Homo & The Marlboro Man

“Dude, do you have to sit so Godamn close?”
“Sorry,” said Tony, scooting over towards the window.
“And why the fuck aren’t you in the back, anyway?”
Tony looked in the back seat at Floyd, Frank, and Snowy, who were already packed in like sardines. “I don’t know. I thought three in the front and three in the back was a much better fit.” –Bobble-bobble-bobble
“It’d be fine if you weren’t one of the three up front!”
“What the fuck’s your problem man?”
“Oh man,” uttered Floyd, putting his forehead in the palm of his hand.
(inhale) “Here we go.”
“Huh…huh-huh.”
Jason turned around to address the three in the back, “You wouldn’t be laughing if you were in my situation How would you feel if you were up here sitting next to a flaming queer?”
“Say WHAT???”
“Huh-huh-huh-huh. Not good.”
“Who’s a flaming queer?”
“You! You haven’t been able to keep your fuckin’ eyes off of me since we met. Winking at me and spewing derogatory remarks in my direction. What the fuck’s the deal with you? I don’t go that way.”
“Neither do I, you narcissist fuckin’ nut-job!”
“Nut? Job? An interesting choice of words. Not crazy, insane or wrong…but NUT! And job! You know why? Because you got my nuts on your brain!” Continue reading

Return To Sender

burning-diploma

“Where you off to in such a hurry?”

“They just kicked me out of school,” said Mahdakis, stopping to acknowledge Floyd. “I guess I got to start looking for some sort of a job, or something.”

“Well that wasn’t very nice of them. What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Ya had to do something. They don’t just kick you out of school for doing nothing.”

Mahdakis took a puff of his cigar. “Apparently they do.”

“Hmm…who knew?”

“Hey dudes! What’s up?” Nicki said, coming out of the school, slapping them both on the ass. “Shouldn’t you guys be in class, or something?”

“Us? I thought you graduated a few months ago. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to say hi to a couple of teachers. Ask how their summer was, you know?”

“Did you have sex with them?”

“What? No! What’s the matter with you?”

“Then why are you talking to teachers when you don’t have to?”

“Never mind.”

“Mahdakis just got kicked out of school.”

“For how long?”

“Forever long. Mr. Fuss said if I quit on my own, it will look better on my record, so I did.”

“Shit man, what did you do?”

“Nothin’ Hee-hee-hee-hee. He did nothing!”

“And it seems that’s not an acceptable practice.”

“Well, duh,” Nicki said, getting in his face. “You’re supposed to do something, anything…but you can’t just do nothing.”

“Ahh….and nothing is not something, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“But anything is something.”

“And something can be anything.”

“Most definitely.”

“But you can make something out of nothing, people do it all the time.”

“And you can make nothing out of something, although it’s not recommended.”

“So where did I go wrong?”

“It sounds like you were trying to make anything out of nothing, buddy, that’s the problem here.”

“Okay, but can’t you make nothing out of anything?”

“Sure. Politicians do it on a daily basis.”

“Now I see.”

“Alright, enough of you assholes. Anyone seen Tony?”

“He went to pick up his car this morning, and then go to work. They offered him new full-time hours. If it works out, he’s hoping his birth-givers will let him quit school.”

“Quit school?”

“Well at least he can say he was doing something.”

“He can’t quit school! And where the hell is he? That asshole! He told me to meet him here because he didn’t have a ride!”

“I don’t know, Nick, but he left a while ago, and what do you mean, quit school? Why not? Thousands of people do it every day.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Or wrong.”

“But it does make it trendy.”

“I’m thinking about doing it!”

“When?”

“How about right now? Hee-hee-hee-hee,” Floyd laughed, slapped him on the back and started walking away from the school with him. “Want some company?”

“Sure. The more the merrier.”

“Yeah, let’s see how fuckin’ merry you guys are standing in the unemployment line. What the fuck? What are you idiots gonna do with yourselves?”

“I don’t know,” Mahdakis confessed. “I guess whatever teenage dropouts do.”

“Wanna get high?”

“Sure.”

“Listen to yourselves. What a bunch of fuckin’ B.U.R.N.O.U.T.S.”

“Okay Mrs. Smarty pants, what would you do?”

“I don’t know,” said Nicki, swinging a set of keys around. “But I have my birth-giver’s car all day, nowhere to go, and a bag of purple microdot.”

“Where’s the car?”

“The Jeep’s over there, right in front.”

“I thought you couldn’t park there.’

“Student’s can’t park there but I’m not a student anymore, remember?”

“See? You get all kinds of special privileges and access to the school once you don’t go here anymore, or have any real use for it.”

“But while you’re here, you’re treated like an animal. This makes sense to you guys?”

“It’s incentive.’

“Incentive would be getting a blowjob from your teacher after a good grade.”

“That’d be a lot of blowjobs.”

“Not if she taught you idiots. Besides, what if it was a guy teacher, you assholes? You want some old dude slobberin’ all over your cocks?”

“I don’t know, that wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.”

“She says it like it’s a bad thing.”

“You know I read somewhere that Japanese female-birth-givers do just that for their male offspring, when they bring home a good grade for the semester.”

“That’s just sick, you know that. What kind of a normal person would want their female-birth-giver giving them head?”

“Have you ever met Floyd’s female-birth-giver?”

“Shut up, dude.” Floyd looked over at Nicki and said, “Normal is all how you are raised. If you’re taught that this is normal, you don’t think of it as odd.”

“Meaning, the female-birth-givers go down on their offspring when they’re young? What are you, an asshole?”

“It’s true. In that same report, they explained how they masturbate their male offspring when they’re very young so as to stop them from crying, and continue this practice well into puberty.”

“Makes sense.”

“What??? Mahdakis, where do you come up with this shit?”

“I read a lot.”

“Maybe if you read more of your assignments instead of whacking off to National Geographic, or whatever, you wouldn’t be repeating your senior year again.”

“Aren’t you paying attention? I’m not.”

© 2011 Mark Rogers

Front Cover for Driftwood (book 1)

Driftwood (Book I)

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Remember Tomorrow

“The only good thing about today is it’s still young and there’s still hope we will die before it’s over with.”
“That’s the spirit. What do you have against waking up tomorrow, anyway?”
“Tomorrow’s the reason I wanna get it over with today! Tomorrow we have to do this bullshit all over again!”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I am.”
“Oh.”
“Because tomorrow is the day we pay for our wasted yesterday.”
“Which is actually today.”
“Exactly!”
“But it hasn’t been wasted.”
“Not yet. But it will. And all we can pray for is that today–”
“Or yesterday tomorrow.”
“–stops right here before tomorrow settles in.”
“The day after tomorrow, yesterday.”
“Right.” Continue reading

God Is Everywhere

“It’s God’s way. You have to accept it and embrace it if you believe in God. God wants us to endure a good ass fucking from time to time. It’s just the way he is. I think he likes to watch, too.”

“You got problems,” Rizzo huffed, stomping away.

“It sounds like you got problems; not the least of which being, your subconscious struggles with faith.” He puffed on a Tijuana Small cigar. “You know, I just love how when something goes well, you fuckin’ people thank God for everything. Thank yourselves. You’re the ones who pulled through. It makes me laugh when people pray aloud; thanking God for all they have and exclaiming how God has shined his light down upon them for their self-righteous efforts. Well, by saying that, you’re inadvertently saying that God hates all the other unlucky motherfuckers in this world. The ones who live in backwards countries and are starving to death, or the ones who lose their homes to a fire. It must be because God hates those particular families and races of people. What about natural disasters? Were the victims of those disasters all heathens? That’s what people who thank God for all the joy in their lives are saying. Otherwise, why wouldn’t God give joy and happiness to everyone? He has the capacity to do so, right? I mean, he is the Almighty. Right?”

“That’s a good question.”

“You want the answer?”

“Probably not.”

“It’s because, number one, there is no God and this is all one blind crap shoot or, number two, there is a God but he’s dumb as a wall, which means that our creation was probably nothing more than a freak accident he had while making a pot of coffee. Or, number three, there is a God and he works in partnership with Satan to preserve the balance of good and evil. I mean, what would God mean without Satan?”

“I really don’t wanna believe that God is evil, if there is one.”

“You know in a community fish tank, when one fish gets really sick, it is best to take it out of the water and let it die slowly, rather than spread the disease. That fish didn’t do anything wrong. He was just minding his own business when he got sick but it is for the good of the whole community that he expires. It’s just a responsibility that the owner of the tank, or in this case, God, must take care of whether we like it or not.” Mahdakis held her hand, lovingly, and stared back at the night stars.

© 2011 Mark Rogers

Front Cover for Driftwood (book 1)

Driftwood (Book I)

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Click here for more inane drivel and lascivious behavior – brought to you exclusively by The B.U.R.N.O.U.T.S. Chronicles™

 

My Secret Love….

With Charlotte, it never felt like cheating because it never felt like love. It always felt like what it was supposed to be in the first place; an overpowering, unadulterated hunger for flesh with a genuine sadistic regard towards dignity that would spiral itself into an uncontrollable feeding frenzy of self-respect and warm body fluids; otherwise known as hot, throbbing lust.

She never played hard to get and she would never make him pay. She was the All-American whore next door. She was one thousand Penthouse Forum stories rolled into one rapturous page-turning novel. She was an unsuspecting, upper-class nymphomaniac who knew how to scratch an itch.

The sex was just that. Sex. It was wonderful because it was just what he had imagined, hoped and anticipated it would be and it was predictably average because it was what he had always imagined, hoped and anticipated it would be. It was uninhibited masturbation with the presence of a live body. The feeling was mutual and Charlotte was the ‘come inside and leave your condoms at the door’ kind-a-gal.

Afterwards, there was never any spooning or sappy pillow talk or any gestures of gratitude. The gratitude being expressed, already, in various selflessly compromising acts; it was understood.

Rules were established in rapid accord. One rule was that the sappy pillow talk and spooning be reserved for Jezebel and Alexander, the people they each loved so dearly. There was no lip kissing other than when applied as a basic fundamental first move. Another rule was to stay focused on the main objective at hand: a couple of jarring orgasms delivered as quickly and as easily as possible. Making a day out of it would be a form of lovemaking and that was not what either of them wanted from each other. They had Alexander and Jezebel for such intimacies.

© 2011 Mark Rogers

Front Cover for Driftwood (book 1)

Driftwood (Book I)

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Click here for more inane drivel and lascivious behavior – brought to you exclusively by The B.U.R.N.O.U.T.S. Chronicles™