So a while ago, Alex told his ex-stepbrother (who is straight) that I write gay porn about hockey players. Which really doesn't bother me in and of itself, except that he said he would go read it. So I asked Alex whether he'd given him the whole story about the, you know, explicit gay sex, and he seemed confident that he'd conveyed that. So apparently, the guy went and read, not just one, but four stories, and read the NC-17 ones.
My question is why? Why would you subject yourself to that? Like, I have warnings and ratings and stuff, and he just went ahead and read them anyway. Anyway, according to Chip, his reaction was increasing degrees of shock as he read and more things were touched and done, and his final words? "She has ... has some ideas."
It's going to be a funny encounter the next time I see him.
So one day, Chip and I were buying lunch, and more or less completely unprovoked, he comes up with the image of Hatcher in rainbow-colored underpants and shares this with me. The thing is that the horror wore off for me much faster than it did for him, and the image returns to haunt him at inopportune times. For example, before we go to sleep. And again, he shares.
I asked him what it would take to stop thinking about it, and his solution is ... to wear rainbow-colored pants himself! Then he goes on about how he wonders whether you can even buy rainbow-colored underpants, and if you could, we're certainly in the right city (San Francisco) to find them! He also thinks that Macy's should have a Gay Men's Department, so that he could find said underpants.
I asked him how wearing rainbow-colored underpants would help him, and this stumped him briefly. His conclusion was that it might be cathartic. Then he asked if I would wear rainbow-colored underpants with him.
Thanks to all of this talk, I dreamt about Hatcher last night! *shakes fist* Luckily, I think he was just smiling while his kid used him as a jungle gym (Thanks, Bernie!) and not some other horrific, uhh ... *doesn't think about it*