Caption This (31st Jan)

NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Service Announcement

Just to let you know the 'Recent Comments' have returned to the right hand column—requested by writer91. It's true, you should keep an eye on it for any new stories in the comments or indeed comments in some of the older stories.

Just for a bit of fun, I've also added a chat room on the right hand side. It's a bit cramped, but if you click on one of the avatars it'll open up a new page. Like most things on the blog, there's a guest login to remain anonymous.

To A Tee

Teddy and his older brother Tommy seemed to have been born with "Kick Me" signs on their backs.

Short, anemic kids focused on science, literature, and chess instead of sports, girls, and getting high, Tommy and Teddy's very existence seemed to offend the popular jocks. Neither of the brothers could ever understand what these muscleheads thought they were proving by delivering bruising punches to the brothers' arms when they passed in the hallway or administering frequent swirlies in the boys' rest room. The jock's physical superiority was obvious to anyone with eyes, yet they still resented the brothers' intelligence so much that Teddy and Tommy were subjected to constant abuse.

But since Tommy had headed off to college, he had undergone an amazing transformation. When he returned home for Thanksgiving that first semester, he had sprouted five whole inches and put on thirty pounds of muscle. His face had lost its remaining baby fat, from which a sharply masculine bone structure had emerged. He radiated thoughtful maturity and requested that everyone in the family start calling him Tom.

Seanday Rush: Cross (and Fit)

"God damn it!" I yelled as I scrambled to my feet rubbing my head. I felt around in the darkness, and found a door--it was locked. I tried to recall what had happened; I was in the locker room. The other competitors had left for the arena. I'd heard a noise and then--I winced again, somebody had hit me from behind.

I tried the door again, and put my weight against it, and it burst open. I staggered out blinking in the bright light. "What the fuck," was all I could say when I saw the reflection of naked skinny guy in the mirrors opposite.

Racing to the locker I grabbed some shorts and vest, they hung from my unfamiliar lean frame. "What the fuck," I said again not quite believing what I was seeing.

A cheer came from the arena, and I headed outside. It was the Crossfit Games, I had made it through the semi's and into the finals in the morning. I should be out there!

Then I heard it, "... and Ryan Jackson is making amazing time, he's passed Collins and is in first place. This could be a gold for the newcomer," the commentator yelled excitedly.

Ryan Jackson? That was me! I was Ryan. I craned my neck to try and see, and there I was. Number 054, he was thick strong and tall. I watched with my mouth open as he launching himself over the wall expertly landing, then sprinting to the finish.

"Gold! And he's won the gold!"

Caption This (24th Jan)

NEW STORIES IN COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Punked

Rick Asher strode confidently down the sidewalk, treating it like his own private fashion runway in his tailored chocolate-brown Gucci suit. Without even being aware of it, he constantly checked his reflection in the windows of the parked cars he passed, admiring his handsome visage and perfectly-combed short brown hair.

Seeing a taxi heading his direction, he pivoted quickly and dashed toward the curb, immediately plowing into someone whose presence he hadn't previously noticed. Rick toppled backwards, the back of his skull bouncing off the cement sidewalk, his briefcase popping open and spilling its contents. Dizzy, Rick boosted himself up on his elbows and looked past his Prada loafers to the man lying in the street. The taxi driver slammed on his brakes, saying a prayer in his native tongue, and the front right tire of the cab came to a halt pressed gently against the cheek of the man sprawled on the asphalt. The stench of burnt rubber wafted in the air.

Caption This (17th Jan)

**MORE** NEW STORIES IN COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Caption This (10th Jan)

**MORE** NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Farm-Grown

by Cris Kane

"I've decided that you're gonna spend this summer working on your great-uncle's farm!"


The way Dad said it, I guess I was supposed to think it was some great reward, not a prison sentence. I was not exactly your farm-boy outdoorsy type. Puberty had come and gone, leaving me a spindly asthmatic seventeen-year-old who had topped out at five-foot-seven and still had a goddamn baby face. Mom still bought my clothes in the friggin' boys' department at Walmart, for god's sake.


"Do I look like I'm built for doing chores?", I asked Dad, extending my scrawny arms to emphasize the point. It was one of life's mysteries how a tall and hardy guy like my dad could produce a puny kid like me. If we hadn't shared the same blond hair and dark eyes, I'd have been sure I was adopted or switched at birth...or maybe that my spaceship had crash-landed in the backyard and Mom and Dad had decided to raise me as their son.


"Trust me, son, you're gonna love it," Dad said with enthusiasm that I found dubious. "The summers I spent at Uncle Cyrus's made a man out of me.”



In the weeks that followed, I kept making alternative proposals for what to do with my summer, but Dad would have none of it. On June first, my folks loaded me onto a bus for the 36-hour ride to Texas. I walled myself off from the other riders, popping in my headphones and escaping into my music until the battery wore out.




Step by Step

This is Brad in a picture he posted when he was running for senior class president.  He is the hottest and most popular jock in school and I’m absolutely in love with him or should I say I am absolutely in love with his body and wish it were mine? Unfortunately one person can’t become another, no matter how much a person wants that to happen. Ah but I look at Brad and all I can do is wish so hard… so hard I had that body.

One day I am walking down the hall and not really looking out where I am going when I bump into Brad. My heart nearly stops when my eyes look upon that perfect model of young maleness and all I can do is hope that he doesn’t notice how bothered I am getting.

Secret Dreams

Jeremy had a secret. At almost 16 his fondest wish was to be like Liam Hemsworth. Liam was tall, handsome, and most of all had a family that loved him. Jeremy had none of those. He was short for his age and got bullied at school all the time. Handsome? Ha! That was never going to happen with his acne-scarred face and fat features. And as for family, his foster parents could care less about him and more about the money the state paid them every month. They already told him he would be out the door once the money stopped on his 18^th birthday. They weren’t going to support “no freeloader” under their roof. Their kids were no better. They treated Jeremy like a second-class citizen; teasing him and making him do all their chores.

Two things only one other person knew about Jeremy: he had a very giving heart with a lot of love to give to anybody that wanted it and he was actually very smart but wouldn’t excel in academics for fear of being bullied all the more. One thing he did not do: he would not feel sorry for himself. Self-pity was not for him. So alone in his room he wrapped himself in his dreams, dreams that one day someone would love him.

Caption This (3rd Jan)

NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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