THE UN-GAY BOYS

So my buddy, from work, and I were talking about how utterly and completely heterosexual we are.  How we epitomize manliness at every level all the way to our core.  We set the standard for straight-as-an-arrow masculinity.  In fact, we are so purely hetero male and completely comfortable in our own sexuality that we do things just to PROVE that we are über straight.  I, myself, at least once a week, go to the Rainbow Cactus Club and pick up the first guy I see, get him to buy me a drink, and then take him home and either bang him in the ass or let him bang me, you know, whatever!  I do this because I am SO absolutely sure of my heterosexuality that I test my metal with a gay man every week just so I can say, after getting that nut busted in my face by Hansel, the Norwegian exchange student, “Yep, I totally knew it, definitely still Hetero, just like I thought.”  The next day I come to work and bullshit with my buddy about it.  We’ll say shit like:

[ME]  “Bro, I was jackin’ this dude off last night, at my place, and he busted such a huge nut in my mouth that I could barely say the words: GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FAG, CAUSE I AIN’T GAY LIKE YOU!” 

[RAWBEE] “No shit?  Aw man, yeah I got fucked in the ass last night by this gay ass Brazilian dancer, I was like, YOU HOMOS CAN’T FUCK AT ALL CAN YOU?  YOU GONNA BUST A NUT OR WHAT?”

[ME]  “Oh shit, that’s hilarious!”

[RAWBEE] “I know right.  So this dude FINALLY shoots his wad in my ass and I was like, ABOUT TIME GAY BOY! NOW GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE, CAUSE GUESS WHAT, I AIN’T GAY! SURPRISE!!”

[ME]  “Ha Ha, you told that motherfucker!” 

[RAWBEE] “Shit, I wish you were with me on Saturday night.  I had this one dude’s dick down my throat all the way to my tonsils.  I mean, I was starting to lose consciousness due to lack of oxygen.  Then I gagged, pulled his cock out, and threw up all over his sneakers.  Right after that I looked up at him, laughed, and said, I BET YOU THINK I’M LOOKING UP AT YOU CAUSE I’M GONNA SAY SOMETHING SEXY RIGHT? WELL, GUESS AGAIN! CAUSE THIS GUY AIN’T QUEER!”

[ME]  “Oh Shit bro, you actually said that shit?! That’s awesome! Ha Ha! You’re SO not gay and that dumbass probably didn’t even realize it!”

[RAWBEE] “I know right?  What a dumbass! Dude, it’s ridiculous how UN-GAY we are.”

[ME]  “You’re right about that brotha, let’s go to the REAL club tonight and bang some hot chicks!”

[RAWBEE] “Hell yeah bro!” 

LIFEGUARD HIERARCHY

When it comes to lifeguards in this world, I have found that there is a hierarchy.  You have the Baywatch California lifeguards who are hand selected, go through rigorous testing, and are professional and vigilant.  Then you go down the food chain a little bit to the YMCA pool lifeguard who is still fairly professional, requires a good swimming ability, is semiannually tested in basic water safety as well as CPR and basic life saving of some sort.  After that is the local neighborhood outdoor pool lifeguard.  This may be an actual full time employee position or just a local high school/ college kid summer job.  Minimal training in basic CPR and pseudo swimming ability is all that is really required.  They may or may not be in the best of shape, as this is not a primary job of theirs, and professionalism is dependent on their (GAFF) “Give A Fuck Factor”.   If they GAF then that’s good; if they don’t GAF, who’s gonna call them on it? 

Then you have THIS GUY…. whom I noticed today.  This is the bottom feeder; the tape worm; the primordial ooze of the lifeguard hierarchy.  The Motel outdoor pool lifeguard.  This guy was a real winner.  I saw him and had to stop my car, pull over, roll down the window, turn off the radio and devote my full attention to understand him.  He was magnificent.  Overly tanned, good sized gut but not necessarily fat just, portly, I guess is a good word.  He had “taught fat”.  If you don’t know what that is, then next time you’re naked in front of the mirror jump up and down; anything that flops like a pancake or keeps jiggling when you stop is NOT taught fat.  Taught fat feels and acts like the hard casing on a Honey Ham; its fat just not flabby fat.  Anyways, you fuckers got me on a tangent explaining taught fat; back to the Motel Pool lifeguard.   So, standard red lifeguard shorts, he ACTUALLY had the white sun tan lotion just on the nose (I shit you not), and he was sifting the dead leaves, bugs, cats, and other foreign objects out of the 15 FT by 8 FT pool with that netted pole sifter thing.  Now this is at 1130 in the morning on a Sunday.  No one’s gonna be in that fucking pool, guy!  Who are you planning on guarding that a sign that says “No life guard on duty, be careful” couldn’t take care of?  No one is the answer.  He was sifting that pool for himself, to quench his honey ham gut after a long afternoon of getting even more unnecessarily tanned.   This guy had the most meaningless of the lifeguard species’ jobs.  Was he gonna watch anybody; save anybody's life; keep someone from drowning in the 3 feet of motel pool water?  What can I say…  I was in awe of the bronzed Buddha, so, of course, I immediately reserved next weekend at that Motel  and will soon enough get to experience the uniqueness of this guy, myself; this lowest life form on the aquatic life savers totem pole….the Motel pool lifeguard.