Another day o’ writing! Doo bee doo bee doo…I sit at my desk, crack my knuckles, and open the ol’ mind-hole, signaling that my brain is open for business. Any muse that wants to drop in, go ahead—drench my face-neck-and-chest with your imaginal seed, come thru with the ideas and bomb-ass scenes!
Unfortunately, nothing pops up. Goddamn muses are asleep on the job, prolly three knuckles deep in their gapped-out orifices. Whatever. There’s plenty of stuff to keep me occupied. Yahoo, Reddit, YouTube…suddenly, my screen blinks and fritzes, then hits me with countless windows playing high-def milf-porn. If this were a movie, the camera would zoom onto my eye, reflecting an abundance of soccer moms on my iris and pupil. Before I know it, my wiener’s untucked from my sock, uncoiled from my thigh, and found its way into my hairy-palmed hands.
“Stop!” I gasp. “Stop, goddammit!” It’s no use—my body’s gone haywire. My phalanges launch into a pepper-shaker twist, switch to a down-sliding hand-over-hand, then up the ante with a jackrabbit stroke, combined with an old-school high-tempo sack-juggle.
Onscreen, a cluster of windows give way to Grammar Nazi Prime. “Ha! Your penchant for soccer moms is known far and wide—it was child’s play to weaponize it into a trap!” His jawline-devoid face stretches into a grin. “Soon, you’ll be drained of fluids and perish from dehydration. But before you die, you’re going to beat your dick until it’s medium-rare!”
Fuck. FUCK. Yes, I enjoy writing, but Man-Whoring pays the goddamn bills—there’s no way my clients will accept a medium-rare wiener. So through sheer force of will, I rip an arm free of my brutal jerk-session and open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
An interdimensional portal forms around my glans; they disappear into its locus and reappear behind Grammar Nazi Prime. Onscreen, I see him swivel in his chair, flinching in horror as a connective portal opens behind him with the head of my penis poking out from its center.
“No!” He bursts from his chair and sprints for the door. My dickhead tracks him with unerring precision, then cuts loose with a flood of gametes. Spuh-LOOSH! “Dear God in heaven, it smells like asparagus and week-old death—IT HURTS MY WILL TO LIVE!!!” The stream pins him against the wall, deluging him with torrents of semen-powered force. As he curls into a protective fetal position, he manages to scream, “Damn you Kent Wayne! I’ll get my revenge, you hear me??? I’ll get my—ACK! PHBBT!!”
All up in ya’ face-neck-and-chest, you measly piece of red-inking shit! Kent Wayne wins again! HEH heh heh!
😀
Has a grammar-worshipping fanatic hit you with a porn-trap and tried to saddle you with medium-rare genitals? Never fear! Buy my books, whip up a pair of interdimensional portals, and proceed to drown him in your stinkiest juices!
Get A Door into Evermoor here: A Door into Evermoor. Get Weapons of Old here: Weapons of Old Get Kor’Thank here: Kor’Thank: Barbarian Valley Girl. Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle Vol.4 on Kindle here: Vol. 4 on Kindle Echo Omnibus here: Echo Omnibus Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition Musings, Volume 1 is available here: Musings, Volume 1 Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human: Optimization!

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