Behind the Red Door

In the Deep South, everyone has a secret. A pool boy tirelessly cleans his well-heeled Daddy's pool. But his job is not yet done. For behind the red door, naughty things happen. Such sordid tales may be pure fiction... or are they?

A Sunday Inspirational

Cougars with No Gaydar

Have you ever worked in an office with all women? If you have, then you know they can be quite the chatty drama troop. You can forget trying to play the QUIET GAME... they flatout refuse to play!

Needless to say, I look forward to my lunch breaks. I can leave the office and recieve serenity for thirty whole minutes.Today, I chose to enjoy some peace and quiet at the local Wow - Cafe and Wingery. I was doing my usual... checking out ESPN sports highlights and fingering my preciousss iPhone.

I look up and see the cougar waitress staring down at me. GROAN. She has waited on me several times in the past. Unsweetened Ice Tea, right hon? There are no queeny hand gestures. No lisping. No high pitched squeals. I grunt out a manly one word response... "YES".

It can be quite a horrifying experience when a Cougar unknowingly pounces on a gay man. The signs: winks, fluttering of eyelashes, hand strokes through the hair, and long personal chats. You try not to panic and wonder where your gaggle of queers are when you need them!

Before I am given the chance to order, I am subjected to a ten minute speech about how difficult it is to find a good man. Instead of responding back... Oh, I know honey! They are just bassstardsss, I listen intently with a concerned look.

When I am finally allowed to order, I choose a large fried shrimp poboy. Instead of running to the kitchen with my order, the waitress notices that my iPhone is no longer cracked. I explain that I got a new one.

She then goes into excruciating detail about how she went to one of those cheap dollar stores four times last week looking for iPod accessories. We were talking about my iPhone and she is telling me about her iPod shopping extravaganza. Oh goodie! I get to learn with bated anticipation what she found shopping in each of those four trips! :/

Thankfully, my meal arrives quickly and I gobble it up. The waitress then announces that she is giving me a complimentary bread pudding. I thank her. She stands there and asks if I like it. I smile back and let her know that I do! She tells me how they make it. I am like... "Ohh... interesting!"

I pay my bill and leave. I am now pouting that I didn't get my 30 minutes of peace and quiet.

Animal Friend

It pains me when offspring are separated from their mothers on the farm. It is a traumatic experience for both the mother and their offspring. Hearing them call for each other will send chills down your spine.

While the other colts and fillies are enjoying more time with their mothers, this filly has no one. Her mother died unexpectedly when she was only three months old.

Going by markings, I am pretty sure these pictures show them together in happier times:




She lost her mother at such a young age. I often wonder if the filly is lonely. She is still extremely shy and skittish around me. The closest I have managed to get to her is to feed her hay by hand. Any other movement startles her and she takes off running.

I check on the filly daily. There is no reason an animal should be lonely. I look foreword to the day when she let's me brush her coat.

Murder in the Hen House

Your chickens are never safe from predators. There has been a hawk flying around the farm. It looks just like the one shown in this video I found on Youtube.

If you own chickens, you tend to count them every day just to make sure nothing funny is going on. I knew my count was not going to be right this morning when I found the grisly remains of Greta Van Horn. She was rudely murdered and picked apart clean.

Rocky let me pick up the remains of Greta by the feet and carry her out without attacking me. Greta was buried under the same oak tree where Myrtle, Abigail, and Betsy are now resting. May God rest her feathery soul.

God Save the Queen

UPDATE: Sorry for this rant. I have a friend that has really worked my last gay nerve. Do you know how it is when you see a buddy fucking up and you just want to shake them out of it? Yeah. Well, that's what I was feeling when I wrote this blog post. I have already returned back to sane.

Well, I hope you are happy. You have finally done it! You have brought shame down upon our house. I can't fathom the number of times I have rolled my eyes at you. You are giving me wrinkles! It has taken every fiber of my being to not jump up and slap the shit out of you.

Oh... don't turn this around on me Missy. I know I am crazy. This ain't the time nor place to talk about my shit. I am riding your ass on this... not the other way around.

Ahem. (clearing throat) Let me be crystal clear. If you don't get your house in order, there will be an intervention. And it won't be pretty! That is all.

Rooster Bud

I love my Cock. Really deep down, I am sure Rocky loves me too. Consider this video a dedication to our love. Under no circumstances should this video be analyzed as to why my relationships never work out. LOL.

My Problem with Tubby People

America has a FAT problem. According to a Business Week article, there are four states where the obesity rates are over 30%. The blue ribbons go to: Mississippi (32.5%), West Virginia (31.2%), Alabama (31.1%), and Tennessee (30.2%). They are taking over our nation and will soon be the majority! Noooo....

When I pass a Tubby person, they'll typically make a snarky comment like: Eww... you are soooo skinny... why don't you let me buy you a meal? Steam rises. My face becomes flushed in crimson red. It takes every fiber of my being to not blow my top.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!

My first action is to take off my shirt. I demand an immediate answer: Do I look skinny to you?! The Tubby predictably says, Yeah... that's pretty gross!

My eyes flash in anger. Do you not see these pecs? I do the Hulk flex pose. What about these guns? I imitate the blogger formerly known as thisboyelroy. No response.

I swiftly unbutton my jeans and let them fall down to my ankles. You see how rock hard these quads are? I rotate a leg 90 degrees... What about these hamstrings? Or calves? I turn around and flex my back muscles.

To my utter dismay, I hear the Tubby let out a long drawn out yawn. Arggh!!!

Fine. I've won my share of beauty pageants. I know what it takes! I remove my Andrew Christian underwear, and began ferociously slapping my ass cheeks hard. You see this? You can bounce quarters off these babies! I even bend over to demonstrate just how fuckable that ass is.

Exhausted, I turn around to face my tormentor. He is jerking off... and his tongue is out. Son of a bitch! Fooled again. Tubby people are manipulative!

The Loneliest Filly

This poor filly had the misfortune of losing her mother. She was moved away from the rest of the horses and put into her own paddock. She is very shy, but is slowly learning that we mean her no harm. I check on her daily to see if she is doing okay.

The Adventures of "Swollen Knee"

You should see me on the tennis courts. I am superhuman. Within a split second, I can take off and chase down any tennis ball. My speed is the fastest in the men's league.

This great athletic feat comes at a price though. If I were a Native American, my name would be "Swollen Knee". There has been a nagging pain below my right knee for months. It feels swollen.

Instead of seeing a doctor about it, I have convinced myself that my knee is not really swollen. Nooooo siree! I have a need for blistering speed, so my body is busy morphing that knee into a scientific evolutionary breakthrough... a SUPER KNEE! It takes time to build such a marvel.

In the meantime, I am still running on the tennis courts with lightening speed. There is always pain when I began to run, but once that blood gets to pumping it magically goes away.

I am just your typical male choosing to be stubborn in denial and Doctor phobic. Ahem.