(Channeling Seinfeld) What’s the deal with that?

Well at least it wasn’t a total loss…

I was dreaming about a new story and was able to get it plotted out. Later today when I’m at my writing group I’m going to flesh it out more. At least I got the idea out.

Here is it in all its blurry-eyed, just-woke, having-a-cold, sitting-on-the-can-pooping glory.

[ROUGH *(ROUGH)* OUTLINE….]

Devin Gruber & Travis Richardson

Writer – straight & Editor – Gay

——

Best friends since kindergarten. They are chatting with each other over video call from different parts of the US at public wifi spots.

Devin lives in Seattle and Travis in Oklahoma.

Scene: Devin is in line at a La Bou getting something off the menu when his phone dings that he got a text message. He texts back “give me another 10 minutes and I’ll be ready”

He takes a seat and sets up his laptop in the back corner and starts pecking at his salad as he starts the video chat with Travis. They start talking about stuff and catching up.

Some point later a hot chick enters the La Bou and Devin’s attention waivers. Travis notices Devin’s lack of focus and says “Where’s the cat?”

“Huh?”

“The hot number that is drawing your attention. Listen I know that look on your face. You just spotted a hot little number and now you are lost to me. I might as well end this call now.” He fake cries in mocking jest of being butthurt.

Devin grumbles back “oh shut up you fag.”

A grandmother two tables overhears this and in shock stands up and walks over to Devin, “Excuse me young man but I will have you know my grandson is gay and I find that term offensive.”

Travis starts laughing on his end having heard the interaction. He announces through the video call “Hey you old coot, I am gay. Him calling me that is okay. I’ve given him honorary homosexual bashing rights. You can look that up of Wikifag.com. There is a complete listing of all honorary members, including if they are circumcised, their girth, if they shave themselves or not. I’d be careful though cause quite a few of them are real dicks.”

The lady gets all huffy and storms off.

Devin is trying his best not to laugh out loud, “You are such a bastard.”

Travis grumbles back, “So now you’re going PC on me too? Call me a dick like you want.”

“Okay, you’re a dick.”

Travis grins, “You’re right, I am what I eat.”

They continue their conversation over a story and that is when the hot chick sits down at the same table grumpy lady just vacated. He starts trying to figure out a way to introduce himself having spotted no ring and seeing how she is carrying a book by Bernie Sanders.

Travis and Devin start to finish their chat when Travis says aloud, “Okay love you snookums and same time next week?”

Devin grunts as he looks over towards the lady to see if she overheard. Travis picks up on this too and asks, “Who is there now?”

“Nobody, catch you next week-”

“No no no no no! It’s the pair of legs isn’t it? I wondered what’s been averting your eyes.” He starts shouting “Hey pretty lady my friend here, Devin, wants to introduce himself to you!” Travis adds in a lower tone, “Oh if this one works out promise me I can be a bridesmaid.”

The lady, laughing, turns and faces Devin.

THE END

——————-

The above, with some red underline spelling corrections, is what came out of my mind and in that exact same order.

Now we get to see how well I polish up this turd 😛

I need to wipe my butt and crawl back into bed and hope I can fall back asleep.

Since I’ve been on kind of a self-imposed hiatus from working on my second draft of my Sup-Her story I’ve been doing a lot more of short story work.

It’s funny but my mind has been rewired to write. I need to write. I need to live beyond my flesh. I need boobies…Uh… that was the wrong part of my body speaking there, sorry.

So with still two votes out on the results from my sup-her reading victims, the tally still stands at 2 to 7. I just emailed one of the two people who voted short asking for a bit of clarification as to their thinking process. Hopefully, I will get an answer sooner so I can start anew on my re-write again.

I’ve been working on a number of partially completed Milf stories. The one I posted the other day was one such story while I’ve been writing two new ones as well. Those should be released after some further editing.

Today I am at a public library as part of a writing group and am currently listening to my amazon account’s DeadMau5 playlist. Aside from having a cold, life is good right now.

I know this moment of peace isn’t going to last as I have to get over to the laundromat pretty soon and toss in our king bed’s comforter into one of their machines after one of our cats threw up on it again. Yes again. I swear cats are stupid instinctual [boobies] creatures with no capability of higher reasoning. Its like they are all instinct and self-gratification.

-Titties for now

So I wake up in the middle of the night feeling the need to pee. I stumble out of bed and make my way to the toilet and plop my ass down on it and tuck myself down and start to go. Why stand in the middle of the night when its dark and turning on the lights would only hurt my eyes and further wake me up? I don’t get it?

Anyway as I’m sitting there my mind starts to [SQUIRREL!] think about things and for some reason I come up with a mentally retarded character by the name of Dameon who solves crimes. Think “Scooby Doo” mixed together with “Monk” the T.V. series.

I crawl my butt back into bed and start trying to picture how to even start something like that.

I guess that is what I get for eating chilli cheese popcorn and mentos before going to bed.

I didn’t really eat those but I bet you thought I might have. My mind is a scary place.

-BooTootles

So what does a person like myself do after leaving the dentist? Why go to McDonalds and order a strawberry shake with a piping hot order of fries to dunk in it.

Just to clear up any misconceptions… I’m 45 and don’t have a single cavity.

McBite Me!

TonyEMilf.com

[2016.01.21] “Kmart and the Burrito Beat Down”

By David Wheeler

Word Count ~ 900

I wanted to punch him right in the face as his sneering arrogant looking face met my gaze. I wanted to charge across the restaurants floor and beat the living shit out of this man. I had no real of proof of him doing anything so there I stood doing nothing. He could have been innocent but the way he met my gaze told me he was guilty. Every fiber in my being told me he was a predator and was gloating this fact back at me.

It was either late summer or early fall of 1980. My mom had taken me along on one of her shopping errands to the neighborhood K-mart (remember kids the “K” stands for Kwaulity). Part of the reason I had agreed to go is because I was interested in checking out the Star Wars toys from the release of “The Empire Strikes Back” a few months earlier. Being nine I just couldn’t get enough of them even though I had plenty of them at home seeing these in on the shelves was kind of a religious experience. My mom went to do her shopping and I asked if I could go visit the toy isle to which she agreed. I remember losing myself into my imagination and memories I had of the movie. I was oblivious to the real world around me.

I never heard him walking up behind me.

Somebody grabbed my arm and spun me around. “I saw you pocket that figure.”

I was at a complete loss of what to say. I was nine and had been forcefully ejected out of my element. I barely got out the words, “What?”

He repeats, “I saw you pocket those figures.”

I start wiggling my arm and he holds firm. With my free arm I reach down and start patting the outside of my pants and turning my pockets into rabbit ears. “I don’t have anything.”

Still holding my arm he says, “You are going to have to come with me.”

Even then, at that age, at that moment, something inside of me told me this wasn’t right. I said, “No.”

His grip on my arm tightens, “I saw you steal those toys and now you are going to have to come with me.”

I try to back away again and feeling how he wouldn’t let go I started to squirm. “I don’t have anything.”

He turns his head and looks up and down each side of the isle. “I know you have a tory stashed and you are going to have to come with me.”

I was on the verge of shouting, “No.”

He glances up each end of the isles once more and then focuses on me. “I need you to leave the store.”

I start nodding, “Okay but I didn’t-“

“Leave the store now.”

I nod again and turn and half run out of the toy isle and make my way towards the entrance as I keep looking over my shoulder. I don’t see him anymore but he wasn’t that tall himself and couldn’t be seen over any of the isles walls.

I exit the store and look around as I try to catch my breath. He isn’t following me and there I am, alone. It’s the middle of the day and I am still in fear of the man so I start to walk off into the parking lot. It is then that I decide to ditch myself behind my mom’s car should she come out of the store having not found me inside.

I wait forever, which looking back was probably close to twenty minutes, and that is when I get an idea upon spotting a large family that was getting out of their van. I decided I was going to walk up behind them and use them for cover to get back into the store.

It worked, I got back into the store without issue. I broke apart from my gazelle family and started commanding my way around the store in search of my mom. I didn’t dare make contact with any of the employees for fear of being persecuted. I was convinced they were all in on it.

I ducked through isles and hid myself in coat racks, what kid doesn’t do this kind of crap, awaiting employees to pass the area, so I could emerge safe once more.

Eventually I found her. She was looking at various pieces of clothing and paid me no special attention upon my return another than to give me a smile. She had a couple of pieces in her arms and extended out her purse towards me saying, “Here, hold this while I go try these on.”

Feeling as if I was being abandoned I took the purse and backed myself up against a wall awaiting for her return.

I slid tried to look as non-conspicuous as possible but when I turned my head to a side is when I spotted the man. He motioned for me to stay where I was as he advanced upon me. He stopped just before me and with a look that has haunted me to this day, asked, “Is that your mother?”

I nodded.

“You stay with her and you don’t leave her side, do you understand?”

I nodded.

He turned and walked away.

I just saw echoes of that look in the man who was just checking out my daughter as she made her way towards the restroom in the back of the Mexican restaurant.

– End –

Copyright © 2016 David Wheeler. All Rights Reserved.

My buddy is doing his best to ensure I get nothing of value done. Yes, I’m left hand 1 finger typing this.

Yep, I got a story I’m working on. I want to remind anyone who reads them that  they are a mixture of real and fictional elements. So while it’s true that you write what you know I don’t want anyone to take anything as being literal.

-Bite Me!

Okay, so I’ve gotten some feedback on the two different versions.

In all I’ve had 2 votes for the shorter “Me” version and all the rest, which is about 6 or 7, I lost count, for the “Myself” version. I will go back through all of the comments once I get the last of them back and put it together to get a clearer picture.

Note for myself…

(tsc)AM-y

(adlc)KH-?

(sco)JD-?

($20)ML-e

(sco)GB-y

(drs)LK-e

(drs)JR-y

(drs)SS-y

(tsc)DW-y

(gbeta)MH-y

Okay so that’s my 2 & 6 tally with 2 still out. For some reason I think I’m missing someone but this list is just off the top of my head, it will come.

************

[Edit 2 minutes later] The seventh “Y” was my own brother. Do’h!

I have the kids with me up at my parents house. They live in the hills and have a wood stove which heats the place. Well, it was going when we went to sleep and it was (surprise?) out by the time I got up this morning. I fumbled my way over to it and threw a small log in addition to some twigs and spent peanut shells. 14 matches later it still hasn’t lit.

I am giving myself a minus one.

🙁

I haven’t stopped writing, only slowed down a bit as part of reflationary process which I mentioned back on January 7^th. In the mean time I found I have been doing a bit more reading. Not enough mind you but it is still an increase.

I would like to do more of both but with my time being so limited, and me having been bitten by the writefluenzia bug, I have to take what I can get. Just the other night I finally finished a book I started back in September, ‘Not Taco Bell Material’. It was a book dictated by the always verbally prolific Adam Carolla. I say dictated because I am pretty sure he didn’t actually write it. I think at some point in the book he actually admitted to having that done so don’t go getting all high horse on me thinking I am calling him a moron. Now you may also be thinking ‘It’s January, how does it take you this long to read a book?’ Good question.

I started the book days before going up to Lake Tahoe with the family to spend a long weekend at a family resort. Silly me, I thought I could wiz through the book while relaxing by the pool while the kids frolicked within in a kind of stepford dream every parent envisions their vacations will be play out like. Ha! My son and daughter did the whole ‘Daddy! I’m a complete failure at everything I do and need to you to hold my hand at everything I do.’ Have I mentioned my five year old son is afraid to use public toilets or even urinals because of the swooshing sounds they make? Yes he is afraid of being sucked down a toilet. My ADHD daughter needs constant attention ‘look at me Daddy!’ as well. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that neither can ride a bike as of yet. They are deathly afraid. I’m sure most of you have heard of the ‘fight or flight’ mechanic that all creatures face when dealing with something stressful. Well my kids have the ‘freeze and do nothing’ mechanism thrown in as well. Getting back to why it takes me so long to read a book, have you ever picked up a book, and due to external stimuli, found yourself reading the same paragraph over and over until you finally realize that is exactly what you are doing? Yeah. Like I’ve said before, I do my writing on my train ride into work. It’s the only chance I get. The ability to read at home is a luxury.

Four months later I have started another new book. It’s more of personal aid book but it’s still reading.

Back when I was in the army and just married to w#1, at one point I was reading seven different books simultaneously. It was kind of fun as I had a book at work, a book in the car, a book on the toilet, a book on the nightstand, a book on the couch, and I can’t remember where else so much that I had seven at the time. It was easy to keep track as I was able to get back to each one within a week of having left off with it the last time. Now I’m lucky to be able to hide away long enough for wipe my ass before my kids start banging on my hideaway door.

Somebody asked me if I had ever read ‘The Wheel of Time.’ I looked right at her and laughed. Not because I actually had but rather because I was thinking there would be no way in hell I could ever read through that fucker with the life I’m currently living. If I started now I might make it through book 1 by the time my kids reach college age.

No, I want to write. I enjoy reading but writing is by far more important to me. I read when I can but often at the expense of the other.

-Tootles and Kisses