1. What is one word you would use to describe yourself? Happy.
2. What is the song you can’t stop listening to right now? “Wait For It” on the Hamilton soundtrack.
3. What are you currently watching on Netflix? “13 Reasons Why.”
4. What is your favorite sports movie of all time? “Friday Night Lights.”
5. Go-to pregame meal? I’m an omelet extraordinaire. I have an omelet with veggies, meats, cheese – the works. And before workouts, I always make this yogurt parfait.
6. Do you have any pregame superstitions or rituals? I actually rid myself of superstitions, but I do a quick 20-minute meditation before games.
7. If you could have any three celebrities over for dinner, living or deceased, who would they be? The Obamas. Just me, President Obama and Michelle.
8. What was your AIM screen name? brownsuganumba9.
9. If you weren’t a professional athlete, what would your occupation be? Therapist or psychologist. Something in that field.
10. What is your go-to karaoke song? “Hey Ma” by Cam'Ron.
11. Who was your sports idol growing up? Serena Williams is my sports idol.
12. What is your favorite thing to do on an off day? Be in nature. Hike, or go to the beach. I love to be outside.
13. If soccer had “walk-up” songs, what would yours be? Bruno Mars’ “That’s What I Like”
14. What is your go-to emoji? It’s called pop star, but it’s the new one of the girl with paint on her face. She embodies me as a person.
15. If there were to be a movie about your life, who would you want to play you? Angelina Jolie.
16. What if your coach had to describe you in one word? What would he say? Brave.
17. Do you have any hidden talents or hobbies outside soccer? No hidden talents, but I have a lot of hobbies. Acrylic painting. I got a whole set and I light candles at night and sit there and paint and look out on Lake Michigan.
18. Favorite cheat meal? French fries. Skinny, thick cut, garlic fries, TRUFFLE fries … I love French fries.
19. One place you’ve never been that you want to visit? Tokyo.
I’ve never cooked yuca until I went to Nicaragua last February. At first, I was intimidated of it because it looked so rough and hard. But once I cooked it and tasted how wonderful it was, I just couldn’t get enough of it! It was also one of a few vegetables that I could get pretty consistently around my neighborhood in Ometepe Island. Even when I came back to the states, I made boiled yuca several times. It sure beats mashed potatoes any day. And every time I eat it, it brings me back to the beautiful time I had in Nicaragua.
The hardest part of cooking yuca is cutting them through the hard skin in the beginning. It really feels like I am chopping wood. I just have to get a sharp big knife and wack through it. The cooking method of yuca is very similar to potato and other starchy tuberous vegetables. But unlike potato, yuca has a hard fibrous thick string in the middle, almost like a spine of the root which is inedible. It needs to be taken out after boiling the root.
This boiled yuca is a popular side dish in many Latin American countries. You can also deep fry yuca like thick potato steak fries or put it in a stew.
this was a prize for someone on furaffinity for winning my 100 watchers raffle haha. It’s vinegar doppio and diavlo from jjba as leopards talking on the phone. The only jojos i’m familiar with are the delicious thick french fries so i hope i did these characters justice lol
✨ Magical Correspondences of Tropical Fruits and Vegetables ✨
I’ve been thinking about this recently and decided to expand on the list in my grimoire on my sugarcane induced high. There are so many powerful and cleansing foods that grow in the tropics that could be used in magic. Also, correspondences are usually 99% subjective so these are all mostly personal and based off of experiences but I also based it off of health benefits and what it can do to your body. Also another note, I’m half Haitian and have only traveled to the Caribbean as far as tropics go so these fruits are mostly what you can find in Haiti or Guadeloupe. (So fruits specific to southeast Asia or other tropical places are not included) (original picture from here)
oneshot: 1826 words | warnings: mature content, voyeurism, unrequited love | rated NC-17
A big thank you goes to Krisfor being my beta reader.
It’s his most pathetic action yet, Ed is sure of that.
But in reality, he doesn’t even really care anymore. There isn’t much to care about these days at all. Sure, he’s managed to make a name of himself, to evoke fear in the citizens of Gotham - finally earning the validation he’s craved for so many years.
Still, he’s empty and he’s lost. And he might have snapped earlier. Slitting throats, stabbing resistant flesh of squirming and worthless filth until the green of his suit had looked as if it had been dipped in red paint.
Killing - it isn’t even fun anymore. Not when he doesn’t have someone to share it with.
So, after wandering around his apartment, feeling restless and with a hot tingling adrenaline soon to be replaced by an all too familiar hollow emptiness - Ed has made a decision.
The decision to get in his car and drive all the way up to the Van Dahl mansion.
ever since i found out mushrooms were nutritionally more similar to meat than plants, i’ve wished i didnt have such a strong aversion to the texture. not only are they much cheaper but they’re pareve which means if i were eating mushrooms instead of meat i could have them with cheese and still keep kosher.
I think texture with mushrooms depends to some extent on how you cook them – if you have an issue with the often slimy, chewy texture that sauteed button mushrooms can have, I would encourage you to give portobellos a try. Sliced into thick “fingers” and fried until shrunk and golden in hot butter, the texture is very similar to well-done steak – firm but juicy. I used to fry a thick-sliced portobello, then toss it on a roll with some cheese and a little bbq sauce and have a “steak” sandwich.
I mean, I don’t know what your specific texture issues are, and believe me I’m in no position to tell anyone to give something a try if they don’t like it, so feel free to tell me to go whistle. But once you’ve either found low-moisture mushrooms or found a good cooking technique to make them release their moisture and firm up, you may find you tolerate it better.
To the citizens of the United States of America from Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II
In light of your failure in recent years to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately. (You should look up ‘revocation’ in the Oxford English Dictionary.)
Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except North Dakota, which she does not fancy).
Your new Prime Minister, Theresa May, will appoint a Governor for America without the need for further elections.
Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.
To aid in the transition to a British Crown dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:
1. The letter 'U’ will be reinstated in words such as 'colour,’ 'favour,’ 'labour’ and 'neighbour.’ Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut’ without skipping half the letters, and the suffix ’-ize’ will be replaced by the suffix ’-ise.’ Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (look up 'vocabulary’).
2. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as “like’ and 'you know’ is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. There is no such thing as U.S. English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take into account the reinstated letter 'u” and the elimination of ’-ize.’
3. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.
4. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you’re not quite ready to be independent. Guns should only be used for shooting grouse. If you can’t sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you’re not ready to shoot grouse.
5. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. Although a permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.
6. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left side with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.
7. The former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline) of roughly $10/US gallon. Get used to it.
8. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.
9. The cold, tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. South African beer is also acceptable, as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of the British Commonwealth - see what it did for them. American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat’s Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.
10. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialect in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one’s ears removed with a cheese grater.
11. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies).
12. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.1% of you are aware there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.
13.. You must tell us who killed JFK. It’s been driving us mad.
14. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty’s Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).
15. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 p.m. with proper cups, with saucers, and never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; plus strawberries (with cream) when in season.
God Save the Queen!
PS: Only share this with friends who have a good sense of humour (NOT humor)!
Dipper folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the trailer as he watched people lazily walk past him. Fair lights blinked around him from the various carnival rides and blinking signs on food trucks that caught everyone’s eye at least once. He adjusted the bolo tie around his neck once before refolding his arms. It was a cool night so he sported his cape as it gently moved in the breeze that blew past him. He ignored the sickeningly thick scent of fried food and carnival animals in favor of looking for the familiar boy he’d had his eye on for months. His scowl shifted into a soft smirk as his eyes rested on the anxious motion of a boy in the distance.
He could see those soft blue eyes take in the sights, glancing around in awe as shaky hands gripped cotton candy. He felt his heart skip a beat when they landed on him and he looked away to keep his cool composure. He chanced a glance back, relieved when he could see the boy weave through the crowd to approach him. Biting back his smirk, he turned to watch the boy finally stand in front of him with a shy smile.
“Hey there, William.” He subtly pushed himself off the trailer and stood straighter. He ran a hand through his hair before shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I d-didn’t know you liked fairs.” Will didn’t take his eyes off him once despite his fidgeting with the small paper cone in his hands.
Dipper felt his heart flutter the longer those beautiful eyes watched him. His face heated slightly and he shrugged.
“We had a show earlier as part of the festival.”
“You d-did? I’m sorry I missed it.” Will frowned as he turned to look st the ground.
“It wasn’t our best so you didn’t miss much.” Dipper wouldn’t say that he’d looked for Will in the crowd the entire time.
“Still, I love seeing y-you perform.” Will’s face turned a darker red as he gently scraped the ball of his foot against the ground. “I always t-try to watch your shows whenever you perform.”
Dipper knew his better than anyone. Will had gone to every single one of his shows since they’d become friends, even when the poor blue-haired boy was sick. Dipper felt a small half-smirk spread across his lips as Will looked up at him.
“Well, you can make it up by walking around the festival with me if you want.”
Will’s eyes lit up in excitement and Dipper chuckled when he started nodding excitedly.
He tossed the small leftovers of cotton candy in the trash before walking beside Dipper. The shorter of the boys glanced at Dipper every few moments as he fidgeted with his fingers nervously. Dipper pretended he wasn’t anxious as well, but if anyone close to the boy had seen him they could see his small smiles and the way he’d almost trip over himself whenever he stared at the other for too long. He found that he didn’t mind the bright flashing lights of the rides or the horrid smell of frying oil around him as long as he could continue watching the incredible boy next to him.
“Do you like fairs?” Dipper finally asked when they were in an area a little less crowded with townspeople.
“I l-love them.” Will smiled warmly. “They’re always f-filled with really happy p-people.”
Will turned to him curiously. Dipper cleared his throat and looked away in time to dodge someone walking past them.
“I’m surprised there aren’t any kissing booths this year, really. Mabel wanted to do one as a joke but it fell through when Stan asked us to perform instead.” He watched a man snort when a small girl attempted to knock superglued bottles off the shelf.
“I would h-have paid for that.”
“What?” Dipper turned to see Will’s face heat again.
“I-I mean, everyone would have. G-Getting a kiss from a celebrity? That’s a o-once in a lifetime opportunity.” Will stammered nervously as he explained. Dipper just smiled.
“Once in a lifetime opportunity, huh?”
He stopped and Will stopped in turn to look at him curiously. The taller boy just smirked as he slowly closed the gap between them, watching Will’s eyes widen as the shorter boy moved his hands closer to his stomach to fidget with them once again.
“Would you take that opportunity if it was presented to you right now?”
“N-Now?” Will blinked and glanced down at Dipper’s mouth before looking back into his eyes.
“Sure. Think of it as a free kissing booth.” Dipper smiled when Will stuttered and trembled in front of him.
“Y-You want to k-kiss me? Right n-now? For real?” Will glanced around them as he bit into his lower lip nervously.
“Would it make you feel better if you paid five cents for it?” Dipper bit back the chuckle as he pushed his cape over his shoulders.
“F-Five cents is nowhere near enough. M-More like a hundred dollars.” Will rested a hand against his own chest.
“Mm, think of it as a trial.” Dipper hummed as he leaned in closer.
Will’s breath hitched as the taller boy leaned in even closer with half-lidded eyes before gently pressing his own lips against Will’s. The shorter boy squeaked when their lips met, eyes still wide as Dipper pulled away with a half-smirk. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest as he stared into soft blue eyes. He was very sure his face was bright red from the heat he could feel through it. Will’s shocked expression slowly grew into a huge, goofy grin before the shorter boy brought his hands up to his face to cover the bright blush over his own cheeks.
“I-I-oh my-” Will stammered as he covered his eyes. “Y-You j-just kissed me!”
Dipper’s heart melted as Will quietly laughed in excitement between them.
“There’s more where that came from.”
“W-What?” Will moved his hands away as he looked up at the boy curiously.
Dipper rested his hands against Will’s face before staring into bright eyes.
“I love you.”
Will’s jaw went slack in shock. Dipper just let out a bubbly laugh when he watched it finally hit the shorter boy. When it did, Will’s entire face brightened and a toothy smile spread across his lips. Dipper continued.
“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you and, if it’s alright with you, I’d be honored if you’d go out with me.”
Dipper nodded. Will closed the gap between them and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Y-Yes! Yes I-I’d-yes!”
Dipper wrapped his arms around Will and nuzzled into his shoulder. The longer they held each other, the more his heart swelled and he never wanted it to end.
“I-I love you, too.” Was whispered into his chest and Dipper was sure he’d never been happier in his entire life.
CarbQuick pancakes with sugar-free syrup and a few crushed pecans. Thick cut bacon. Fried eggs.
Let me tell you, boys and girls, this was WAY too much food. I got halfway through the pancakes and I was stuffed (hadn’t touched anything else yet). It was so disappointing. But also, eye-opening. This is easily how much I would eat before keto (just with regular pancakes and regular syrup) but I never got the signal that I was full or should stop eating. That’s one of the blessings of keto.
Anyway, this breakfast was really good but my eyes were definitely bigger than my belly today.
Mike was a pretty popular person at the
small Midwestern college he attended. It wasn’t just his brown-haired,
blue-eyed good looks—he was a nice guy, always willing to help out a
Freshman year had been a good experience for Mike. He got
good grades with a reasonable amount of studying. Although Mike had
played basketball at his high school, he decided not to go out for the sport in college. Instead, he visited the weight room once in a while and played on his dorm’s intramural basketball team. He and his roomie went to parties and had an active social life.
By the end of his first year in college, the “freshman 15” had found their way onto Mike in the
form of a somewhat softer stomach and a butt with some jiggle to it. At
an even 6'0" and a weight of 185, Mike was still able that May to
squeeze into the size 31 pants he wore when he weighed 170 the previous August.
Mike went home that summer and worked part-time at the family business. He also volunteered to help coach the local youth basketball league. He got together with his old high school buddies and had a great time.
By the first of September, Mike was ready to start his sophomore year. He checked into the
dorm and met his new roommate, a freshman named Charlie. Mike and
Charlie hit it off right away. Turns out Charlie had grown up on a farm
downstate and was at college to major in Agriculture. They had a lot in
common–both were serious students, both liked physical activity (Mike
in intramural basketball and Charlie in the weight room), both liked women, and both liked to eat.
Mike noticed right away that Charlie enjoyed the dining hall. The policy was “eat all you want” and Charlie took that policy to heart from the first day. Mike always thought he had a big appetite–he often went for seconds if he liked the main dish—but he noticed right away that Charlie had seconds and thirds of EVERY dish at EVERY meal.
how much Charlie could pack away at mealtimes, Mike was curious about
Charlie’s weight. Charlie was about Mike’s height but hefty all
over–just a big guy. The next time Charlie said he was going to the gym for a workout, Mike offered to go along. In the locker room, Mike made a point of weighing himself–189–and Charlie next stepped up to the scale. Mike wasn’t surprised to see the numbers rest at 255.
At Christmas, Mike invited Charlie to visit his family, but Charlie had to go home to help out on the farm. Same thing at spring break. By this time, Mike knew more about Charlie’s family and the farm.
Charlie grew up on a farm
owned and run by his grandparents. Charlie’s parents had died in an
accident when he was young, and his grandparents raised him. Even though
his uncle and aunt owned the next farm over and helped out, Charlie was needed at home during school vacations since his grandfather was getting older.
couldn’t help but notice that after Christmas vacation and spring
break, Charlie returned to campus a little heftier, and Mike himself
enjoyed the “care packages” of home-baked
goodies that Charlie’s grandmother sent to both of them. As she wrote
in a note to Mike, “Charlie tells us you’re such a nice boy we already
think of you as part of the family.”
At the beginning of May, Charlie offered Mike the chance to spend summer vacation on the farm. The hired man who his grandparents counted on “just up and quit”. In return for room and board, Mike would stay on the farm from mid-May until Labor Day, helping Charlie and his grandfather with the chores and all the projects which had to be completed during the good weather of summer.
thought about it, and quickly agreed. It sounded like a great
experience, and he really didn’t have anything special planned for the summer anyway. Mike felt good that he would be able to help out, especially since Charlie’s grandparents had been so nice to him with the “care packages” and everything. He
called his parents and they agreed that it would be a good experience
for their 20-year-old son. Apart from a day-long field trip when he was
in elementary school, Mike had never even been to a working farm, and the thought of healthy outdoor living looked pretty good to him.
Also, some hard physical work seemed pretty good to Mike too. The last time he and Charlie had gone to the weight room, at the beginning of May, the numbers were up to 200 for Mike and 265 for Charlie. Mike didn’t feel fat or anything–after all, he had been the star player on the dorm intramural basketball team that year–he was just concerned to keep in halfway decent shape.
Mike and Charlie arrived on the farm one sunny Sunday afternoon in mid-May. Charlie’s grandparents took to Mike immediately, and insisted from the first that he call them Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma smothered Mike in a big hug the minute he walked in the door, and Grandpa greeted him with a warm handshake and a pat on the back. Grandma was a stout, rosy-cheeked lady just as wide as she was tall, and Grandpa too, was big–a huge belly strained the front of his work shirt and poured over the belt of his workpants. Mike was shown his bedroom at the back of the house–the spare room, Grandma called it, but it was comfortable and had its own bathroom.
By 10 o'clock that evening, Mike was in bed—Grandma told him that wake up time would be 4:30 a.m. As he snuggled under the covers, he thought back to the events of the day. Charlie and Grandpa had shown him around the farm–a
herd of dairy cows, some pigs and chickens, , more than two hundred
acres of corn, sorghum, and soybeans, a very large vegetable garden, and
some fruit trees. They talked about the projects which needed to be done that summer–installing new fences, putting in a new septic system for the house and a new “environment friendly” system to take care of waste from the animals—lots of digging, then Charlie and Grandpa showed him how to slop the hogs and milk the cows and feed them. They then got cleaned up for dinner.
Mike’s first dinner on the farm
was something he would always remember. A heaping platter of
two-inch-thick fried pork chops; huge bowls of pork stuffing, mashed
potatoes, and buttered corn; and a creamy green bean casserole (the old fashioned kind with french fried onion rings on top.) In addition, a large bowl of steaming hot gravy, two huge loaves of hot fresh bread, and a large bowl of butter crowded the table. After grace, Grandma suddenly mentioned that she had forgotten the
salad–Mike thought she’d bring in some kind of chef salad
thing–instead, it was a jello mold topped with piles of whipped cream.
couldn’t help but notice that Charlie dug right in and ate like there
was no tomorrow, but then, Grandma and Grandpa did too. Mike observed
that Charlie helped himself to a huge mound of mashed potatoes, put a
large hunk of butter on top, and then poured on the gravy after the butter had melted. The food all smelled so good. Mike didn’t want to make a pig of himself, so he decided to take the lead from Charlie. Mike himself, for the first time in his life, had thirds–not that he took the
third helpings himself, but Grandma refilled his plate after he
finished his seconds and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he just
kept on eating.
Mike noticed that when all the
pork chops had been eaten, Charlie made “butter sandwiches”–two thick
slices of bread with a quarter-inch-thick layer of butter as filling,
and used them to sop up the rich gravy remaining on his plate. Mike decided to do the same and was amazed at how good they tasted. Charlie, with Mike following his lead, finished up the gravy in the
bowl by pouring it over a couple more butter sandwiches and shoveling
them in. Grandma brought out two pies for dessert–cherry and apple.
Mike, by now stuffed, asked for a small piece of each. Grandma cut him a
quarter of each pie, and before giving the dish to him added a large scoop of ice cream to the top of the pieces. Charlie, Grandpa, and Grandpa finished off the rest of the pies themselves.
Mike was so stuffed that evening that he had to lie in bed on his back–it was too uncomfortable for him to lie on his stomach or on his side.
The next morning, Charlie awakened Mike. It was 4:30 a.m. and Mike could hear the
roosters crowing. Charlie gave Mike a pair of “farmer johns”–bib
overalls to wear with a T-shirt. Charlie told Mike that he had outgrown the overalls last year but they should fit Mike “for a while”.
When Mike came in to breakfast, Grandma told him that he looked like a real farmer. Even though the overalls were loose on him, he came to appreciate their comfort during the day as he worked–and work he did. That day’s task, and the task for the next couple of weeks, was digging post holes for a new fence, and by the end of the day, Mike was sore all over. As a matter of fact, he used muscles he didn’t even know he had.
dinner, Mike was starving, despite an enormous breakfast (eggs, bacon,
sausage, fried bread, homemade cinnamon rolls, and a big bowl of oatmeal
served with a lump of butter on top and
sugar and heavy cream, all this washed down with a large glass of whole
milk) and an equally large lunch (stacks of sandwiches–pot roast, ham,
or cheese, oozing butter and mayonnaise, with big bowls of german potato
salad and coleslaw on the
side, and pie for dessert–again with glasses of cold whole milk).
There were also mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks (ice tea and cold
milk, accompanied by hot-from-the-oven home baked cookies in the morning and PBJ sandwiches in the afternoon).
Dinner was a repeat of the night before, except this time the
main dish was fried chicken accompanied by a large casserole of cheesy
au gratin potatoes. Mike was so tired from his hard work, he had to
fight to stay awake during dinner–the
only thing that kept him awake was his hunger. He had never worked so
hard in his life, and even third helpings weren’t enough to fully
Knowing that he had more post hole digging ahead of him the next day, and barely able to stay awake, Mike excused himself early to go to bed. Just as he was ready to hop between the covers, he heard a knock on the
door. It was Grandma, carrying a tray. “Mike”, she said, “we always
have a bedtime snack and I made these specially for you. I saw on
a TV show once that these were Elvis’s favorite sandwiches, and they’re
just so good we love them. I know you’ll like them too.”
Grandma set the tray down, and Mike saw that there was a plate holding two fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches, soaked with butter from the frying pan and still hot. A glass of cold milk was on the tray too. Mike didn’t want to hurt Grandma’s feelings after all the trouble she had gone to, so he ate the sandwiches and drank the milk while Grandma stood by smiling.
“What do you think, Mike?” asked Grandma.
“Grandma”, Mike truthfully replied, “those are the
best sandwiches I EVER ate.” Mike couldn’t help but belch as he
spoke–he tried to stifle it, but Grandma just smiled. And so, for the rest of the summer, fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and cold milk before bedtime became a nightly ritual for Mike.
As Mike finally drifted off to sleep, topped off by the
sandwiches and milk, he considered that he must have burned up 10,000
calories that day–a much better workout than he could ever get at the gym back at college. Of course, if Mike had stayed awake a while longer, he may have realized that at the
same time he was burning off all those calories, he was consuming at
least 13,000 calories of good country cooking. But who was counting?
That first day of hard work and big eating became the norm for the rest of the summer for Mike. By the first weekend, Mike felt like he had been heavy lifting in the
gym every day. He could feel that his arms and pecs, even his delts,
lats, quads, and glutes, were pumped up and swollen from his hard work.
At the same time, he noticed some growth in other areas, too. On Saturday night, Mike, along with Grandma, Grandpa, and Charlie, were invited to a family get-together to celebrate the
graduation from high school of Charlie’s cousin Sue. Charlie told Mike
that a polo shirt, dockers, and dress shoes would be good enough to
wear. The problem came with the shirt–the size L polo Mike brought with him was way too tight, so he borrowed one of Charlie’s old XL shirts. Same thing with the pants—Mike had to struggle to fasten the 34" waist of the dockers he had brought with him, and when he finally did fasten the button, he discovered he just couldn’t pull up the zipper, no matter how hard he tried. Charlie came to the
rescue with a pair of dockers he had outgrown a couple of years before
(“Grandma doesn’t believe in throwing anything away”, said Charlie).
Mike checked the label: 38 waist/33
length and thought they’d be too big.
To his surprise he found they just
fit over his hips and thighs. After he buckled his belt, he noticed
that the pants sagged a little in front, under a small mound of flesh on his stomach he hadn’t noticed before. Charlie then came in to check how the
pants fit–he was carrying a bigger size, just in case. He noticed
Mike’s little beginner belly and patted it, commenting, “Starting to
build a table muscle, huh?”. Mike laughed and swatted at Charlie’s thick
The party was held in the social hall of the Lutheran church in the nearby small town, and Mike met all of Charlie’s large extended family.
They all greeted him like he was a long-lost relative. Charlie could see the family resemblance in most of them–not in hair color or anything, but in size. It seemed that no one there was thin–the men ranged from hefty to fat, the women from plump to stout, and the kids from chubby to husky. Every so often, Mike was introduced to a relative who was hugely obese. During the week, Grandpa had been teaching Mike about the need for a farmer to observe everything around him in the natural environment, and so Mike was fascinated by all the fat people he met, and as Grandpa would have said, how they “wear their weight”.
He had never before seen so many overweight and fat people together at the
same time–guys like Charlie, who just seemed to be big all over; some
middle-age guys who were well proportioned in their fat–big chest, big
belly, big rump; and some guys of all ages with big upper bodies and big
sagging bellies with relatively thin legs and no butts at all. The women and teenage girls were the same. Even the teenage guys, while obviously showing off how buff they were, sported chubby cheeks, the start of double chins, and budding lovehandles as indicators of the heft to come.
All Charlie’s relatives impressed Mike with their sincere friendliness to him. Also, the spread of food was something to behold–every woman there had prepared her specialties, and tables running down the whole side of the hall groaned under the
load of platters, casseroles, pie plates and cake servers. It seemed
like every ten minutes, an aunt, cousin, or other relative approached
Mike with a plate filled with goodies. Mike didn’t want to hurt the feelings of any of these nice people, so he just dug in with a smile on his face.
Mike’s attention, though, was soon focused on Charlie’s cousin Sue, the girl who the
party was in honor of. Mike had dated a number of girls in high school
and during his two years in college, but, to put it bluntly, he had
never before met a girl built like Sue. She had to be 42DD! There was
more to her, of course–a cute face with rosy chubby cheeks, long blond
hair, a waist relatively thin (compared to her chest, anyway) and hips
that sexily flared outward. Sue seemed to be equally attracted to Mike.
She invited him to Sunday dinner with her family the next day after church (she and her parents lived on the next farm over from Grandma and Grandpa).
Actually, the whole family–Grandma, Grandpa, Charlie, and Mike–went to dinner the
next day. It went well, Mike thought. Sue’s father commented that he
had heard that Mike was “a real hard worker–for a city boy”. Mike
blushed and said he was trying–which seemed to be the
right answer. As Sue’s mom called them in to dinner, she said that she
heard that Mike had “a real healthy appetite–for a city boy”, and
everyone laughed when Mike replied “I’m trying to improve that, too”.
Sue’s mom had a spread on the table that was equal to one of Grandma’s feasts, and everyone dug in. Sue sat to the
right of Mike, and made sure that she refilled his plate as soon as he
seemed about to clean it. While they were eating, Sue’s left hand found
Mike’s right leg under the table–and she checked out Mike’s bulging quads and his package. Mike enjoyed every minute of it, but kept shoveling in the food since he didn’t want anyone to notice what Sue was doing.
The main dish was roast loin of pork. Sue’s father, who was carving, served Mike two huge slabs. Mike poured the rich pork gravy onto the meat and soon polished it off–it was so good. Sue’s father served him more slices of the
succulent roast–again, Mike demolished it all. Mike again followed
Charlie’s lead by using butter sandwiches–this time made from dinner
rolls—to sop up all the gravy and melted butter from his plate when there was no other food left on the table.
Sue’s father said, “Mike, I’m impressed. You’ve got a real country appetite. Why, you even ate all the fat on the pork–I didn’t think city people did that!” Everyone at the table laughed. Mike blushed but felt proud as he realized how much he had eaten. Sue’s mom added, “It’s a real complement to the cook when a guest eats big, Mike. Thanks!”
Mike had a big smile on his face.
After dinner, the men went into the living room to watch ESPN and “let dinner settle” while the women cleaned up. Mike noticed that Grandpa, Sue’s dad, and Charlie all unbuckled their belts and undid the
waist buttons of their pants, accompanied by sighs of relief as their
stuffed bellies found some room to expand. Mike wasn’t sure if he should
do this or not, but the pressure of his overstuffed belly got to be too much and Mike unbuckled his belt and opened the waist of his dockers. Relief!
didn’t think that anyone had seen him, but then he heard Grandpa and
Sue’s dad chuckle. As Mike blushed and reached to button up, Sue’s dad
said, “Mike, don’t be embarrassed to let your belly out. Eating big is
one of the pleasures of life. A pot belly is proof that you’re living good and that you have a good woman to take care of you.”
A few minutes later, Sue appeared and invited Mike to go for a walk around the farm. Although still full from dinner, Mike didn’t want to pass up this chance. They ended up sitting under a tree on top of a hill which overlooked the whole area. Sue talked about her plans—she was going to attend State U in the
fall and major in Home Economics—,and Mike shared his. One thing led to
another, and Mike discovered to his pleasure that Sue loved caressing
his body as much as he loved exploring hers. Sue stopped things by
murmuring “not on the
first time” as Mike unbuttoned his pants and unzipped, all set to enter her. After a while, they
returned to Sue’s house–just in time for Mike to go home with Grandma
and Grandpa and Charlie (“the cows don’t wait for anyone”, Grandma said).
By the end of June, life had taken on a rhythm for Mike. Hard physical work six days a week, with chores on Sunday. After the fence was completed, the new septic system needed to be dug in–in addition to all the
regular chores. Huge home cooked meals with mid-morning, mid-afternoon,
and before bedtime snacks (by now, every night Grandma was making Mike
three fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches, which Mike was wolfing
down with ease). He learned a lot from Grandma and Grandpa about
nature–observing the weather, caring for the animals, and the simple pleasures of life.
Mike and Sue got together four or five times a week, and Mike discovered that there are plenty of places on a farm for some privacy. Sue was the
hottest girl he had ever known, and he was attracted to her sweet
personality in addition to her awesome body. He was pleased too that Sue
was so attracted to him and his body–pleased, and aroused. He had
never before been with a girl who was so aroused, and so aroused him, by
the ways she used her fingers and tongue.
By the end of June, Mike had to ask Charlie if he had a bigger pair of overalls he could use–Mike just couldn’t button the side buttons any longer and they were super tight in the seat. Same thing with pants. Mike and Sue and Charlie and his new girlfriend always went out on Saturday night, usually to the mall at the county seat to go bowling or to the movies, followed by a stop at the big deal in the
county–a pizzeria. Mike was now filling out a pair of size 40 dockers,
and he had had to borrow some XXL button-front shirts from Charlie–the XL shirts which fit the month before were now too tight for comfort.
July continued the same way. By the end of the month, Mike’s latest pair of borrowed overalls were so tight around the hips that the front zipper actually blew out (“First time I ever saw that happen on
a pair of farmer johns”, was Grandma’s comment as she brought Mike his
four fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and glass of milk that
evening before bed.)
The next morning
bright and early, Mike and Grandma went into town to go to Sears–after
all, Mike did need to have some comfortable work clothes since he was
going to be on the farm for another month, and the overalls which had given up the fight the day before were a pair of the same size Charlie wore every day, so Mike obviously needed a bigger size.
At the work clothes section of Sears, Mike went straight to the fitting room. Grandma had given him a safety pin to keep the fly of the overalls closed, but Mike didn’t want to risk another zipper failure in public, so he waited while Grandma and the
salesman (who seemed to be an old acquaintance of Grandma’s–but then
everyone in town was) went searching for some overalls for Mike to try on.
Mike was waiting in the stall of the fitting room with the door closed. He could hear Grandma and the elderly salesman engaged in conversation as they came close.
“I hope one of these pair fits, Mae (Grandma’s first name). I’ve never seen a man so young with such huge hindquarters, and the
big belly he’s carrying is going to make it even harder to fit. You
know, they don’t make full cut overalls, so we’re just going to have to
keep on having him try on different brands and different sizes until we find something that will do…”
Gradnma cut him off with the remark, “Well, he’s just a growing boy and he’s been a big, big help to us this summer. We’ll find something.”
Mike tried on the overalls which Grandma gave him and finally did find a pair that was comfortable. He passed them out the door to Grandma. At the
cash register, Mike noticed that Grandma was buying two pairs of
overalls. When Mike said he only really needed one pair, Grandma said, “the extra pair is the next size up, just in case you need some growing room.”
Mike went back into the fitting room and put on the new overalls. He didn’t even think to look at the size label–he was just thinking that he needed to get back to the farm as soon as possible. Charlie and he were supposed to bail hay that day and the job had to be completed before the weather turned rainy.
As Mike and Grandma walked out of the store, Grandma spoke briefly to every sales person–it seemed like the way to the
exit was lined with people. Grandma, kind soul that she was, had a word
for everyone and introduced Mike. Mike kinda wondered why so many
salespeople were in that area of the store at 9:00 on a Tuesday morning, but instead just concentrated on being polite so he could just get out of there and get back to his job on the farm. What he didn’t know was that word had spread and the staff all wanted to get a look at “the amazing young man with the huge hindquarters and big belly”.
A week later, Mike, Sue, Charlie, and Charlie’s girlfriend were on their way home after their usual Saturday night date, having eaten in the pizzeria after an evening of bowling. After dropping off Charlie’s girlfriend and then Sue, Mike went to get back into the car when he burst the rear seam of the size 42 dockers he had borrowed from Charlie that he was wearing. Mike had noticed all evening that the pants were uncomfortably tight. When Charlie realized what happened, he started laughing and said “from now on Mike, you’re on your own. I can still get my big butt into size 42’s–you’re gonna have to get size 44’s.”
The next day, Mike and Sue went to Sears after church. Some of the salespeople recognized him from his visit with Grandma the week before and greeted him with big smiles. Sue took charge of the shopping and quickly found a pair of size 44 full cut dockers. She actually went into the fitting room with Mike. They found that the pants were a little loose in the waist–they fastened below Mike’s “table muscle” but were tight in the
seat. Sue said that was OK, she could let them out at home. While she
was saying that, she was busy massaging Mike’s butt cheeks. Mike was not
really listening to what Sue was saying–he just wanted to get out of the store so he and Sue could have some “private time”.
and Sue really enjoyed their “private times”. Sue couldn’t get enough
of caressing and admiring Mike’s huge pecs and growing glutes. The big dome of flab that now sat on Mike’s stomach specially seemed to fascinate Sue as she tongued and caressed the cavern Mike’s bellybutton had sunken into. Sue especially loved fingering the complex pattern of stretchmarks which adorned Mike’s bloated physique. Mike too had come to know every curve, roll, and crevice on Sue’s amazing body. Sex with Sue had become the best part of the summer for Mike, even better than Grandma’s awesome cooking.
By the end of August, a visitor to the farm
would not have been able to tell that Mike was really a “city boy”. His
bulging muscular arms, pecs, hips, and thighs were proof of his capacity for a
hard days work. The thick layer of lard which covered Mike’s torso was proof that he could really eat like a country boy, too. He had really
developed a preference for anything fried, preferably in lots of butter,
and he loved good country cooking, everything swimming in butter and
gravy, with every meal finished with homemade pie or cake, topped with
rich homemade ice cream.
Mike had always considered his mom to be a good cook–and she was. Broiled fish and meat, steamed vegetables and deserts based on fresh fruit were her specialties. Mike always thought his mom’s food was delicious–but by the end of the summer on the farm, Mike had developed a new definition for delicious. He would have been hard pressed to pick any favorite dishes from the many which grandma made, but he did have some favorites.
Even a simple thing like meatloaf was awesome the way Grandma made it. Grandma always made six meatloaves at a time–Mike particularly liked it the next day, when Grandma sliced the leftover meatloaves and fried the
slices in butter. She always accompanied this with “home fries”–slices
of potato and onions fried in butter until piping hot and tender, just
perfect with the tomato/cream sauce which he poured over the
meatloaf. Grandma’s desserts were awesome, too. She specialized in
pies—all kinds of fruit pies, rich custard pies, chocolate cream pie
smothered in whipped cream–and the list went on. Mike loved it all.
The day after Labor Day, Mike and Charlie had to pack up the car to return to the
dorm. Mike and Grandma and Grandpa exchanged a tearful farewell, and
Mike, of course, promised to keep in touch. After all, he was “part of the family” now.
Mike and Sue had said their farewells the night before after the
hottest lovemaking session they ever had. State U was quite a distance
from Mike’s college, but they promised to see each other as often as
they could. Mike returned home after the
farewell with Sue, and demolished his final bedtime snack–five fried
peanut butter and banana sandwiches and two glasses of milk. Grandma had packed a lunch for Charlie and Mike to eat on the trip back to college. They took turns driving and eating the
dozen pieces of cold fried chicken, dozen cold fried pork chops, two
dozen butter sandwiches, and two dozen large chocolate chip cookies in the package. It was Charlie’s turn to drive first while Mike tore into the food–finally, Charlie had to say to Mike, “Hey, save some for me!” Mike just smiled and let out a long, satisfied belch.
Mike attracted a lot of puzzled attention as he walked into the dorm. A number of his old dorm mates appeared stunned as he walked down the hall, greeting everyone. Who was this big fat stranger who seemed to know everyone? Finally Mike was identfied when people recognized his voice. After settling into their room, Mike and Charlie went down to dinner at the cafeteria. Mike attracted even more attention with his stupendous appetite. He was putting away his fifth serving of the main dish (chicken parm) when the caf closed (Charlie was only working on his third helping).
After returning to their room, Mike quickly fell asleep. It had been a long day.
Very early the next morning, before the cafeteria opened for breakfast, Mike and Charlie headed to the gym to reactivate their activity cards (classes didn’t begin for another two days). Mike wore a T-shirt he had worn during the summer and was now kind of tight, but he had to search to find some pants or shorts to wear. He couldn’t very well wear his farmer johns on campus (he had grown into the
bigger size that Grandma had bought him that day at Sears), and his
latest pair of size 46 full cut dockers needed to be washed–and were
already kinda snug in the seat, anyway.
Charlie finally lent Mike a pair of sweatpants that Charlie said were
too big for him. To Mike’s surprise, and Charlie’s amusement, they fit
Mike like spandex. Off to the gym!
Bob, the student aide working at the gym, was an old friend of Mike’s. Charlie went over to say hello to some of his buddies, giving Mike and Bob a chance to talk. Bob seemed confused at first when Mike came up to him. Who was this guy who seemed to know him? Bob quickly realized who this big fat dude was Mike when he recognized his old friend’s voice.
“Hey Mike, what the hell happened to you this summer?” asked Bob.
“Whaddya mean?” was Mike’s response.
“You’re fuckin’ huge, buddy”, exclaimed Bob.
Mike flexed his biceps and made the thick layer of fat covering his pecs jump and jiggle his pecs jump as he replied proudly, “Yeah, I was working on Charlie’s family’s farm all summer and I got a better workout than anything at the gym”.
Bob then asked, “Have you got on the
scale lately? Yeah, your chest and arms and even your quads are a lot
bigger, but I gotta tell ya, Mike, it looks like you have a beach ball
stuck onto your stomach and two beach balls glued onto your rear end.
You’re right that your muscles are a lot bigger, but you don’t have any
definition at all. Looks like ya got a pretty thick layer of flab on top of all that new muscle. You’re fuckin’ enormous.”
smiled and replied, “Yeah, I guess I have filled out”. What else could
he say? Bob was his friend and just being honest. Mike suddenly felt so
proud of his new heft that he flexed his right arm while flexing his
“table muscle” at the same time, forcing his big pot belly to jiggle as it stuck out even further.
Bob grinned, patted Mike’s belly, and said, “Way to go, Mike!”
At this point, Charlie reappeared and he and Mike headed to the locker room where the scale was located. Charlie stepped on first, and smiled when the scale read 275. Mike hopped on next, and was kinda surprised as the scale shuddered in response. When the number 319 appeared, Mike was so surprised he stepped off the scale, then stepped back on again, thinking the first reading was wrong. The scale again read 319.
Charlie grinned and said, “You’re a real farm buy now, Mike” as he swatted Mike’s big bulky butt. Mike smiled proudly.
Charlie said he had to use the restroom, and Mike ambled out to Bob’s desk to wait for him.
“So what’s the news?” Bob asked.
Mike smiled, again flexed, and proudly replied, “319”. Knowing the Bob was a phys ed major, Mike continued, “I put on almost 120 pounds of muscle this summer. Ever hear of anyone else bulking up that fast?”
“Fuckin’ amazing”, Bob replied. “You must have been doing some serious eating in addition to all that hard work.”
Mike just grinned and got a faraway look in eyes. His mouth started to water… Just then Charlie rejoined Mike. Mike turned to him and said, “Let’s see if the snack bar is open. I don’t think the
caf opens for another hour yet, and I’m starving–I need something to
hold me until breakfast.” Mike turned to Bob and said, “See ya
soon–I’ll be at the gym at lot more this year, making sure I keep this new muscle.”
“See ya, guys”, replied Bob.
Bob’s attention was riveted on Mike and Charlie as they turned and walked across the gym toward the door. There was a gap between the bottom of Mike’s tight T-shirt and the
top of his overstretched sweatpants, enough for Bob to get a good view
of Mike’s huge soft lovehandles, newly widened hips and enormous
butt-cheeks, including a good six inches of the top of Mike’s butt-crack. As Bob stared, the
thought came to his mind that it looked like there were two bear cubs
fighting inside Mike’s excruciatingly overstretched sweatpants as he waddled along.
Junior year went by quickly for Mike. Because of his experience on the farm, he decided to major in agricultural economics and liked his classes. He was able to go to the weight room a lot more, and was able to keep some of the muscle size he had developed during the summer. He went out for intramural basketball again, and although his huge butt warmed the bench mostly all of the season, he concentrated on helping the newer guys on the team with technique.
His appetite did decrease somewhat–from stupendous to merely huge. He was content with thirds in the cafeteria, he guessed because he wasn’t working as hard as he had during the summer. Besides, the caf food just didn’t taste like farm cooking. Even the butter tasted different–it was crap compared to the sweet home-churned butter Mike was used to from the farm. Even the fast food places around campus didn’t really satisfy Mike anymore–he just missed Grandma’s good country cooking.
visited his family during Thanksgiving. They didn’t have any comments
about his increase in size–after all, although they had been born in the city, both his parents were descended from farm
people themselves. Mike and Sue managed to see each other twice a
month, and at Christmas, Mike spent one week with his folks and one week
with Grandma and Grandpa–and of course, Sue and her family. Mike was
in heaven for that week as Grandma made all his favorites.
During Spring break, Mike and Sue announced their engagement. They planned to marry after Mike got his degree the
following year. Grandma and Sue both continued to send Mike care
packages—rich homemade cookies and other goodies arrived regularly to
remind Mike of that good farm cooking. By mid-May, when Mike and Charlie went to the gym for their ritual of hopping on the scale, Charlie was at 285 at Mike at 333.
That summer, Mike had an internship at college and so stayed on campus. He was able to spend a week at home and a week on the farm, and Sue visited him every weekend.
Senior year, Mike had a job as resident assistant at the dorm. That meant he had his own apartment at the dorm, complete with kitchenette, in addition to meal privileges in the caf. Mike made good use of the kitchenette and got back into the
habit of fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches with cold milk as a
bedtime snack. He also called Grandma often for advice about how to fix
some of his favorites, like home fries. They turned out pretty
good–Charlie thought so, too–but they still didn’t taste like
Mike was well-liked by the underclassmen in the dorm–they all called him “Big Mike”, and although he didn’t know it, he became somewhat of a legend among them as the “basketball dude” who had gone beyond doubling his weight since he was a freshman. His senior classmates verified to the awestruck freshmen that Mike had indeed weighed 170 at the start of his freshman year, and Charlie confirmed that Mike weighed 344 when the dorm opened on September 1st. All the dorm residents watched in amazement as Mike went around the dorm while on duty. You couldn’t say he walked around the
dorm–rather he gracefully moved in a combination of proud strut and
waddle, preceded by his big bouncing belly and followed by his big round
bouncing balloon butt. He made frequent stops at his apartment to pick
up a snack while on duty, and it was a usual sight to see Mike nibbling on some butter sandwiches, or a dozen or so homemade cookies while he “made his rounds”.
Because of his popularity, Mike was chosen player-manager for the dorm intramural basketball team that year. He put himself in at least once every game, sometimes even scoring some points. The opposing team, not to mention the spectators and Mike’s own teammates, were awestruck at the sight of “Big Mike” bounding down the court, big fat pecs flopping, big pot belly bouncing, and huge round balloon buns bobbing, wobbling and jiggling.
Mike was actually able to run up and down the court a few times before getting winded. Mike’s run was more like a fast waddle, but action on the court slowed down as the other players watched Mike hustle his fat ass. He always got a big hand from the spectators as he returned to the bench. At the final intramural game, Mike’s tight 5XL basketball shorts split up the back as he went back to the bench to sit down. Mike laughed and tucked a towel into the back waistband of his shorts for the rest of the game. Mike didn’t want just anyone to have a view of his big round buns–that was a privilege reserved for Sue.
Mike didn’t know it, but the freshmen in the dorm, after observing Mike’s eating habits in the caf and his never-ending supply of snacks from his kitchenette, organized a pool to see how much weight “Big Mike” would put on before graduation. The highest guess was that Mike would weigh 349, and it turned out that freshman who picked that weight was the winner, although he came nowhere near the actual number. Charlie confirmed one day in the
middle of May that Mike had weighed in at an even 370 that
morning–exactly a 200 lb gain compared to that weigh in in August
almost four years before.
Mike was a sight to behold as he proudly waddled across the stage at the graduation ceremony with elephantine grace, his graduation robes stretched to cover his big round pot belly in the front and his enormous round ballooning ass in the rear. Mike’s whole family–his parents, Grandma, Grandpa, and Sue and her parents sat proudly in the audience. Grandma had tears in her eyes and said softly, “that’s our boy” as Mike shook hands with the college president and received his diploma.
Mike and Sue got married that summer. Charlie was the best man. The ceremony was held at the Lutheran church, and the reception took place in the church social hall where Mike and Sue first met three years before. The whole town had been invited, and all the women lined up with plates in hand so Mike could sample all of the home made goodies they each had lovingly prepared for the reception.
After the reception, Mike and Sue moved to the
town where State U was located. Sue continued her studies at State and
Mike had a teaching assistant job while he studied for his masters
It’s now been five years since Mike and Sue were married.
Mike got his masters and has a good job as an agronomist and Sue enjoys
teaching Home Ec at the local high
school. At 28 years old, Mike’s weight gain has stabilized somewhat to
around 5 or 6 pounds a year. He’s somewhere on the far side of 400, but who’s
counting? Just last week, Mike found buried in a drawer the last pair of “farmer john” bib overalls he wore the summer he spent on the farm. He took them out and went to try them on,
thinking he could still get some use from them. He smiled, surprised,
when he discovered that he couldn’t even pull them up over his thighs.
Mike is noticing that Sue is starting to fill out a little and she’s developing that “farm wife” look that her mother and Grandma are such good examples of. Mike and Sue visit the farm
often–Charlie (now a 338-pounder) and his wife run it since Grandma
and Grandpa have “retired”. Sue is as good a cook as her mother and
Grandma, but she and Mike still look forward to the care packages that arrive from Grandma a couple of times a month.
And yes, Mike and Sue’s lovemaking is just as hot as ever!
It was 3:20 and the high school that is Columbine is finally letting out. All though I will have to return to tomorrow bright and early at six thirty in the morning. It was nice to be released from the cliques and constant competition. I am not “popular” and I’m not an “outcast”. I am my own thing, I kinda just float around from group to group when I am feeling social. I don’t have a permanent group of friends so to speak. So I was surprised to say the least, when Eric Harris came up to me and asked me if I was interested in going to the movies on Friday. “Actually I’ve gotta work on my-” I was cut off by him scoffing and angrily stomping away from me.
I didn’t really know Eric all that well, he hung out with Brandi and Nate so I knew of his existence. He didn’t talk much at all, to me at least. I wanted to chase after him, but I stopped myself. Thinking if he is that childish he doesn’t deserve any of my attention. I rolled my eyes and adjusted the straps on my backpack. I decided I wanted to simply walk home to get some fresh air, instead of setting in a stuffy bus. With that I promptly shut my locker and walked to the front entrance.
I walked past the kids waiting for busses and started my venture to the small lane where my house was located. While I walked I pondered on stopping by Wendy’s for a frosty and some thick cut fries, I decided why not. I made my way across the street towards the crowded chain restaurant. I pushed open the door and was greeted with cool air and the smell of fried food. It was strange, because I saw eric in a booth opposite the door I just came in. He was watching me, he didn’t seem to care that I saw him staring at me. I’m sure he never even looked away, so I just ignored it. I briskly ordered my food and waited, tapping my foot as I did so. I glanced back at him every now and again, sure enough he never looked away from me. I wanted out, it shouldn’t have shaken me the way it did. I walked up to the counter and told them I was canceling my order, the girl behind the counter tried to ask what I ordered but I almost sprinted out of there.
I walked as quick as I could without running down the street towards my lane. We lived inside the city limits to I didn’t live far from anything in town, I didn’t stop basically jogging until I was on my porch and opening the door. My mom doesn’t get home until Midnight tonight, she works a 12 hour guard shift at an electric company, and my father moved away long ago when he got job opportunity in England. I had the house to myself, I don’t want to be alone though. I want someone to be here, I know I need to calm down. The odds of it amounting to anything are slim. I thought about calling f/n but they didn’t have time to even drop by for a minute. I decided to just go upstairs and nap this shit off, I probably overreacted. I went upstairs and changed out of my school clothes, then into some grey joggers and t-shirt. Afterwards I switched out the light and hopped in bed, I drifted off thinking about nothing in particular and staring out the window across the room.
When I awoke I saw my alarm, It read 6′o clock. “Fuck” I mumbled not feeling very refreshed, just hungry. I yawned and sat up rubbing my eyes, “I should’ve gotten my damn food.” I glanced over at my window…It was open. “I do not remember leaving my window open?” I declared out loud, I started to chalk it up as loss of memory. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and put my feet on the ground. Then I heard it, the stairs creaking. Someone was in my fucking house, I didn’t know what to do. My body froze and I stopped breathing, I drew in a sharp breath as they came to the top of the stairs, my room was just to the right of top of the stairs. I don’t know what I expected to see, maybe a guy in all black carrying a weapon of some sort. What I saw was the opposite of that, it was Eric. He was wearing light colored blue jeans and a black shirt with an album on it.
I stared in awe, as if the whole world was in slow motion he turned to me. He immediately stopped, “What are you doing here?!” I said as if it was normal, I didn’t even scream. He ran towards the window, I stood up but he was too fuckin quick, I leaned over the edge of the window as he scattered down our ladder looking up at me with…a smile. He reached the ground before I could even process what was happening. I just saw him running towards his car, with something hanging out of his back pocket. The thong I wore to school today…
I really hope you guys enjoyed this, if you want I could make a part 2??? If you have any advice or comments please let me know-Erica<3