Friday, May 26, 2017

Crackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys ch 4

Crackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys
Book Two of a Stratham Town Father Andrew Trilogy
Copyright © 2017 by Gerald Lopez


Chapter 4


AS SOON AS HE got past the, still under construction, front entrance of the hospital, Father Andrew ran into Tate. The uniformed police officer walked up to Father Andrew and shook his hand.
“How are you this fine day, Father Andrew?” Tate said.
“I’m doing well, thank you, Tate. You’re not here on official business, are you?”
“No, Sir,” Tate said, then lifted the large, white takeout bag that he held. “The champ asked if I’d bring him a pulled pork sandwich from Piggy’s Place.”
“How is Christian doing?” Father Andrew said. “I was just on my way to see him.”
“Then come along and see for yourself,” Tate said.
Father Andrew and Tate waved to Tulah who was working the front desk and she smiled at them.
Christian was sitting up in bed when Tate and Father Andrew entered his room.
“Oh my God!” Christian said. “Do I smell food from Piggy’s Place?”
“You did ask for a pulled pork sandwich, didn’t you?” Tate said.
“Yeah,” Christian said. “But I was just being a lil bitch about it. I didn’t think you’d really get me the sandwich.” He turned to Father Andrew. “Hi, Father.”
“Hi, how are you feeling, Christian?”
“I’m ready to get out of here and go back to school,” Christian said. “The longer I stay in here, the more work I have to make up. And I don’t want to be left behind and miss graduating with my class—no matter how screwed up that class has turned out to be.”
“So, do you want your sandwich or not, Champ?” Tate said. “Because I’d have no problem eating mine and yours.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Christian said. “Throw mine on my tray. My mouth is watering just smelling that food.”
Tate opened the bag and removed a Styrofoam food container from it that he then placed on Tate’s tray.
“Did you notice Tate didn’t offer to give you my sandwich if I didn’t want it, Father?” Christian said. “Tate’s nice but a bit piggy himself sometimes.”
“Ingrate,” Tate said, then he laughed as did Christian.
“You two have become fast friends I see,” Father Andrew said.
“Tate’s all traumatized and guilt-ridden because he found me with my cute ass all naked and up in the air,” Christian said. “Being a cold-hearted bastard, I’m taking advantage of him and having him do my bidding.”
“You are a bit of a bastard,” Tate said. “But you couldn’t take advantage of me if you tried. And I wasn’t traumatized over your naked ass—I’ve seen better. I was shook up a little because I thought you were dead. And you know I follow your football team.”
“You have a nerve lying in front of a priest,” Christian said, then giggled almost like a child rather than an eighteen-year-old. “You know you haven’t seen a better ass than mine.”
They all laughed at Christian’s comment and Christian opened his food container then looked at Father Andrew. “I can’t eat all this myself, Father Andrew. If you want some you can scoot on up here and share. The sandwich is already cut in half and there are homemade onion rings to go with it.”
“I’m very familiar with Piggy’s,” Father Andrew said. “They don’t skimp on meat. And if you’re serious, I’d be more than happy to share in your meal.”
“I never say anything I don’t mean,” Christian said. “Come on over here, Father.”
“Christian’s telling the truth about never saying anything he doesn’t mean,” Tate said. “That’s why he has to apologize so much to people.” He chuckled.
“Do you have time to eat with us, Tate?” Christian said.
“I do indeed,” Tate said, then sat in a chair in front of Christian’s bed. Next to it was a table he could put his food container on.
While Father Andrew situated himself next to Christian, Tate took his food container out of the bag.
“I’m so dumb, I forgot drinks,” Tate said. “Let me go grab us some sodas from the vending machine. Cokes all around?”
“That works for me,” Father Andrew said.
“Me too,” Christian said. “Yo, Tate, I know I owe you money for food, the doughnuts you got, and—”
“When you get out of here and after we do the gym challenge you can treat me to a meal and we’ll be even,” Tate said, as he headed toward the door.
“I’ll definitely do that, Chicken Legs,” Christian said.
Tate who was already out the door poked his head back into the room and replied. “I do not have chicken legs.” He exited again and Christian laughed.
“He’s really a decent guy,” Christian said to Father Andrew while the priest ate an onion ring. “Tate, my godfather, and my uncle have taken turns staying with me here. You know what—I heard them talking to me when I was in the coma. I just couldn’t reply.”
“How are you feeling about everything that’s happened?” Father Andrew said after wiping his mouth with a napkin that was one of several on the tray.”
“This may not make sense, Father, but I feel kind of numb. Like nothing really happened to me, even my broken arm isn’t too bad today. For having my head bashed with a pipe it doesn’t hurt much. Can you believe I didn’t even need stitches?”
“God was watching out for you that day,” Father Andrew said.
“I really do think he was,” Christian said. “It was as if I was being kept some place safe while I was in the coma. Not here on Earth, but kind of between Heaven and Earth—but not limbo. It felt like a place of healing.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Father Andrew said. “Oh, Father Dominic and Vince said to give you their regards.”
“They’re cool, that was nice of them,” Christian said, as he watched Father Andrew take a bite of his very full sandwich half. “Thank you for visiting me, Father. Is Father Dominic leaving the priesthood?”
“Yes,” Father Andrew said. “He and Hélène Moulette are getting married.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely, Father Andrew?” He scooted closer to Father Andrew.
“Not really,” Father Andrew said. “I have my job and I always thought of Jesus as my best friend who I could talk to when I needed someone.”
“Yeah, but what about physical things?”
“Speaking of physical things, Christian,” Father Andrew said, attempting to change the conversation. “Before Tate comes back I wanted to ask how you feel about having been sexually assaulted.”
“I embarrassed you, Father, I’m sorry,” Christian said. “You’re really, really handsome, you know.”
“Thank you,” Father Andrew said. “And you’re very, very young.”
“I’m legal,” Christian said. “Would I stand a chance with you if we were the last two people on the planet?”
“If we were the last two, yes,” Father Andrew said. “But we’re not. Eat your food, Christian.”
“Sorry, again. The whole sex assault thing has stayed in my mind and made me think about sex of course. I’m kind of confused by it all.”
“How so?” Father Andrew said.
“Well, I don’t remember it since I was already out cold. To be honest, I’d been with a couple guys before and done all that—and,” he got flustered and ate an onion ring.
“And what, Christian?” Father Andrew said.
“It was Morgan,” Christian said. “I haven’t said nice things about him in the past, but I always thought he was really good-looking and… well, maybe I would’ve wanted to do it with him anyway. Does that mean I deserved what happened or that I’m just a big ole’ slut?”
“No, it doesn’t mean that, dummy,” Tate said, entering the room with soda cans, two of which he put down on Christian’s tray. “You couldn’t give your consent so it was rape plain and simple.”
“But it wasn’t so plain and simple,” Christian said. “Morgan is mentally unstable. He didn’t even realize what he was doing.”
“He realized it,” Father Andrew said. “He just didn’t know it was you, Christian, and he felt really bad about that fact.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Christian said. “Like he didn’t think I was good enough to screw or something except when he was looney tunes out of his mind!”
“Christian, calm yourself,” Father Andrew said.
“We don’t know what Morgan was thinking exactly,” Tate said. “That’s why he’s in a mental asylum. He probably didn’t like the idea of hurting someone who went to school with his brother. Don’t make it something it’s not. You were assaulted, not out on a date.”
“But I don’t even remember it,” Christian said, then took a bite of his sandwich.
“That doesn’t matter,” Tate said. “You weren’t given the chance to say yes or no in that situation. Even if you are a horn dog you still have the right to refuse someone.”
“I feel like I just want to fuck everyone to get my… my—” Christian said.
“To get your what?” Father Andrew said. “Tell us, Christian.”
“My power back,” Christian said. “He took my power and left me helpless and alone.” He turned to Father Andrew and cried.
“Oh, Champ,” Tate said and walked up to Christian’s other side, sat beside him and hugged him. “The one thing you’re not is alone—believe me.”
A short time later after Christian had stopped crying, they all sat back full from their meals. Tate had stayed on the bed at Christian’s left side while Father Andrew was on Christian’s right.
“I want to see Morgan,” Christian said. “Make it happen, Tate.”
“The hell I will,” Tate said.
“I need to know if he’s really sorry about what he did,” Christian said.
“No,” Tate said. “At least not until you’ve had some counseling and the counselor says it’s okay.”
“I’ll go with that,” Christian said. “But it won’t be on my permanent record, will it? When I go for a job interview they won’t see that I had mental counseling and think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think it works that way, Champ,” Tate said. “For now just take things one day at a time.”
“Okay,” Christian said. “Thanks for being there for me, Tate, you too Father Andrew. Can we forget the earlier thing too, Father?”
“Already forgotten,” Father Andrew said.
Tate laughed loudly. “Oh, Lord, Champ, you didn’t.” He looked at Christian’s face and laughed again. “You did. Man, you do have a nerve, I’ll give you that much.”
“Don’t embarrass him,” Father Andrew said.
“Heck, everyone has a crush on you, Father,” Tate said. “The girls, the gay boys. Christian just… well, he’s definitely got a set of steel balls on him.”
Christian covered his face with his hands, embarrassed.
“Tate,” Father Andrew said.
“Christian, I’m an ass,” Tate said. “I’d do Father Andrew myself if given half the chance, okay, bud. You’re more of a man than me if you actually went for it.” He gave a hand salute to Christian who was looking at him. “Heck, try going on a date with Vince when all he has on his mind is the good priest here.”
“Everybody likes Vince too,” Christian said. “I don’t see what the big deal with him is anyway. He’s a blond, albeit a strawberry one—I’m blond. Father Andrew is more attractive in my book. Heck, even you’re more attractive, Tate.”
“Geez, thanks for that,” Tate said.
“You do have those chicken legs,” Christian said.
“Christian, where have your parents been all the time you’ve been here?” Father Andrew said.
“That would be the million dollar question,” Tate said. “They should’ve been here with their son.”
“They’ve been in Savannah visiting my older brother Doug and his family. Doug’s a fireman and has two small kids. The kids are really cute.”
“And your parents were too busy with Douggie boy to come visit you,” Tate said. “That really pisses me off!”
“Did someone mention us and pissing in the same sentence?” Mathis Tyson said.

Kilts


Singlets


Dance


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Bulges


Body painting


Body painting


Body painting


!


Thursday, May 25, 2017

EMT: A Tale of Love and Disaster Ch 4

EMT: A Tale of Love and Disaster
Copyright 2017 by Etienne

Chapter 4


THE REST OF THE day went by fairly uneventfully. Brody and Ron responded to three calls, all of which involved transporting people to the hospital—people with life-threatening problems; who for one reason or another, were unable to be transported by family. Brody actually found time in the hour before dinner to make use of the workout room. Jonas was doing the same thing, and they spotted each other on the bench press.
“Looking good, buddy,” Jonas said when Brody had an impressive amount of weights in the air over his head.
Somehow, that simple affirmation from one of his new friends and co-workers meant more to Brody than he could explain to himself, and he was a bit overwhelmed. Still, he managed to return the bar to its holder, and huff out a brief “Thank you” to Jonas.
Brody took a quick shower, then sat down at the table with the rest of the men—feeling really, really good about his job choice. A feeling that lasted all of fifteen minutes until his cell phone rang, and he looked at the caller-ID. “Excuse me, guys, I have to take this call,” Brody said, and hurriedly left the table. He stepped into the relative privacy of the weight room before he answered the phone. “Hello.”
“Hello,” the somewhat strained voice of Mary Ann said into his ear.
“How are things in Iowa?”
“Forget Iowa. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You know damn well what I mean. Your mother said you were at work—at the fire department.”
“That’s true.”
“Brody, you know I didn’t want you to take that job.”
“That’s too bad, Mary Ann. I’ve taken it, and I’m going to stay here.”
“After all our plans—”
“—Whoa. Those were never my plans. It was always what you wanted.”
“That’s too bad,” she said. “If you want to be with me, you’re going to have to change them.”
“Mary Ann, I have two things to say to you. One, you can go screw yourself; and two, don’t ever call me again. Got that?”
Brody hung up before she could respond. He returned to the table, and was shocked when the guys applauded.
“Oh, shit,” he said. “Did you guys hear that?”
“Of course we did, buddy,” Ron said. “You were practically yelling at the end of that call.”
“Sorry,” Brody said. “If you heard me, then I don’t need to explain, do I?”
“Not at all,” Jonas said. “And I, for one, say, good riddance.”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Lots more fish in the sea.”
“Maybe,” Brody said.
“Heck, Brody,” Harry said. “I saw you after your shower this morning. You’re a good-looking guy with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. You’ve got a great butt, and a dick most guys would be proud to have.”
“So?”
“So, you’ve got what it takes to attract a lot better than what’s-her-name. In fact, I’ll bet she wasn’t even a good lay, was she?”
“Honestly, I have no idea,” Brody said. “We never actually went quite all the way.”
“She was holding out for marriage, right?” Harry said.
“Yeah—can we talk about something else?”
“I just realized something, Brody,” Jonas said.
“What?”
“I haven’t seen you doing any texting on that phone.”
“For one thing, I don’t text,” Brody said. “And, it’s just a normal cell phone, not a smart phone.”
“You don’t text?”
“No, I don’t. Nor do my closest friends. We keep in touch with e-mail and the occasional telephone call.”
“I guess there’s hope for the younger generation, yet,” Andy said. At fifty, he was the oldest member of the group.
“Some of us actually find texting to be slow and inefficient,” Brody said.
“And more power to you,” Andy said.
Brody looked at his half empty plate and realized that he’d lost his appetite, so he excused himself, carried it over to the garbage can, and scraped it clean. After he’d dealt with his plate, he retrieved his iPod and tablet, and settled down in one of the chairs. Mercifully, the rest of the guys respected his privacy and left him to his own devices.
They only had one call that night, but it was in the middle of the night. The next morning, Brody showered, dressed in street clothes, and went home to face the inevitable questioning from his family. His dad was at work, and his mother wasn’t home, so he left a note and drove down to his grandfather’s house at the lake.
Brody pulled onto the parking pad next to his grandfather’s garage, and walked around to the front of the house. The house was a large two-story brick house, that actually faced the lake. The family entrance was at the side of the house near the garage, but he knew he’d find his grandfather sitting in the swing that hung from a huge old live oak tree.
“Hi, Pop,” Brody said, as he walked up to where the old man sat.
“Brody, my lad. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“I decided to spend my two days off with you, if that’s alright with you.”
“Of course it is, and the lake is gorgeous this morning. If you want to go for a swim, I just might join you.”
One thing Brody dearly loved about his grandfather was the fact that the old man never pried. Patrick Murphy was rail thin, had a full head of white hair, and was on the far side of eighty. Brody had always enjoyed the old man’s company.
“By the way, Brody, I’ve moved you to the upstairs bedroom.”
“Why? The master suite is huge, and your study’s up there.”
“That’s true, but I’m getting tired of climbing all those steps. The upstairs is yours, and you can take over the study as well. I took the rear bedroom, and have turned the other downstairs bedroom into a study slash library for me.”
Brody went inside the house and to the upstairs suite, where he quickly changed into a pair of Speedos. He’d spent so much time with his grandfather in recent years that he kept several changes of clothes in the house. On the way back outside, he retrieved a bath sheet from the bathroom, and took it out to the dock. They’d been through a couple of years of drought, and the lake had receded a good hundred feet from the former shoreline. The bottom dropped off rather quickly near the end of the dock, and Brody was unable to resist the pull of the water, so he ran to the end of the dock and executed a perfect shallow dive into the lake. When he emerged, he saw his grandfather wearing trunks, wading through the shallows toward him. They splashed around in the lake for a while, then Brody’s grandfather sat on the edge of the dock dangling his feet in the water while Brody swam laps for an hour.
“That was a good workout,” the old man said when Brody finally climbed up the ladder and collapsed on the dock.
“Tell me about it.”All (874)
“Seriously, lad, you’re looking good, fit, and reasonably happy; although I detect an undercurrent of something.”
“You’re too sharp, Pop. Mary Ann found out I’d taken the fire department job, and called me last night about it.”
“And?”
“It’s over. She issued an ultimatum, and I told her where to stick it. I like what I’m doing, and it’ll be valuable experience for me.”
“Good for you, lad. Don’t ever let anyone try to stop you from doing what you know is right for you.”
“Thank you for that, Pop. Can I buy you lunch at your favorite place?”
“I won’t say no to that.”
“Great. Let’s go get cleaned up.”
Brody spent a pleasant two days at the lake with his grandfather, and headed to the station for his next shift in a very good mood.

Kilts


Singlets


Dance


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Bulges


Body painting


Body painting?


Body painting


Goals


Movie review: Those People (2015)

Movie review: Those People (2015)

This is a very intriguing gay film, and I recommend it highly.  It’s basically the story of Charlie and Sebastian, who’ve been best friends most of their lives.  Charlie’s father deserted his family when Charlie was eleven, and he took refuge with Sebastian’s family.  Now it’s fifteen years later, and Sebastian’s father is in prison for misappropriation of investor’s money (think Bernie Madoff).  Charlie and several others act as Sebastian’s support group.  Charlie would like nothing more than to be Sebastian’s boyfriend, but it’s not in the cards.  Then he meets a pianist named Tim, and they have an affair.  I can’t provide any more information without getting into spoilers.

Some independent gay films have an amateurish quality about them, but not this one.  This movie is very well done, in every respect.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3899516/http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3899516/

Here’s the trailer:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3899516/videoplayer/vi190493721?ref_=tt_ov_vi







Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Crackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys ch 3

Crackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys
Book Two of a Stratham Town Father Andrew Trilogy
Copyright © 2017 by Gerald Lopez


Chapter 3


THE NEXT DAY Father Andrew sat at a picnic table under the trees in the field at St. Mary’s Catholic High School. He and his good friend Father Dominic were talking and laughing.
“I’m serious, that was the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had in my life, Dominic,” Father Andrew said.
“Damn, buddy, when you make your mind up about something you move fast,” Father Dominic said. “Heck, I’m still a priest and I’ve got a feeling by the time that changes and Hélène and I are married, you and Vince will be keeping house.”
“He is staying with me at present and you did just tell me that you were planning on moving into the house Vince gave you,” Father Andrew said. “So, technically Vince and I are keeping house at the monastery.”
“Does it count if you two haven’t actually had sex?” Father Dominic said and chuckled.
Father Andrew chuckled for a moment then looked at his friend seriously. “What the hell am I supposed to do, Dominic?”
“I’m not entirely sure, Andrew. Can I say that I do like us calling each other by our first names these days?”
“It’s not like you’re going to be a priest much longer,” Father Andrew said.
“You didn’t say we, Andrew,” Father Dominic said. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to be a priest much longer either.”
“It’s not as if Vince has said he’d be with me if I quit so—”
“Hold on a minute,” Father Dominic said. “If Vincent didn’t agree to marry you or whatever then you’d stay a priest.”
“Well, yeah, what would be the point of leaving the priesthood then?”
“Oh, boy,” Father Dominic said. “Take my advice and never, ever say something like that to Vince.”
“What’s wrong with what I said? I love Vince and want to be with him, otherwise I’d stay a priest.”
“Uuugh!” Father Dominic said, and pulled on his brown hair. “Andrew, right now I have no problem believing you’re a forty-eight-year-old virgin.”
“Say it loud enough for the whole school to hear next time,” Father Andrew said.
“Oh, Andrew, you just don’t get it. Now I completely understand where Vince is coming from and I’m afraid he’s probably right. You can’t leave the priesthood for Vince or anyone other than for yourself.”
“I don’t get it, Dominic. What am I supposed to do here? Really have sex with someone else first.”
“It sounds like that’s what you might have to do since you’re clearly not understanding where Vince and I are coming from, Andrew. I wish there was a whorehouse around here, I’d take you there personally.”
“That would just be anonymous sex,” Father Andrew said. “It doesn’t seem like the right thing to do.”
“Its not really, but, Andrew, you can’t put all of this on Vince. He’ll know your sole reason for leaving the priesthood is him and he’ll freak out big time—to use the current vernacular. He can’t deal with you at the same time he’s dealing with his father’s problem. That’s why he said he needs you to come to him already… knowledgeable?”
“I guess it makes sense when you say it like that,” Father Andrew said. “No wonder Vince said it would’ve been easier if I’d experimented with friends when I was younger.”
He looked at Father Dominic who was his age and had a strong, muscular build and good-looking face.
“Don’t go looking at me that way, Andrew Madera,” Father Dominic said. “I’ve helped you out before but not this time—not that way. You need a—you know, a buddy specifically for that purpose.” Not sure that his point was getting across, he whispered in Father Andrew’s ear. “You need a fuck buddy, buddy.”
Father Andrew stood, gave Father Dominic an appalled look, and was met by the shrug of Father Dominic’s shoulders.
“Didn’t I prove myself with Vince last night?” Father Andrew said.
“All you two did was kiss and jack each other off,” Father Dominic said. “Boys today don’t even call that first base. You still don’t get it, Andrew. You’re way too behind Vince in terms of physical experience. He probably noticed that last night and felt bad. Take my advice and go find yourself a gay friend to talk to because you don’t seem to get what Vince and I have tried to tell you.”
“Sorry, Dominic, I really am trying to understand.”
“I know you are,” Father Dominic said. “That’s part of the problem. You’re trying too hard again to understand something that you should get naturally.”
“To change the subject, how are things here at school,” Father Andrew said.
“Things are starting to calm down,” Father Dominic said. “Pete is the man of the hour because of that great set he designed and put together for the Frankenstein musical. We’re even planning another performance.”
“Really?” Father Andrew said.
“Yeah, with Pete himself in the lead. He has quite the voice. Different from Clint’s but equally as good.”
“I wonder how Clint and Brent are doing,” Father Andrew said.
“Probably significantly better than you in at least one area of their lives,” Father Dominic said and laughed.
“You’re probably right and that’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?” Father Andrew said.
“I wouldn’t say it was ‘pathetic’. I’m sure I’ll come to you for advice too at some point. What do I know about marriage and raising two small boys?”
“You have more of a knack for the human relations thing than I do,” Father Andrew said. “Speaking of humans, I’m going to stop by the hospital to visit Christian and the ladies.”
“Give them all my regard,” Father Dominic said.


FATHER ANDREW WALKED to his apple-green Kia Soul and pressed the clicker on his key ring. When he got close he noticed a scratch. No—not a scratch. His car had been keyed on one side. He looked around but didn’t spot anyone.
The culprit had hidden next to one of the buildings where they could survey the result of their work.
“Poor Father Andrew. Don’t worry, this is just the beginning of what I have in store for you, priest.”

Kilts


Singlets


Dance


!


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Bulges


Body painting


Body painting


Body painting


!


Monday, May 22, 2017

Draining the Swamp is Messy

Subject:  Draining the Swamp is Messy

THIS EXPLAINS WHAT WE ARE SEEING AND HEARING FROM THE MAIN STREAM US MEDIA.

DRAINING THE SWAMP IS MESSY!

Our home is in a community of 2,000 homes located on the intercoastal in North Carolina.   Everything lives here.   Alligators. Water moccasins.  Rattle snakes.  Sea hawks.  Egrets.  Giant blue heron.  Mosquitoes… blood sucking mosquitoes.  We’ve watched from our back porch as dolphins chased sail boats and motor boats up the intercostal and watched the moon rise over the ocean to cast its glow over the intercoastal.

 When the community decided to drain the swamp in the center of the community, it was a big deal.  

 Draining the swamp was messy.   The swamp was about 10 football fields, about 6 feet deep, with lots of creatures living in it.   It was a dangerous swamp.  Not one that you would walk  or swim.   You would not dare sit next to it in the dark of a moonless night.   If not the snakes, then the mosquitoes would eat you alive. 

 As the water level decreased, the creatures were exposed.   As the water level disappeared, all that was left was 3 feet of yucky black mud and the roots to dying cypress trees.   The fish, snakes, frogs, rats, and birds were all stranded in the yucky mud.  

 Those creatures of the swamp fought for their lives as the swamp disappeared.   The fish flopped around in the black mud looking for some water for life.   The frogs croaked incessantly all night while their young pollywogs were stranded  lifeless at the top of the black mud.   Snakes slithered in every direction in the black mud in search of food.   The rats that live in hollows all along the water abandoned their nests while the birds that feed off the swamp creatures also abandoned the area.  

 Finally, the mud dried out.   No more snakes.  No more rats.  No more fish.   No more frogs.  No more mosquitoes.  And no more birds that feed off those creatures of the swamp.  

 That same thing is happening to the political swamp in America.   Trump is draining the swamp.   His picks for his cabinet are all swamp drainers.   Yeah, 3 are from Goldman Sachs.  3 of 23.   Practically all of his cabinet have executive experience (military, or government, or private sector) .. and it is the executive branch, now isn't it?  

 The mud is becoming visible as all the creatures who live in the swamp are fighting for their lives.   Government employees at the IRS, EPA, and Education are flapping in the mud like dying fish.   The lobbyists are slithering here and there looking for government funds like the snakes in the mud ... especially those who wrote Obamacare.  The liberal media cartel is chirping and croaking  all the time like frogs trying to reverse the draining.   The tax and spend politicians are dying off like the blood sucking mosquitoes.  The political appointees of Obama are fleeing DC for other jobs like the birds who lost their meal tickets.   And the information leakers like Comey and Lynch are looking for new places to nest like the rats that left the swamp.  Soon, all that will remain will be the dying institutions like public education as the dying cypress trees of our society. 

Everyone who lived off the swamp is praying for rain.   Election rain so Democrats might win some elections from Republicans since the Democrats suffered such horrible defeats during the 8 years of Obama.   Impeachment rain so the professional politicians can get rid of Trump as the swamp drainer.   Low approval rating rain so the media can claim they were correct about Trump.   Virtual rain, fake rain, so pundits can claim that Trump is not making any progress even though the results say the opposite.  

 Draining the swamp is messy, muddy.   But the mud will soon dry.   Democrats just lost special elections in Arkansas and Omaha after sinking millions into them.  Democrats might grab an election here or there in places like Georgia where the demographics are changing to black communities, but not without millions and millions of campaign money ... and Democrats cannot afford to do that for all the elections in 2018.  Democrats must defend 23 Senators in 2018 as compared to 10 for Republicans and Democrats must win 25 seats in the US House from Republicans and then win back 900 state legislative seats and 14 governorships.  If Georgia is an example,  that will cost Democrats hundreds of millions to try. 

 SCOTUS will be rendering its decisions about Trump executive orders just before the 2018 elections ... and more than likely, SCOTUS will rule against the Obama appointed judges who live in the lower court swamps.  SCOTUS will help Trump.

 Comey is gone.  Lynch is in trouble.   Clinton is back in trouble. The Clinton Foundation donors are talking.  Clapper and Yates both said that there is no evidence of collusion between Trump and the Russians.

 Schumer is gasping for rain like one of those stranded fish.  His Republican swamp buddies like McCain will abandon him as he dies … a rat leaving the swamp even though they shared an apartment together.   His Wall Street swamp buddies cannot help him.   The Washington Post and The New York Times and CNN and NBC are all trying to seed the clouds.  But none of it is producing enough rain to help Schumer stop Trump from draining the swamp.  

 Draining the swamp is loud.  Listen to all the hysterical liberal media cartel who are trying to make it rain in order to save the swamp where they live.   Chanting.  Lies.  Rain dances.   But no real rain is coming.  Only fake rain.   The swamp will soon be dry.    And when it is, then the next task to make America great again

EMT: A Tale of Love and Disaster Chapter 3

EMT: A Tale of Love and Disaster
Copyright © 2017 by Etienne

Chapter 3


THE STATION’S EMPLOYEES were sitting at the table savoring their dinner that evening, when one of them asked Ron how the new guy had done on his first day.
“He did just fine,” Ron said. “In fact, he seems to fit right in with this group, and more importantly, with the way I work.”
Brody felt his face grow hot.
“You’ve made him blush, Ron,” Jonas said.
“He’s young. He’ll get over that soon enough.”
Brody decided to change the subject, and said, “So what time do we hit the sack, guys?”
“That depends on what kind of a day we’ve had,” Jonas said.
“And whether or not we were called out the previous night,” Harry said.
“Usually we’re all sound asleep by the time the eleven o’clock news is over,” Ron said. “And before I forget about it, I need to remind you to have the clothes you’re wearing close at hand when you go to bed.”
“I usually fold my khakis and T-shit and leave them on my nightstand,” Jonas said.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Brody said.
Later, while the other men were watching TV, Brody settled back in one of the recliners. He was listening to music on his iPod, and reading a book on an iPad mini; but after a while, his concentration faded and he began to reflect on the events of the day. For probably the first time in his life, he really felt like he was part of a team; and more to the point, a team whose members accepted him at face value. While it was true that he’d participated in a couple of team sports while he was in high school and college, he’d never really felt like he was a part of the team; and the way he felt at the end of his first day on the job was a good feeling. As the news began on the flat-screen TV, he yawned and rose from his chair.
“I’m going to call it a night,” he said to no one in particular as he headed for the bedroom.
Brody stripped to his boxers and carefully folded his khakis and placed them on the nightstand under his T-shirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he crawled between the sheets of his surprisingly comfortable bed and was instantly asleep.
He was jarred awake by a loud alarm, and without even stopping to think about what he was doing, he jumped out of bed and dressed as quickly as he could. Looking around the room, he saw that the other guys were doing the same thing. He stepped into his shoes, and headed for the garage, where he found Ron in the process of opening the bay doors.
“What’s up, Ron?” Brody said.
“Another accident. This one’s just down the road from us.”
Brody looked at his watch. “I forgot to look at the time. It’s six.”
“Yeah. We got to sleep nearly all night for a change, and that’s always a good thing.”
As it turned out, the accident wasn’t a particularly bad one, and Brody and Ron patched up a few bruises and contusions without having to transport anyone to the ER. Their route back to the station took them by a McDonald’s and Ron instructed Brody, who was driving, to pull into the restaurant parking lot.
Brody did so, and Ron hopped out of the passenger seat. “Coffee and sausage biscuit OK?”
“Sounds good, but won’t they be cooking at the station?”
“Not today. The guys on the truck decided to try the new Hardee’s down the road. If anything comes over the radio that’s important, give me a blast on the siren.”
“Will do. Want some cash?”
“I’ve got it this time.”
They were munching the last of their biscuits when Brody pulled into the bay at the station, and since the ambulance hadn’t actually hauled a patient anywhere, they got things restored to order in record time.
“Time to hit the showers,” Ron said.
“Yeah.”
“We got here first, so we can shower first.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We can’t have everyone in the showers at the same time,” Ron said. “Someone has to man the phones, so we limit the showers to two or three guys at one time.”
“I’ve got a lot to learn, haven’t I?”
“Not really. It’s mostly common sense.”
Sharing the shower with Ron, Brody couldn’t help but notice that he was in pretty good shape for an older guy. He has to be at least thirty, and probably uses that weight room a lot, Brody thought. Those red pubes are absolutely fascinating. He turned his back to Ron and began to soap himself thoroughly, hoping that he wouldn’t sprout wood. That had been an ongoing problem of his whenever he shared communal showers with good-looking guys, and he didn’t really didn’t want to think about what that fact implied about himself. Somehow he managed to maintain control over his body, rinsed off, and stepped out of the shower. A small table in the corner of the bathroom held a stack of clean white towels, so he grabbed one of the towels and began to dry himself. He was still toweling his hair dry when he walked into the bedroom area and went to his locker.
Harry and Jonas were in the process of undressing, and Harry said, “Shower available?”
“I think Ron should be done by now,” Brody said.
“Good, because I got all hot and sweaty washing that damn fire truck.”
“I thought it was clean when you left the station earlier,” Brody said.
Harry pointed at Jonas. “Yeah, but this dipshit just had to drive it through a huge mud puddle on the way back.”
“Oops,” Brody said.
“Oops is right,” Jonas said. “It’ll be a while before I live that one down.”
“Couldn’t you have avoided the puddle?” Brody said.
“I thought it was a shortcut.”
Harry snorted. “Some shortcut.”
Brody chuckled at that. “By the way, guys. I noticed that the bed next to mine wasn’t used last night. Are we missing someone?”
“Yeah,” Jonas said. “That’s Sheldon’s bed. He’s on vacation right now, but he’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Crackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys - chapter 2

Crackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys
Book Two of a Stratham Town Father Andrew Trilogy
Copyright © 2017 by Gerald LopezCrackpots, Crooks, and Cowboys

Chapter 2


“I CAN’T BE YOUR first,” Vincent said. “The pressure is too much for me. Even if it went well I’d always think of myself as the man you left the priesthood for and so would you.”
“What do you envision as the solution to this problem then?” Father Andrew said, genuinely concerned.
“Why couldn’t you just have screwed around when you were in school like everyone else. Sorry, Andrew, I should be happy to be with a virgin, but that—added with the fact you’re a Catholic priest is beginning to play on my nerves.”
“Only just now,” Father Andrew said, and chuckled. “That was rude of me, I apologize. But we have known each other since you were eighteen and today you’re officially twenty-four.”
“I fell in love with you at first sight,” Vincent said. “When I walked toward you in my parents’ garden and you looked up at me with those green eyes of yours, I swear my heart stopped for a second. You were and are the most incredibly handsome man I’ve ever known.”
“Thank you, Vince, but you’re straying from the topic at hand. Vagueness won’t do in this situation or one of us will get hurt… and more than just a little.”
“If I gave you a twenty would you stop by the nearest whorehouse and have sex,” Vincent said, then laughed. “This is so stupid. I feel like an idiot.”
“It’s your birthday, you can call all the shots tonight. But the one thing you’re not is an idiot.”
“Thanks,” Vincent said. “I sure would love a glass of wine. Since I’m spending the night, it’s okay. Or do I need to be worried about driving home?”
“This is your home for tonight, the next few days, and however long I’m here, Vince. Unless you want to go to your mom’s home.”
“No, I don’t. Tori, her Mom and sister, and Kimberly are all there. Even Dominic agreed to stay so they’d feel safe since Father Felix isn’t there. Did you arrange for Father—I mean Dominic to stay there?”
“Yes, I did,” Father Andrew said. “He’s still a priest for a tiny bit longer, although the Bishop put a rush on all that.”
“If you’d rather I leave, Andrew, I will.”
“For a smart man that was an idiotic comment,” Father Andrew said, then stood. “You don’t belong anywhere but here tonight… and every night if you’re honest with yourself. I’ll get you that wine—red or white?”
“Red,” Vincent said. As soon as Father Andrew was headed toward the kitchen, Vincent stood and spoke. “It’s just that if you’re upset with me because we didn’t have sex, I’d understand.”
“You know me better than that,” Father Andrew said from the kitchen. “Just having you around makes me happy. The rest, had it happened, would’ve merely been a bonus.”
Vincent put his hand down his pants and tried to rearrange the throbbing erection he had that was getting uncomfortable. He sat at the far end of the couch and waited for Father Andrew to return.
“Oh man, that really is unfair,” Vincent said and chuckled when he saw Father Andrew headed his way naked and carrying a glass of wine and two towels. His eyes were mesmerized by the thick, uncut, and very erect cock bobbing in his direction.
“In case you had any doubts as to how I felt toward you,” Father Andrew said and tapped the head of his cock with his hand so it bounced up rigid.
“Oh my God that is beautiful,” Vincent said. “I know I saw you naked when we all went skinny dipping, but you weren’t hard then. God almighty that’s nice.”
“God does some good work,” Father Andrew said, and handed Vincent his glass of wine then sat down on his towel at the other end of the couch. “I remember thinking Jehovah God was an absolute artist when I saw you naked in the pool.” He turned so his back leaned against the arm of the couch and he was facing Vincent.
“Andrew, a man has only so much willpower and my pants and underwear are growing tighter by the second.”
“Trust me then, Vince. We need to trust one another completely—no more games or doubts. We’re not going to have sex tonight. Take your clothes off and get comfortable.” He threw him the other towel he had brought.
Vincent stood nervously, but kept his eyes on Father Andrew. He slipped out of his shoes, then took off his pants, shirt, and underwear so that he was naked.
“Sit on the side like I’m sitting here,” Father Andrew said. “That way we’re facing one another.” When Vincent had done so and sat on his towel, Father Andrew continued. “Your cock is longer than mine when you’re erect and it’s so pretty. I like how pale it is.”
“I like how dark and thick yours is,” Vincent said, then chuckled nervously.
Father Andrew slid his foot out of his flip-flops and put his legs on the couch. As he stretched his legs out he let them softly graze across Vincent’s cheeks before he rested them on the arm of the couch.
“Put your legs up here, Vince,” Father Andrew said, then patted the arm of the couch he was leaning against.
Vincent did so and Father Andrew grabbed hold of Vincent’s feet and pulled them to him.
“What is it you find so enticing about feet, Vince?”
Vincent took a sip of his wine and smiled. “I don’t really know.”
Father Andrew held Vincent’s right foot in his hand and let his finger trace along its arch. He looked at Vincent, kissed the top of his foot, smiled, then spoke. ‘You have pretty feet, unblemished with long, but not bony toes.” He put his fingers between Vincent’s toes and heard him laugh. “I think you are so incredibly beautiful. Hopefully that doesn’t insult you. Men are usually referred to as handsome, but I think you’re downright pretty in some ways.”
“And I always thought you were the epitome of handsome, Andrew. You can call me pretty and beautiful because I know you mean the words as a compliment.”
Father Andrew gently squeezed Vincent’s foot then kissed it all over and let it rest on his chest. He thought Vincent looked happy.
Vincent held the glass of wine on the couch in front of him. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the feel of Father Andrew’s hand and lips on his foot.
Father Andrew felt a bit of mischievousness was in order. While Vincent’s eyes were closed, Father Andrew lowered his leg. He dipped his big toe into the wineglass then traced along Vincent’s lips with said toe.
Vincent opened his eyes and looked into Father Andrew’s eyes. Father Andrew responded by pressing his toe against Vincent’s mouth until the mouth opened to allow him in.
The sensation of Vincent’s tongue on his toe, followed by the sucking action made Father Andrew moan out loud several times.
“That feels unbelievable,” Father Andrew said, then he lifted Vincent’s foot and mimicked his actions. He saw Vincent’s cock get even harder.
The two men moaned for several minutes before finally stopping.
“I didn’t gross you out sucking on your toes, did I?” Vincent said.
“No. Feel free to keep that in our repertoire.”
“How did you like doing it to me, Andrew?”
“Um, well—It’s you, I like kissing your body.”
“Be honest,” Vincent said. “You were the one that said we needed to be more trusting and honesty and trust go hand in hand.”
“Okay,” Father Andrew said. “You have extremely cute feet and I liked kissing them. To be honest, I don’t really get it as a fetish. But it really turned me on seeing you enjoying it so it’ll be staying in our repertoire too.”
“We’ll discover your trigger or fetish one day,” Vincent said. “Everyone has one, you know.”
“Maybe it’s all of you for me,” Father Andrew said. “Your whole being is my fetish. I have a fetish for Vince.”
Vincent chuckled then moved around on the couch. “Sorry, I’m so hard I’m getting really uncomfortable.”
“So am I,” Father Andrew said. “He turned and sat with his feet on the floor, then patted the space next to him and Vincent moved beside him. “Let’s just jack off together, is that allowed?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They both began to jack themselves off.
“Can we kiss a little?” Father Andrew said.
“That’d be fine, I think,” Vincent said.
Father Andrew kissed Vincent. It was soft at first but grew harder and more passionate. Vincent felt like he was in Heaven. He was still scared but knew he could trust Father Andrew to be mindful of the boundaries they’d set.
Vincent let go of his cock, held Father Andrew’s hand, then hugged him. A second later he felt Father Andrew’s hand wrapped firmly around his cock.
Father Andrew could hear Vincent breathing heavily in his ear. His hot breaths made his body tingle.
“Is this okay, Vince? I won’t go any further tonight, I promise.”
“Uh-huh,” Vincent said, “It’s fine.”
Vincent stopped hugging Father Andrew and reached for his cock. The two jacked each other off rapidly while moaning.
“I’m close, Vince!”
“So am I, don’t stop.”
A few seconds later both men were shooting hot cum on their chests. Vincent leaned against Father Andrew exhausted.
“I’m sorry I’m such a pain,” Vincent said.
“You’re not,” Father Andrew said, then smiled. “This may have not qualified as actual sex but I think it’s fairly obvious I enjoyed it. Does it solve our problem?”
“My problem you mean,” Vincent said.
“If it’s your problem, or my problem, then it’s our problem,” Father Andrew said.
“How do you feel inside, Andrew?”
“Fine,” Father Andrew said. “Great! Like proposing actually.”
Vincent lowered his head and sighed.
“Is that not good?” Father Andrew said.
“No it’s not good. I don’t want you leaving the priesthood because of me.”
“Again, would you make me a truly happy man and tell me in detail what it is you want and need?” Father Andrew said. “Do you even know what that is?”
“I want you to come to me a man already fully aware of himself, so I can’t be blamed for anything,” Vincent said. “I want you to say you’ve done it and loved it then put your Roman collar on the bedside table and tell me you’ve left the priesthood. If you do it that way then I can know it’s not my fault.”
“How do I do that?” Father Andrew said. “And could you live with it if I did do that?”