodily fluids. When he took the condom off she wanted to see it. She had never seen male seed before. It was quite a load. She mentioned that that would have been hell to clean out if he had not worn it. Especially with it being planted eight inches inside her.
He thought of the girl he had lost it too and felt an awful sadness. How was he going to get laid again now? Sure he could wear a condom but what girl would want to take that chance? He knew he wouldn't if it was him. Oh God, what has this man done to him?
“Sir!” The operator broke his trance. “Please stop throwing things! Please settle down! We are here to help you!”
“What?” Rusty said, exasperated. “I'm not throwing things! This crazy bastard is the one throwing things!”
“Sir please!”
Damian pulled out a pocket knife and cut along the dermis of the back of his hand, purposely missing the veins. “He just cut me!”
“Stop that!” Rusty screamed. He had tears welling up in his eyes. Then they heard knocking at the door.
“Police! Let us in!” A bellowing voice said behind two inches of door.
“Please!” Damian cried. “This monster is attacking me!” Then he walked calmly over to Rusty's coffee table, picked up his hot punk glass vase, the one his third girlfriend gave him, and threw it just iches from Rusty's head. He artfully dodge it and it smacked into the white wall behind him, smashing into approximately one hundred and four pieces.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” Rusty shouted.
There was more knocking. Rusty ran to the door and unlocked it. He lived in a loft downtown that had six units. He could hear people talking next door. One lady, in a light green terry cloth robe with short dark brown hair and green eyes, peered out her door at the three men standing at Rusty's door way. In Denver it was customary to send two policemen on all calls. Regardless of the nature of reported act of criminal nature.
Nature... N.A.T.U.R.E.
Just rolls off the tongue don't it?
Rusty stood in front of the two men and it was then that he realized he was naked. The two cops stood there stunned at what they saw. One man seemed to have anger on his face. “Would you please put some pants on boy!” The Hispanic one said. The taller white cop had a pudgy face. Rusty disliked him immediately because fat people aren't to be trusted. Rusty nodded and went to the other side of the room and pulled on some boxers. The policemen followed him in and saw a small slender man of varied ethnicity sitting in bed, clothed in his golden terry cloth robe, looking terrified with an open gash on the top side of his palm.
“Please help me sir!” Damian pleaded. “He cut me!”
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa now!” Rusty stuttered. “He cut him himself! Check the prints on the knife!”
“This is a domestic disturbance and you sir are under arrest!” The Hispanic cop, no doubt feeding off of the authority the five foot five man got from wielding a badge. A Napoleon complex for sure. Rusty hated those kinds of guys. Why couldn't they just accept that they're short and no one will ever love them? He let the policeman take him by the wrists, he swung him around and cuffed his hands behind his back.
“Check the knife!” Rusty shouted, not believing the absurdity of it all, started laughing.
“You'll be laughing all the way to jail you fucking dingle-berry!” The taller white cop said. His name tag said “Rodriguez.” The Hispanic cop's last name was “Kerry.” Named from what ever odd mismatch of family history they had. Officer Kerry pulled Rusty from the room and walked him down the hall to the elevator. Rusty was in a daze where everything he saw had a white and green aura to it. He was sure he was going to faint again but did everything he could not to. He started breathing deep, oxygenating breaths and slowed his pace. Officer Kerry tugged at him harder and Rusty got up to speed. Kerry pressed the elevator button and they waited at the elevator entrance.
“He gave me AIDS.” Rusty said, not believing in the words that were coming out of his mouth.
Kerry took his hands off of Rusty, visibly disgusted, and rummaged his pocket for some latex gloves. He put them on. “No reason to knife the guy.” He said with fear in his voice. “You can probably get off with probation.”
“That's the thing.” Rusty said with a sigh. “He did it himself.”
“Have you touched the knife?”
“No.” Rusty said with relief. “He pulled it out of his pocket.”
“Well the crime lab will tell us more.” The bell rung and the elevator opened.
“Wait.” Rusty stopped. “Why am I going to jail?”
“If you're so innocent then you have nothing to worry about.” Kerry said stoically and without emotion.
“Hey wait! I'm innocent!” Rusty shouted.
“Are you resisting arrest son?” Kerry tightened his hold on Rusty's cuffed hands.
“But I didn't do anything!”
“I've seen your type. Always was the big kid in school and you picked on kids much smaller than you.” Kerry said with a snarl. “I eat rancid dingle-berries like you for breakfast, lunch, and if I'm doing a night shift, dinner.”
Rusty stared at Kerry for the longest time. “Why does everything with you involve poop hanging off of ass hair?”
Rusty stayed back but was shoved by the officer. “I didn't beat you up in high school! Stop projecting onto me!” The officer tugged at him some more and finally Rusty willingly went with him into the cold elevator. Rusty's bare size thirteen feet were frigid and chilling to the touch. He suddenly had a spark of inspiration, He said “I want a lawyer.”
The elevator closed with the sound of a grown redheaded man weeping.  

Saturday, August 31, 2013

My Alarm Cock

My Alarm Cock
By: David McGhee

I wake up at six in the morning
  Every morning.
    I wake up to my alarm cock.
It hits me in the face, begging me to play with it.
 But it's so fucking early!
   I awake to my alarm cock.
But to be truthful it's really Frank's alarm cock.
  I'm just a part time fellow myself.
    I hear they don't make them like this anymore.
      Frank is corn fed, hung like a horse, feet like a Roman emperor.
        His cock is one of alarm.
          For he owns the alarm cock.
Safe in bed and safe with his alarm cock.
  Although, technically it is mine,
    because I set the timer.
He lets me make tea. So I make chai.
  Chai gives you better blood flow to your alarm cock.
    That's if you're a dude.
      Dudes rule!
        Cocks rule!
And alarm cocks slap me in the face!
  Wake up!
I awake to my alarm cock.
  He rests it on my forehead, my alarm cock.
    Frank is inside my mouth, my alarm cock.
      It rests on my shoulder, my alarm cock
Frank puts it in my eye.
I love my alarm cock.
One day I will be a man of my own.
  And I will use my own alarm cock
    To wake me up.
      To have and to hold.

Give me my alarm cock! Goddammit, or I'll cut a bitch!!!

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

“Sexy McSex Sexifies the Sexy McSex With a Sexy Sex McSex Female Riding on Top of Me Having the Best Sexy Sex Ever! I Was like Booooooing!"

“Sexy McSex Sexifies the Sexy McSex With a Sexy Sex McSex Female Riding on Top of Me Having the Best Sexy Sex Ever! I Was like Booooooing!”
By: David McGhee

“She came to me the other night” Ryan said to his two friends sitting on either side on his next to the raging camp fire. All three of them had alcohol in their hands. Marty and Matt were drinking Coors Light while Ryan sipped from his Tennessee Honey Jack Daniel's whiskey. “I was all like, playing my Xbox and shit, and she knocks on my door. I'm dressed in my boxers, sporting a boner, and I answer the door. She was all like 'I was thinking of you and it got me wet.' It wasn't raining, but I'm used to girls messing their pants with their pussy juices thinking of me. She's all like “May I come in.' And to this I said 'Yes. Yes you may.'
“So she followed me into the living room where she took off her wet clothes (wet because she was like, totally wetting down there for me. I swear bro, her sex juice was staining her tight, tight blue jeans) and sits down on my couch next to me, like, totally naked. And she turns to me and says 'I love men who know how to rock an Xbox.' And I was like saweeeeeet! Did I mention that she's like, a model and junk. Tall with light, light bleached blonde hair and I'm sitting here all like, six foot six and two hundred and twenty pounds of man muscle. My dick is probably a fifth of my total weight. Plus I totally look like handsome and shit. I'm a sex God. And I get chicks like this all the time because my dick is like, twelve inches! No joke! I fucking impale them bitches!
“All right man!” Matt high fives Ryan and continues listening intently as he sipped from his beer. He imagined the chick like, all naked and shit. That totally turned him on. Which is why Ryan's story connected with him so much. He liked pussy too!
Damn it is awesome having a dick!
Ryan raises his bottle and the other two clanged their containers together, symbolizing male unity or some shit. He sips from his whiskey. “Like, my boner is going away at this point because I'm all like, shit girl, I've nailed finer bitches than you before breakfast this morning. But she was all like 'Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick.'
“To which I reply, 'All the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy.'
“And she's all like crying and shit because I'm holding out on her. Bitches can't get enough of the big D, bra. And I can like, make them make me dinner and wipe my ass when I use the rest room. One girl even saves my spit and errant hairs in a jar so that she can carry me around with her everywhere.
“But this chick just wouldn't stop, bra! She's all like tearing my boxers off, which sucks because I liked those boxers, but it's cool because I'm like, totally rich and it's a chick doing it, so. You know. If it was a dude I'd be all like, sorry bro, I'm not a fag. Then I'd kick his ass for being a fag. Fags are fags. ¿Uh huh huh ha ha ha ha huh uh?
“Then I said 'Ooga ooga! Me man. You woman. Me on top!'
“And then she like, started sucking me off dude, but she couldn't get it all in her mouth because my schlong is, like, twelve inches. It's totally huge, bra! Some chicks get scared when they see my massive man meat. They're all like 'My vagina is so small and you're so big! How ever will you fuck me? Oh stretch me! Stretch me, Ryan! Stretch my vaginal cavity to accommodate your Eiffel Tower sized one eyed bandit!' Sometimes when ever I'm in an argument with another dude or a ho, I'll whip it out and smack them with it. Hit them right side on their noggin. You know, instead of punching, I use my dick. It's so big that it's like a little extra arm that can be used to beat the shit out of fags with. Fags totally hate it when I beat them with my massive pulsating man cock.
Matty and Marty gave each other a quizzical glance. Then they laughed.
“But she was just sitting there, sucking on it. I put my hand on her head and I pushed it all the way down to the base of my cock. And she totally took it bra! She did a hand stand on my legs so her throat wouldn't be bending when she took it in; so she could take all of my penis!
“Then I turned her over and slammed it right into her stinker! She screamed with pain and lust. She screamed 'La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Da da da da da da da!' over and over again! It made me so hard bra. I went deep into her colon and gave her a one of my special Ryan cock enema. She'll be shitting so good for years to come man. That is unless I packed it in so tight that she now has to get pieces of her colon removed, but hey, bitch can't complain, she totally asked for it! Begged me even!
“So I'm pounding away at her incredibly fat ass, bitch has got to weigh like a hundred and ten pounds, fucking blimp, and it occurs to me that if I come in her ass then I'm a fag. And I'm not a fag. Are you guys fags?”
Marty and Matty shake their heads. Marty laughs “Na bra. I ain't no fag.”
Matt smiled. “Honest to God pussy lover.” He laughs.
Ryan, satisfied with his friend's sexual tendencies, continues. “So I take it out and wipe the shit and blood (from busting her pussy) off my pulsating twelve inch cock and then I bring it home in her cooch. I ram and ram and she's moaning from the best sex she'll ever had. Seriously bra, chicks tell their friends then they cheat on their man with me. I don't condone it but I'm not going to stop a chick from mouth hugging my cock. It's here for all bitches to enjoy.
“But if a fag wants to suck my cock maybe... Um... No way! I'd kick his lily ass! Fucking fags!
“So I asked her 'Hey' I say 'you want me to cum? Inside or on your face?'
“So she replies 'On my face! Make me into the dirty whore you think I am!'
“And I'm all like, I can't argue with that, so I pull out and jack it until a huge glob of my stuff comes shooting out, hitting her in the eyes and getting all in her hair and shit. She feels around for it and what sticks to her fingers goes in her mouth. She then kisses me and I'm all like 'huh. Semen isn't that bad.' But then I'm all like 'Bitch! Trying to make me into a fag!' and I hit the bitch with my dick, not at all unlike how I deal with fags who are tall and hung. Then she cries, wanting more of my cock. But I'm all like, spent. So I says 'get out of here bitch!' and she's all like 'But Daddy Ryan! I needs your legendary phallus!'
“And I'm all like 'get out of here you dirty cunt! And she puts on her now even wetter clothes (Because I like, came all over her clothes too. There was enough to go around bra!) and heads out the door crying like her Pug just got ran over by Dick Cheney. So I am left sitting naked on my recliner and I notice my cock. It's big and bulging and it makes me wonder what Cory's dick looks like. But then I remember that I'm not a fag.”
“Cory Leechman?” Marty asks, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah.” Ryan says with a wistful look in his eyes. “Yeah, he's a fag.
Marty thinks about how much ass Cory gets and is confused by the non-sequitur.
Ryan continues. “So I start playing Xbox again, and I hear a knocking at my door again. I'm all like 'fuck! It better be a chick at the door!' Because if it was a fag I'd fuck'em!
Matt and Marty both say “What?!” at the same time.
“I meant fuck them up! Not fuck them.” Ryan laughs “I'm not a fag.” He then returns to his story that he had started after being asked what time it was. “Anyway, sure enough, it is! A small bodied, bit big boobed, red head with streaks of eyeliner dripping from her eyes and onto her cheeks.
“'I've been masturbating to my memory of you like all day.' She says.
“And I'm all like, 'Cool.'
“And then she's all like 'You wanna fuck me in the ass and cum inside my colon?'
“Normally I'm not a fag, but that sounds just great. So I rub some water based lubricant on my junk (Pineapple flavored) while she's getting undressed. And right as her panties drop I'm inside her like a fag on a fag. It was awesome! She was like totally into it too. My twelve in cock rammed into her tight ass like a chainsaw through a cow. It was amazing! Then I came in her trunk and the junk slowly leaked out of her as she was putting back on her clothes. Cuz, you know I don't let bitches stay at my place. Bitches can stink a place up. Make it smell like sour fish.
“As she was leaving she stuck a finger up her ass and then tasted it. 'Tastes like Ryan's liquid children all right.' she said with a smile. Because, you know, my stuff is like sweet and sort of tastes like apples.”
Matt leans back instinctively. Ryan waves him off. “At least that's what chicks tell me and their friends. I could seriously market my jizz as a protein shake for bitches. Anyways, she left the house through the front door and I locked it behind her. You know, in case some burglars were to come in the house and rape me like a fag. They would tie my hands behind my back, strip me naked (If I wasn't already naked that is) and then tie my feet up. I wear like a size fourteen dude. That's one of my pick up lines. 'You know I got pretty big feet.' I would say. Then I'd add 'And a twelve in cock.' because, you know, bra, girls love big dicks. All that shit about size doesn't matter. Tell that to a girl who just got fucked by a twelve inch dick. She can't possibly say that's better than your tiny six inch thing that no one cares about.
“No offense.”
“None taken.” His two friends, Matt and Mark said as they sat around the camp fire, both enthralled and a little frightened by their friend's tale of love and big boobies.
“So I'm sitting here thinking about the anal raping I would get from these fags so I go work out in at the the twenty four hour fitness place down by Colorado Blvd. Working on my delts, you know. I like working out. It keeps me in shape. I like totally got an eight pack. Here...” Ryan lifted his shirt for his friends to see. And indeed, he had an impressive set of abs. “Touch it.” He said.
Matt looked at his friend with concern in his eyes, he took another sip of the Coors Light in his right hand and poked Ryan's abs with the other. It was hard to the touch and the skin on top felt like it was rolling on his muscles. Ryan smiled, bearing his massive set of white teeth. He then turned over to Marty. With a nod, he smiled. Was Marty supposed to touch him too?
Marty took a long, deep gulp from his beer and shook his head. “I'll take your word for it.”
“What?” Ryan said, offended. “Think it makes you a fag?”
Marty looked at Matt, who nodded nervously, insinuating that it was Marty's turn to touch Ryan. He did so. And cringed as his finger tips slid from one ab to the other. He pulled back immediately
Ryan slapped the two of them on their backs where they sat on either side of him. Ryan let out a horrible guffaw that sounded sorta like a donkey getting kicked in the balls.
“Anyways,” Ryan said as he took a drink from his Tennessee Honey Jack Daniels. “I'm working out and I get a boner. So I'm all like, I need a bitch man. So I call every girl in my little black book, and what do you know? Every one of them wants to fuck me. I'm telling you bra, chicks love the twelve inch cock.” Ryan pointed to his nether regions and took a long swig from the whiskey bottle. “But also my mind. Because I can do Einstein shit with my brain. But instead of instantly getting some head by the chick working out next to me, I decide that I gotta work on my gluts, you know. You gotta work out bra!”
Ryan lifted his shirt again to show them that yes, yes indeed, he showed signs of having worked out many times over the course of many months and / or years. Matty stared at it like it was something you'd see in a zoo. He was afraid that it would bite him if he got too close. Marty seemed to share his sentiments exactly. They both took a swig from their beers. Marty finished his and crushed the can with his meager size eleven Converse sneakers. He got up and went to the cooler by the car and got another beer. He sat back down, but this time he was sitting in front of Ryan instead of right by him. Matt looked at him nervously, as if he needed an excuse too. But he had none. So Ryan continued.
“So I go outside to smoke a fat blunt, right? And this fag comes up to me. And I'm all like 'What? You wanna fuck me or something?' Then he says I'm kinda cute and he'll think about it. So I whip out my dick and decide to make him pay for messing with a hetero. So I sodomize him with my twelve inch cock!”
“You what?” Matt said excitedly.
“You know. Back in the old days if you wanted to punish somebody you'd sodomize them. It's all in the bible, bra. Have you ever read the bible?”
“Yes.” Marty says, exasperated. “I have. And they condemn sodomy!”
“But, like the olden guys who wanted to teach somebody a lesson, they'd sodomize them. Right?”
Matt looked at Marty, who offered no help. Then he looked toward Mike, not looking him in the eyes. “In fact Leviticus says if you lie with a man like you lie with a woman, blood will be on your hands, and you will surely be put to death.” Matt took a deep breath. “Or something like that.” He took another long sip from his beer and finished it.
Ryan laughed. “Well I found a loop hole. Because you aren't technically supposed to lie with a chick in her ass, so I'm not lying with a woman the way I'd lie with a man.” He took a swig of his whiskey then wiped his lips with his CU sweater sleeve. “Right?”
“No dude.” Marty said. “I think you just fucked a guy.”
“No.” Ryan said defensively. “I sodomized him.”
“What's the difference.” Matt asked with his hands up in the air
Marty shook his head, irritated. “In fact I think the whole Bible is pretty much against sodomy. I mean, isn't that what those guys wanted to do with the angels in Sodom and Gomorrah. Sodomy is basically Sodom with a 'y' tagged onto it, if that tells you anything.” He spit on the ground to the right of his feet. “Besides, it's really, really gay to sodomize a dude.”
“Yeah.” Matt said, uncertain of what to say next. “I mean. That's like 'Lady Gaga supports your lifestyle' gay.”
“Sodomy means I'm not a fag.”
“Anally raping a man because he pissed you off is still homosexual.” Marty said.
“Whoa.” Ryan raised his hands and then lowered them, as if settling a cosmic force with some hand gestures. “I'm totally not a fag.”
Marty and Matt stared at him for the longest time.
“Seriously bra. Would a fag do this?” And he stood up and started to unzip his pants.
“Holy shit!” Matt said. Marty did a spit take with the cold Coors in his mouth. Marty then looked at Matt, who then looked at Marty, and then both of his friends sprung up from where they sat and started running towards their cars. Ryan stood there like a wooden squirrel with his jeans unzipped. Within seconds Ryan heard their respective engines come to life. And as fast as they had ran from Ryan's privates, they were gone just as fast. Within a minute they are already headed for the highway from the back road that led to the camping spot far, far from the Rocky Mountains. They left in such a hurry that they even left their camping shit there. Ryan, deterred and alone, pulled out his five inch penis from the fly on his boxers. He stroked it and was disappointed when it did not respond.

“I'm not a fag...” He said with a sigh.