Preface

I’ve always been a writer. I don’t know where that comes from. I don’t do it for the fame and fortune. I do it because…well…I love to write. When I was in college I wrote a short story called ‘My Pegasus’ that caught the attention of the English teacher. It was about a horse I used to pass on my way to school. She liked it so much she read my story to the class. She said I had a way with words. Later when I learned how to play the guitar I began to write songs. I like country music and old school rock ‘n roll. I swear I don’t know what compels me. Sometimes I struggle to find just the right words. Other times the words flow through me as if some magical force is feeding me the lines.

Just so you know, I’m from south Florida. I come from a long line of rednecks. We speak slow, with a southern drawl. Where I come from men and women have very distinctive ‘roles’. We used to  camp on the Peace River. The men would fish and hunt for wild hogs. The women would tend to the kids and set up camp. At night we’d all sit around and drink vodka with fresh  squeezed grapefruit juice. Somebody would usually pull out a guitar and we’d all sing.

One day I picked up a guitar and I wrote a song called ‘Swamp Angel’. It was inspired by a rumor. My grandmother’s sister, by now very elderly, was convinced that the reason the men could stay on the river for days on end in the Florida heat, camping in what amounted to a swamp, amidst snakes and gators, was because of the swamp angel, a voluptuous and beautiful ghost of a woman who haunted the river looking for love and manifesting herself to unsuspecting campers by appearing in their tent and slipping into their sleeping bag.  To this day when I go home people want to hear that song. I realized I had a talent for putting words to music. It was from that point in time,  I guess you could say, I became obsessed with songwritin’ and when a man has an obsession everything else takes a back seat.

Sometimes a man can turn his obsession into gold….most times he can’t. I learned along the way that my obsession was to ‘write’. It didn’t matter if I was writing songs, short stories, poetry, a novel, a play or a fuckin’ letter…I love to write. I wish I would have realized that a little earlier in my life. I mean, I always kind of knew it, but it took me a long time to surrender to it. I was afraid to take a risk. I guess I thought being a writer wasn’t ‘manly’ enough for a redneck like me so I kind of stumbled around for a few years trying to figure out where I fit in. Let’s just say I had some issues.

I was raised in a house full of estrogen so I’m kind of an authority when it comes to women. I have a mother, three sisters, two ex-wives, a full-grown daughter, two grand-daughters, three ex-sister-in-laws, four nieces, too many female cousins to count and  dozens of girlfriends. Oh…I’m sorry…did you think I was coming on to you?  I wasn’t. I’m gay. I’ve always been gay. At first I thought I could change’. After all, I grew up in a very strict religious home.  I was afraid to be gay. I thought I would lose my friends and family, be made fun of, beat up…maybe even killed! I thought I would burn in hell for sure if I were gay. You thought I was straight, didn’t you beotch? I need to show you how to develop your ‘gaydar’ girlfriend.  I love women, I just don’t want to sleep with them. It took me a long time to figure that out.

I don’t ‘look’ or ‘act’ gay. There are a lot of gay men who don’t look or act gay. That’s a Hollywood stereotype. Some men are obviously gay and having sex with a woman disgusts them. They talk with a lisp and walk like girls. You can pick them out of a crowd. They’re loud and proud. Others aren’t so easy. They are average men…truck drivers, cowboys, firemen, construction workers and rednecks like me. They are husbands, boyfriends, fathers and brothers. They’re on the ‘down-low’. They can be fully functional with a woman, but occasionally, they need to be with a man. Maybe they don’t want to be labeled’, maybe they’re in ‘denial’ or maybe they think they can ‘change’. They can’t.

A lot of Christians believe people ‘choose’ to be gay and that it’s a ‘sin’. That’s why   churches are full of gay men trying to change. You need to be careful you don’t fall in love with one. We’re great best friends but we make lousy husbands. Never let a man ‘use’ you to try to change and never think that you can make a gay man ‘straight‘….you can’t.

I guess marrying a gay man isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you. You could end up with an ‘abuser’. An abuser will fuck you up girlfriend. Ask Mary Winkler. She married a preacher and lived in Tennessee. On the outside it looked like she had it all, a handsome husband, three beautiful girls, a nice house. But their perfect little marriage held some dark secrets. He was forcing her to do things that were outside her comfort zone. In the bedroom he’d make her wear stiletto heels and act like a slut. That might sound like fun to you, but playing ‘Jezebel’ in a bedroom production of ‘Sluts From the Old Testament’  didn’t sit too well with Mary Winkler.

He had been abusing her for years. That man criticized her for everything. The way she walked, the way she talked, even the way she ate. The night she killed him they’d been arguing about money. After he went to bed she went to the closet,  got the shotgun, loaded it and shot that man in the back. Mary Winkler snapped…and killed his freaky ass.

Let’s face it, men can be vile. I’m going to show you how to find a man with ‘character’…and how to spot a ‘pig’, but I have to warn you girlfriend, I tell it like it is and I do not sugarcoat it so don’t lay any guilt trips on me if I use the “F” word.

You so need a friend like me. Look…I’m no Dr. Phil, but I do have good common sense and that’s something you just don’t learn in school. In today’s market you need to be streetwise. I’m going to show you how to add  ‘curb appeal’ and ‘market’ your little gold mine so you can find a man with character. I’m going to tell you how a man thinks, what makes him tick and what he does behind closed doors in the privacy of his man cave.

You may think you don’t need my advice and if that’s the case…it’s all good. I don’t judge. But didn’t I see you last weekend down on Main Street in your ‘daisy dukes’…bent over a pool table? You are never going find yourself a man with ‘character’ in that two-bit tavern.

Look…first let’s talk about ‘you‘ and then we’ll talk about ‘him‘. You might want to put on a pot of coffee, this could take a while. You look like you have a lot to learn. By the way, you could start with an ‘attitude’ adjustment. You do come off a little bitchy girlfriend. If you are ever going to find a man…you need to be ‘approachable’.

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