Left Of Sean

I have a gay friend named Mike.  He’s not gay because his name is Mike.  He’s just gay and his name happens to be Mike.

I wrote a piece the other day (that I’m regretting now) asking for suggestions for blog topics.  Mike was the only one who responded.

In the entry, I referenced the fact that there were no hot college co-ed females, only males, sitting in the Barnes & Noble cafe.  So, Mike suggested that I write more about the college guys.

I’m straight.  That means I’m un-gay.  That also means that I have no idea how to write a gay college guy story for Mike.  But I’m going to try.  I think I’ll put some pictures in to detract from my lack of “gay” writing ability.

So here goes….

Once upon a time there were three hot college boys sitting in a cafe at Barnes & Noble.  The first boy was 23 years old and had a striking chiseled face and un-fat man boobs.  He went to the gym…..I guess.

Boy number two was 22, short, and had a huge package bulging out of his jeans.  On closer inspection, I’m pretty sure it was a sock…or a banana…or a flashlight.  But for the purposes of this story I’m going to go with huge, throbbing, meatsicle!

Boy number three was wearing a Member’s Only jacket.  We don’t care about him.

I stood up and cocked my hips to one side while I planted my hand firmly on the protruding hip and flittered over to their table.  I stood tall and erect and in my gayest of gay voice I said, “Hi, my name is…um….Harold.  Yeah, that’s it.  Harold.  I have a friend, Mike, who would like some pictures of you two.  Would you mind standing up and unzipping your pants while I get my camera ready?”

When I woke up, swollen and flat on the floor, I didn’t know where I was at first.  I realized that I was still in the Barnes & Noble cafe but I was in an excruciating amount of pain.  One eye was black.  I’m sure I had a broken rib.  And I was wheezing.  My balls were probably missing but I was too scared to reach down there to check.

Boys one and two were nowhere to be found but Member’s Only was standing above me with my camera in hand.

“I took twenty or so shots.  Give them to Mike.  I’m sure he’ll enjoy them.  My phone number is written in stall three.  Look me up sometime!”

And I passed out again.

Sorry Mike.  It’s the best I can do!!  Here are some pictures for you:

So, in all seriousness, Mike is one of the coolest and smartest guys you’ll ever meet and I’m totally jealous that he lives in San Francisco, my dream city.  He has a great sense of humor and I’m sure he’s cracking up at this right now….and then vowing revenge!

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Right now I’m out of ideas.  I’m sitting here looking at the computer screen and I’ve gone completely blank.  I’ve been digging through my notes in hopes of generating some sort of spark of creativity but nothing is coming.  I’m like the dead lawnmower I had to take to the shop last year.  Let’s hope this fix doesn’t cost $95…for a $50 lawnmower!

Image via Wikipedia

What I’m hoping is that in the next few days or weeks I’ll get a handle on the creativity and start writing again.  I keep a notebook full of junk and write down ideas and statements and doodles so that I can refer back to those things later for blog posts.  That notebook is going to come in handy right now because I’m going to list a few things I wrote down from TFLN (Texts From Last Night) to use later in stories or to just generate ideas.

• She thought the capital of Kansas was Topanga!
• It smells like wine and fried chicken in here.
• It’s official.  I’m a squirter.  Wasn’t a one time thing.
• I just recognized the girl sitting across from me from a lesbian porno.  Should I ask for an autograph?

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