Thursday, December 18, 2014

In Which I'm Visited By Three Spirits (dick pics pt. 2)

The first ghost that visited was a disgraced US congressman, humiliated, ruined, laughed out of Washington after a simple misunderstanding of how Twitter worked led to his sharing much more with his constituents than he’d ever intended.

The second, the ghost of Chat Roulette, and with it the potential to bring millions together, to create a community and bring the world to your home, potential swiftly reduced to a simple punch line about sudden, shocking exhibitionism.

The third, the future, was less clear. Was it a genuine watershed of body positivity, mankind coming together to celebrate its form in all its beauty? Or merely the exploitation by a mass media bent only on profiting off humankind’s animal instincts? I couldn’t be sure, but one thing was clear: The future had come, and it was naked.

I awoke from my dream and threw open my window, screaming down into the street, demanding a passing orphan tell me what day it was, if there was still time, if Christmas had yet come.

Upon hearing that it had not, I nearly wept with gratitude. But I did not weep, I maintained my composure, because Christmas was upon me and I still had much to do.

Shopping to get to.

Gift-wrap to buy.

Genitals to photograph.

Text-messages to send.

I had too long taken the holiday season for granted, but no more. Thanks to that late-night visit from the Ghosts of Dick Pics Past, Present and Future, I was in the proper spirit, and I finally understood the true meaning of inappropriate late-night text messages to friends and acquaintances. And, while once I might have scoffed at the notion of sending such photos to people who had not asked for them, nor given any indication such a thing would interest them in the slightest, I wasn’t going to let another moment go by without sharing myself with the people who were nearest me in the most intimate way that I could.

Christmas is, after all, the season of giving.

God bless us, every one…

Monday, December 15, 2014

Weekly Prompt Story: Patient

By Christopher Munroe

I’ll wait for you, love, for as long as it takes. Because you matter to me, more than I can possibly say, and when somebody matters to you you’re willing to give them all the time they might possibly need…



Are you ready?


That’s totally okay, I respect your need for time, for space, and I’ll wait as long as it takes. Until the end of time, if need be. Because you, my love, are worth the wait.


How ‘bout now?





I’m willing to wait.

I have the patience of a saint…

Thursday, December 11, 2014

My Christmas Shopping

Money’s tight this holiday season. Things are tough all over, and I’ve been no exception. It’s made my Christmas shopping difficult, to say the least.

So, bearing this in mind, this year everybody’s getting dick pics.

Dick pics are still a thing, right? Like, they’re still an appropriate gift? For Christmas?

No need to answer, I’ll just assume they are.


Anyway, dick pics it shall be. Though for obvious reasons I shan’t be doing anything so prosaic as sending them via text or email. It’s Christmas, after all, and I do love to celebrate the holidays.

I’ve booked a photo shoot with a professional photographer to make sure I have the absolute perfect portrait of my genitals, and I’ll be printing eight-by-tens for each of you, which I plan on delivering in person, each in a sterling silver frame, that you might forever remember my cock and display it proudly in your various homes.

Because I value you, as friends, I care about you. Each and every one of you. And when you care about somebody you want to share the things you love with them.

And I love my dick, you guys. I love it so much and I want so badly to share it with you, even if it’s only in pictorial form…

Some of you will point out that this project, by the time I’m finished, will be much more expensive than buying the people on my shopping list actual gifts in the first place.

I know.

No need to thank me. It is Christmas, after all…

Merry dick pics for all, and for all a good night!

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Weekly Prompt Story: Shoe

By Christopher Munroe

I’m never more nervous than when things go well.

I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which isn’t healthy, it isn’t normal, I know it isn’t, and it robs me of my ability to enjoy the good things, and there are plenty of good things in my life!

I can’t help it, it’s just who I am.

Even my victories I find myself unable to enjoy…

For example, if all went well, by the time you hear this I’ll be done my NaNoWriMo draft.

And yet, as of writing this, I’m kind of still freaked out about it…

Thursday, December 4, 2014

...on business.

I knew that people online would get on board, that was never really in doubt.

It was whether that online interest would translate into actual sales, always a shaky proposition, that worried me. Let us not forget “Snakes on a Plane” after all.

But my worry, it turned out, was misplaced.

And now, a four million dollar house, new Ferrari and month in Vegas later, the only worry I have is what I’m going to do with the seemingly endless flood of cash that’s still coming in…

I feel some small measure of guilt, perhaps, at the increase in heart disease and obesity that I’m no doubt partially responsible for, but I can’t feel too bad about that. People do make their own decisions, after all.

I merely provided new options, I never forced anyone to do anything.

If people can’t control their baser appetites, that’s no responsibility of mine.

At the end of the day, I’m merely a businessman.

And, it turns out, Pumpkin-Spiced Bacon was the best business decision I ever made…

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Weekly Prompt Story: Cranberries

Assumptions Based on the Prompt “Cranberries”
By Christopher Munroe

American Thanksgiving!


I assume that’s what the prompt means.

I don’t understand how American holidays are structured, honestly. Our thanksgiving is your Columbus Day? I think?

Your football’s different than ours too, and it’s nearly impossible to get a proper Ceaser down there…

…and don’t get me started on baseball. If you want to watch a sport where a thing gets hit with a stick, watch hockey like normal people!

Ah well, at least your “hit-thing-with-stick” sport isn’t Cricket. I have zero idea how Cricket works…

But I digress.

My point is, it’s American Thanksgiving! Probably!

So: Thanks, Americans!

Friday, November 28, 2014


Desperation sets in the moment he realizes there’s no way out of the room, and his eyes go wide.

He’s already verified that the door, locked tightly from the other side, is too thick to batter down, and the room’s lack of windows or features of any sort makes it impossible to even consider other methods of escape. The floor is concrete, the ceiling equally so, the walls solid brick once he chips away enough of the plaster to see them. He doesn’t know how he got into the room, but he knows he’ll never leave, under his own power, at least.

And so: In sets Desperation.

Within minutes he’s screaming, within hours his fists have been torn bloody as they pound upon the walls, his voice hoarse as he calls, then threatens, then begs for release.

He’ll die of thirst in a matter of days, but by then he’ll most likely be mad, driven so by the combination of hopelessness and confusion that helplessness and lack of answers brings.

He’ll be a shell of a man, in a corner, babbling to himself. Just like all the other subjects I’ve put into this room for observation.

It’s disappointing, in its way.

People speak so highly of the power of the human spirit.

I have yet to observe it first hand…