enjoy...

two of the semi-comic peices, one from first act and one from second. both include songs. just imagine me singing them with the band and backup singers.

make sure to read the lyrics of the songs, as they have been altered a bit for relevancy and comedy.

---
Joe(y)


1988. A warm summer day. June, perhaps. Maybe July. The kind of warm Michigan summer beauty that delicately envelops you in, and sears itself gently into your memory.

Indian Summer.

My father had become engaged to a woman from our church who had a son from her previous marriage.

Joe.

Joseph.

Joey at the time.

Joey and I were being encouraged to become friends (at least) in that less than subtle way that two soon to be newlyweds try to force their children from previous marriages to melt themselves into a nuclear family.

I am not sure what they did while Joey and I swam in the Apartment complex’s pool. I assume they watched TV. I have a lot of memory of them watching a lot of TV. But always something that was wholesome or christian. They had their guiltier pleasures in watching occasionally R-rated movies, but never when the kids were around.

1988. The year of casual spandex. Joey’s nearly fourteen-year-old body was covered only by the sleek wet darkness of the black spandex shorts. My very childish floral print shorts that nearly fell of my skinny just turned eleven year old hips looked so incredibly lame and little kid compared to his spandex shorts. I can vividly recall thinking “this is what adult life is about. Having a grown up body and wearing “rad” spandex shorts, and hanging out with the big kids.”

We swam, we splashed, we talked about inane teenage things. Well, mostly he talked about inane teenage things; I just nodded cluelessly, taken in by the awe of this older cool junior high boy. We got bored. I wrapped a towel around my waist, dwarfed in my tiny frame by its fluffy length and width. He put on some black flip-flops and a day-glo green T-shirt, and we walked back to his and his mother’s townhouse, me leaping quickly from foot to foot to avoid the scorchingly hot pavement from burning the bottom of my feet. I am sure that with the towel wrapped around me I looked like some retarded kid trying to imitate a tribal dance he had seen on PBS.

We stepped inside, and Joey called out to my father and his mother, to let them know we had returned. They called out hellos from the living room, their eyes not leaving the television, I am sure. My soon to be stepmother called out to tell us to change in Joey’s room and drape the wet shorts and towels over the shower curtain bar in the bathroom to dry.

“C’mon” Joey muttered as he smiled.

We ascended the stairs slowly, him leading. I noticed the water running off my legs leaving tiny droplets of wetness in the brown carpet that covered the stairs.

He opened the door to his room, and the soft smell of testosterone gently ebbed forth. I took the room in, admiring that he not only had his own room, (a luxury I did not have with two younger brothers) but that it was only his ‘staying with his mother on weekends’ room. It was full of only child cutting edge teenage items. A boom box. Space Toys he had outgrown. Cassette tapes lined up in plastic organizers. A king size bed. This was living.

He closed the door behind me.

“You like Def Leppard?” he asked.

“Sure, who doesn’t” I lied, having never even heard the name uttered. My father only let us listen to christian music and Disney records.

He handed me the plastic tape case as he slipped the cassette into the boom box. A single eye glared at me, an eye common tow tow faces, on face seemingly mutated in pain, the other laughing in joy, surrounded by a red triangle. the screaming face stared deep within me from behind the smooth shiny unscratched plastic case.

The Hysteria album.

He pressed Play.

After the short hiss of the tape beginning, the first guitar licks of Pour Some Sugar on Me began to flow forth from beneath the metal grill of the speakers.

“My Dad bought it for me” he said to me, diverting my attention form the bizarre cover art.

“Awesome” I responded, attempting to impress him with my usage of 80’s valley speak, without realizing that fad had ended 4 years ago. I looked down at the eye on the cover art, but it no longer stared into my soul, but looked up and to the left, away from my own eyes, as if avoiding their gaze.

“Great song, huh?” he asked, still standing in front of me.

“Yeah, it’s great” I responded, still trying to trick the eye into looking at me again. I looked up at him. He smiled. I handed him back the cover, embarrassed, thinking he had been waiting for me to hand it back to him. He looked down at it, perhaps wondering what I had been so enraptured by in the cover art.

He set the plastic case on top of the boom box, and moved away from me, crossing to the other side of the room to draw the curtains. The room was lit only from the soft glow of the sun framing the outside edges of the soft cloth of the curtains.

“One time I was drying myself off in here after a shower, and there were painters painting the outside of the building, and one was right outside my window.” He informed with a smile.

“While you were naked?” I asked naively.

He nodded and smiled at me again, his dimples and white teeth warming my discomfort at the thought of anyone seeing me naked.

“Yup.” He replied.

“What did you do?”

“I kept drying myself off.”

“What did they do?”

“The painter on the ladder?”

I nodded.

“He watched me when he thought I wasn’t looking.”

“Oh.”

He was silent for a moment, and then turned his back to me, and pulled the damp spandex from his body. It caught me by surprise, and I forced my eyes to look away from his older boy body. My breath became a little shallow, as I watched his lithe form out of the corner of my eye, and removed my floral print bathing suit. I quickly grabbed my towel, and dried myself, covering as much as possible my young unimpressive form.

I glanced at him again out of the corner of my eye to see that he had turned profile to me, and was drying off the lower half of his body.

I had seen naked grown men before at the pool, but this was different somehow. This was not the aging balding hairy beasts I had seen applying deodorant to themselves in the pool’s locker room; this was the contents of my dreams that I had not yet had. This was beauty and youth defined. This is what I would soon grow into.

I could hardly keep my eyes from casting small glances at his older boy flesh while he slowly and methodically dried himself off.

And then he turned to face me, and began drying his hair and face. The opportunity presented itself, and since his eyes were covered, I seized the moment, and looked at his… penis.

My breath grew even more shallow. It was like looking into the sun brazenly during an eclipse, after you had been told for so long that I would cause you to immediately go blind, and discovering the most striking realization. Not only did it not cause you to go blind, but opened your eyes in a way you never thought possible.

I glanced at his eyes to make sure he had not noticed.

He was looking at me looking at him.

He smiled.

I cast my eyes to the floor.

I busied myself with drying off every thing I could without making myself as brazenly naked as he was, and to hide my pre-pubescent erection that had quickly developed.

But it was too late.

He knew.

He knew the disgusting desires my heart held.

And he turned to me and said:

Step inside, walk this way
You and me babe, Hey, hey!

and then came towards me with his arms outstretched and his erection risen, and made a real man out of me. he told me:

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on
Livin' like a lover with a radar phone
Love ya like a tramp, like a video vamp
Demolition faggot, can I be your man?
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light
Television lover, baby, go all night
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little mister innocent sugar me, yeah

C'mon, take a bottle, shake it up
Break the bubble, break it up

Pour some sugar on me
Ooh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me
C'mon fire me up
Pour your sugar on me
Oh, I can't get enough

I'm hard, sticky sweet
From my head to my feet yeah

I was losing my virginity to Def Leppard! How 80s is that?

Listen! red light, yellow light, green-a-light go!
Crazy little gay boy with a one man show
future queen, mannequin, rhythm of love
Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up

You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little
Tease a little more
Easy operator come a knockin' on my door
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little mister innocent sugar me, yeah

Take a bottle, shake it up
Break the bubble, break it up

Pour some sugar on me
Ooh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me
C'mon fire me up
Pour your sugar on me
Oh, I can't get enough

I'm hard, sticky sweet
From my head to my feet yeah

And then we tried everything he had seen in his father’s porno stash. I tasted the nectar of the gods that day, and it changed my life. My football playing straight stepbrother led me into the glorious world of sex, and I couldn’t get enough. We would fuck as often as we could, whenever and wherever we could. And he would say to Me:

You got the peaches, I got the cream
Sweet to taste, saccharine
'Cos I'm hot, say what, sticky sweet
From my head, my head, to my feet

Do you like sugar? one lump or two?

Take a bottle, shake it up
Break the bubble, break it up

Pour some sugar on me
Ooh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me
C'mon fire me up
Pour your sugar on me
Oh, I can't get enough
Pour some sugar on me
Oh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me
Get it, come get it
Pour your sugar on me
Ooh
Pour some sugar on me
Yeah! Sugar me!

---

Str8 Boyz

So, then, while I was rotting away in the foster care system in Michigan, my mother reappeared.
My therapist–slash-social worker hunted her down, and she was living in Odessa, Texas. When we had been placed in my paternal grandparents’ custody, we were told that our mother did not like us, and that she didn’t care about us. While I really didn’t believe it, I am sure my younger brothers and sisters did, because we were so young and naïve, you know? We never really received letters from her or anything, which I found out she had been sending, but my father’s side of the family had been burning them and any kind of packages that she had sent in order to keep us believing their lies.

It turned out that my mother had moved to Odessa to be closer to her father, who was ailing at the time. My therapist pulled a lot of strings, and managed to get me placed into my mother and maternal grandfather’s care.

I was saved.

Not long after, they got custody of Aaron, and a few years later, Jason turned 18 and appeared on our doorstep.

When I first moved to Texas, I suffered a severe bit of culture shock that I have never fully adjusted too. West Texas was a world of difference from the north. People were much more outgoing and blunt. I started High school there, and discovered what a wonderful world there was in West Texas.

Mostly because it was populated with straight boys.

Drunk straight boys.

Drunk straight boys with hard-ons, and no real sense of shame.

I was amazed by the fact there were practically straight boys lining up to let me go down on them, or to fuck me.

More often than not, they wouldn’t reciprocate, but I didn’t really care. They would take off their clothes, lay back, and let me go to town. I was in Heaven. Everywhere I looked there was a straight boy who was willing to experiment with me.

And here is how it would happen:

My phone would ring.

It would be some friend of mine or a friend of a friend or some girl’s boyfriend that I had met at school or at a party or whatever.

The conversation would start honestly enough, just shooting the shit, talking about whatever and whatnot. Then they would start telling me how they hadn’t gotten laid in X amount of time, and I would tell them one or two of my latest conquests, and they in the interest of being open-minded would ask me vague questions about it. Then they would ask if they could ask me a personal question, and would want to know what it’s like to sleep with another guy, and I would tell them honestly.

And then would come the magic moment.

They would tell me about some lame mutual masturbation experience they had when they were younger with a friend, or they would say “Well, I always thought about trying it, but I never had a chance”

“Give me 15 minutes to clean my room, and come over” I would tell them.

And they did.

ALL THE TIME.

I got to a point where I had slept with more experimental straight guys than I had slept with honest to god gay men.

And I was very proud of that fact. It got to a point too, where it became public knowledge that this was my habit, and that just brought em out of the woodwork even more.

And I had this secret fantasy that one of them would fall in love with me, ya know?

I mean, i knew that they were straight and that I was a guy.

But still I would envision them in my bed in night whispering into my ear “you are the only boy I have ever or will ever love”

I guess I shoulda known
By the way u parked your car sideways
That it wouldn't last

See you're the kinda person
That believes in makin' out once
Love 'em and leave 'em fast

I guess I must be dumb
'Cuz U had a pocket full of horses
Trojans and some of them used

But it was Saturday night
I guess that makes it all right
And U say what have I got 2 lose?
And honey I say

Little red corvette
Baby you're much 2 fast
Little red corvette
U need a love that's gonna last

I guess I shoulda closed my eyes
When U drove me 2 the place
Where your horses run free

'Cuz I felt a little ill
When I saw all the pictures
Of the jockeys that were there before me

Believe it or not
I started to worry
I wondered if I had enough class

But it was Saturday night
I guess that makes it all right
and he said,” you know, for a guy, U sure got a nice ass”
Oh yeah!

Little red corvette
Baby you're much 2 fast, yes U r
Little red corvette
U need 2 find a love that's gonna last

A body like yours (A body like yours)
Oughta be in jail (Oughta be in jail)
'Cuz it's on the verge of bein' obscene
('Cuz it's on the verge of bein' obscene)

Move over baby (Move over baby)
Gimme the keys (Gimme the keys)
I'm gonna try 2 tame your little red love machine
(I'm gonna try 2 tame your little red love machine)

Little red corvette
Baby you're much 2 fast
Little red corvette
U need 2 find a love that's gonna last

Little red corvette
Honey U got 2 slow down (Got 2 slow down)
Little red corvette
'Cuz if U don't u gonna run your
Little red corvette right in the ground

(Little red corvette)
Right down 2 the ground (Honey U got 2 slow down)
U, U, U got 2 slow down (Little red corvette)
You're movin' much 2 fast (2 fast)
U need 2 find a love that's gonna last

Boy, U got a dick like I ain't never seen
And the ride...
I say the ride is so smooth
U must be a limousine

Baby you're much 2 fast
Little red corvette
U need a love, U need a love that's
That's gonna last
(Little red corvette)
U got 2 slow down (U got 2 slow down)
Little red corvette

'Cuz if U don't, 'cuz if U don't,
You’re gonna break my heart, and turn my ass inside out, now SLOW DOWN!!
[This message was edited Wed Oct 22 9:58:20 PDT 2003 by cborgman]
[This message was edited Wed Oct 22 11:40:31 PDT 2003 by cborgman]

absolutely brilliant, chris!

thank you baby... and i love your new sig

anyone can feel free to offer sugestions to better them if you have any...these are not set in stone

i've said it before, and i'll say it again:

irresistibleb1tch said:

thank you baby!