Tuesday, January 7, 2014

What If…

Everyone knows the story of Frosty the Snowman and how a magic silk hat brought him to life. But what if...
Greg had been busy all day long trying to build a snowman. He had no idea how to build a proper snowman so despite his best efforts, the snowman turned out looking more like a frumpy fat guy that had eaten too much turkey at Thanksgiving. Greg sighed as he looked at his creation. Well, maybe something else would help spruce the old guy up. As a very successful twenty-six year old entrepreneur he had been able to sell his business and retire to the sleepy little hamlet where he bought and refurbished a rundown apartment building, changing it into a magnificent residence where he now dwelt. He remembered seeing some fancy togs in a trunk he found in the attic. He hadn’t thought anything about it at the time but luckily he had kept the trunk and thought he might find something to finish off his sad creation. Rummaging through the trunk he came across a discarded top hat, something that you might see a carnival magician wearing to perform the old “pull a rabbit out of a hat” trick. It didn't look in too bad of a condition so Greg thought it might add a nice touch to the snowman.

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He placed the hat on top of his snowman and was inspecting the results when a gust of wind lifted the hat from the snowman and deposited it on Greg’s head. When he went to remove the hat he found he couldn't move. He felt a strange tingle course through his body. He could feel his body changing, becoming shorter until he stood face to face with the snowman. He could do nothing but stand horrified as his snowman transformed into an exact replica of his own body including his clothes. Suddenly his whole body started to feel very heavy, like he was some oversized Sumo wrestler, as his mind began to get numb. Soon he was in a deep dreamless sleep. His clothing disappeared, his flesh turning to pure white snow. His body was being altered rapidly. In a matter of a few seconds he had been transmuted from a prime stud into his snowman.

Cal came down the road heading for his buddy’s house. They were going to hang out, maybe play video games or just cause some mischief. He was a good looking sixteen year old, tall and well-built for his age, smart but lazy and unmotivated to make anything of himself. Dressed to stave off the cold in a leather jacket, jeans, and motorcycle boots, he was the epitome of the tough cool teen. There was some half-naked dude standing silently by a hilarious looking snowman. What kind of crazy loon stands around outside dressed like that in weather like this?

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Seanday Lunch: The Notebook. Pt3

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

I sat back and chugged another beer, the rest of the guys were rough housing and bitching about Dakota Tec: the team we were playing tomorrow.

I shared the dorm with two others; we had our own bedrooms, but shared a common living area and a kitchen. We'd been joined by Tony Norberg and Ryan Schmitz from next door for a guy’s night.

"Those pussies don't have a chance in hell, not with our number of wins. Isn't that right Bechtel?" Norberg yelled high fiving Schmitz; the room was thick with testosterone.

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Finishing my beer I looked over at Bechtel--one of my roommates--who was grinning inanely in the #53 team shirt. "Throw me another beer Tony, this fucker’s empty," I yelled. Norberg grabbed one from the chiller and threw it across the room. I caught it and cracked the cap off on the edge of the table. "Thanks," I grunted sinking lower into the chair taking another chug.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Caption This (4th Jan)

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!
(note: administrators reserve the right to delete what they consider inappropriate pictures in any comments)
**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**
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1.
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2.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Seanday Bonus: Cross Trainers

I sat down to take a break and grab water. It had been a shit day; it was cardio and was dead boring. Most of the day’s clients were new starters--just like every New Year.

"So how's it going Kurt?" I asked my workmate as he dropped heavily onto the bench next to me.

"Fucking awesome," he replied in a sarcastic tone.

"Huh, can't be any worse than these newbie’s I'm showing around."

He didn't reply, just scratched his head. I glanced sideways as his impressive bicep swelled.

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I offered Kurt a bottle of water, and he thanked me with a nod. "It's been a long day," he muttered under his breath.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

A New Year, A New Family

I was sitting on a park bench watching fathers playing with their sons. Some were playing catch while others were sitting quietly together reading stories. I had always planned to get married and raise a family but fate had degreed differently for me. Now almost sixty and very set in my ways, I doubted that I would ever know the joy of loving someone unconditionally and having that love returned, both in a mate and in a child.

It started to get dark so I got up from my seat and headed back to my home. I had done well for myself over the years. Granted I was not a wealthy individual but I managed to live quite comfortably, albeit alone and sometimes rather lonely. I ate a modest dinner and decided to go to bed early. It was New Year’s Eve but there was no big celebration for me. I said my prayers making sure to be thankful for all I had and secretly wishing I had a family to be with in the New Year. I sighed and laid myself down to get some rest. Tomorrow was another day.

Seanday Bonus: Business of Exchange

New Years Eve again, I thought to myself as I took the subway home. Glancing at my reflection in the window--Matt Brubaker, you've come a long way.

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The boss had been running me ragged over the past couple of days and I'd been getting home later each time. I'd not had a chance to think about going out to celebrate, but then I didn't really need to.

Monday, December 30, 2013

Seanday Bonus: Being Terry

I looked over at my mom and frowned. "My brother's a jerk, I'm not going to do it," I moaned.

Terry shoved me, and I fell onto the bed. "I don't want any help from the dweeb," he retorted.

My mom looked between the two of us. "You're brothers, start acting like your related. Terry, you've got that final test, and you want to go skiing with your friends?" My mom snapped at us. Terry nodded.

"And James," she looked at me. "You're the smarter of the two. You've already been skipped ahead a year help your brother out and pass that test then he can go skiing."

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I grinned. "Yeah smarter that two of you dumb ass. Wait, you're going skiing?" I shoved Terry, but he hardly moved. "You never said anything about that," I growled.

"No dweebs sorry bro'," he chuckled.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Seanday Lunch: The Notebook – pt.2

Read part 1 here

I had no idea who the professor had disguised himself as, or why.

But casually looking over the information on the cork board I knew he had to be a popular kid, and he was following a theme.

I snorted at the thought that went through my mind. Go back to college as one of these guys, he was bound to recognise the suit and make contact. I shook my head. I'd worked undercover before, but nothing like this.

Pulling the notes and pictures from the cork board, I sat down and studied the details for each of the guys.

Marshall was a nerdy hipster, a popular guy that seems to fit in with everyone: he also helped out the jocks on the football team with their studies. But there's a problem; he went missing a while if Marshall just turns up again he'd certainly be taken away to be debriefed by someone. That wouldn't help my search for the Professor.

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I looked over Luke Baulks’ details: A jock, a football lineman. He wasn't the brightest in the team and needed help with his studies. I sucked on my lip; this is possibly where the Professor--looking like Marshall--captured Luke only four days ago. Tipping back in the chair, I pondered that for a moment. Why did the Professor find an identity so quickly after acquiring Luke? Flipping through the notes didn't suggest any reasons either.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Caption This (28th Dec)

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!
(note: administrators reserve the right to delete what they consider inappropriate pictures in any comments)
**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**
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1.
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2.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Season's Greetings

Happy Holidays

from all the staff at Male Transformation Blog

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Have a great break, and a Happy New Year!

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Seanday Lunch: The Notebook – pt.1

"This just arrived for you," Alice said throwing the parcel in my lap.

I gasped when it landed and bit my lip. "Thanks girl," I muttered and she sneered slamming the office door.

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It was fruitless, my badge had been revoked, my career as a Private Investigator was about to end. Of course, I had to let Alice go, and today was her final day. It explained the bitterness she was showing me.

My last job threw up a bizarre trail leading back to a remote house owned by a college professor. I'd only seen pictures of him: wizened, but he had a mischievous sparkle in his eye. He'd worked at the college in town, where a couple of students had gone missing, and the breadcrumbs had led to his house. The professor disappeared soon after. The client had gone to ground as well leaving me unpaid, so I'd decided to keep the house as payment. It was a quirky little thing, just a couple of bedrooms, but always looked as if it should be bigger on the inside.

Rolling the cigar around my mouth, I topped up the whisky in my glass--it helped me think--as I turned my attention to the package.

It was wrapped in plain paper, tied with a red twine. I drew the knife from my boot, and snicked it's bindings, planting the blade in the table top. Inside: a simple notebook, there was nothing else. I flipped through the empty pages and two crisp $100 bills dropped to the table.