In the dugout we stomped our feet and gnashed our teeth. The score was eighty-seven to nothing, but if we had to take the field, the tide of misfortune could quickly turn and take us down.
She’s a member of my church and I don’t want her to see me lugging an economy sized box of extra thin, lubricated prophylactics.
It’s time I fessed up and came clean as to why I left the the plains of the Southwest to come to Florida. It has nothing to do with cacti and tumbleweeds versus citrus and palm trees. Nor does it have anything to do with sand in my teeth versus ocean spray in my hair. […]
The waiter slapped his notebook shut, beamed at me in admiration and said, “I LIKE it!” And then looked around the room as if to say, “At last, we have a REAL man among us!”
There are certain things I just can’t do. And kissing another guy in a romantic context is one of those things.
