TURNED GAY BY THE EXISTENTIAL DREAD THAT I MAY ACTUALLY BE A CHARACTER IN A CHUCK TINGLE BOOK
By Chuck Tingle
Learning is great and, at the end of the day, the pursuit of knowledge is something that makes us all human. In a grand, cosmic sense, our own sentience and desire to learn is the most beautiful creation of the known universe.
What are the chances that all of this space dust floating around and exploding at random could eventually, given a billion or so years to sit around, become full of thought and life. That these rocks and meteors could one day become something out of nothing, single cells organisms that evolved into tiny micros and then early fish, lizards, birds, mammals and so on. Now we have the means to pursue knowledge, taking evolution into our own hands for the first time in the history of life on Earth.
As a fan of erotic author Chuck Tingle, I suppose this is why I’ve never found his stories to be as ridiculous as my friends did.
Who is to say that the universe couldn’t have ended up full of gay butts? So what if the airplane can talk?
Long, long ago, there was a moment when a tiny spec of nothingness became something, where life blossomed in a place that it had never been before. I’m not going to comment on why this happened, but we all know that at some point it did. This begin said, is it really so crazy to think it could happen to an entire plane?
Again, that’s the great thing about learning. This is a wild philosophy that I’ve created on my own and shared with my friends, who can take it or leave it. If they take it, then my knowledge on the subject of evolution and astrophysics has been contagious, and I can’t think of anything more beautiful than that.
But now we’ve come to the heart of the matter, the terrible, hidden tragedy of knowledge that few people even consider until it’s too late. There are some things you just can’t unlearn. This lesson comes to me in the form of short story by one of my favorite writers, Chuck Tingle.
As I said before, I’m a huge fan of Chuck’s work, although I am dubious about the idea that he is a real man out there in Billings, pounding away at the typewriter to create a seemingly endless supply of gay erotica. I’m not gay, myself, but I read it for the laughs, and it’s sometimes hard for me to believe that anyone could truly get off to Chuck’s typical sexual staples; chiefly dinosaurs, unicorns and bigfeet.
Then again, there are thirteen billion people out there in the world. If you can think of it, then there’s bound to be someone turned on by it.
My fandom of Chuck was all well and good until one day everything changed, because one day the words of this brilliant Montana man taught me a lesson that I just wasn’t ready for.
I’ve just left town with my wife, Carrie, for a short weekend trip down the coast to San Diego. We both work in online marketing and our eyes and brains are fried from the constant glow of laptop screens. This weekend is supposed to be a break from all that, a chance to recharge by the beach just a few hours south of Los Angeles, and so far so good. I’m not even checking my phone as I relax in the passenger seat, staring out the window while the traffic slowly dissipates into brilliant swaths of lush palms on either side of the freeway.
I take in a long breath and then let it out slowly, hoping all of my anxieties from the workweek will drift away with it.
“Where are we staying again?” my wife asks. “Sandy Point Suites?”
“I think so,” I tell her, “you want me to start mapping it?”
“We’re getting close,” Carrie says with a nod. “Go for it.”
I pull out my phone and open my E-mail, checking to make sure that I’ve got the name of our destination correct. I do, but I also can’t help noticing another unopened message that sits patiently waiting for my attention.
‘Have you seen the new book from Chuck Tingle?’ the title reads. It’s from a friend back at work.
“What’s that?” Carries questions, glancing over. “New Chuck book?”
I nod. “Keep your eyes on the road,” I tell her, only half joking.
Both of us are huge fans of the author, and often find ourselves doubling over with laughter at the erotic audacity of his titles alone. We trade pictures of his covers back and forth at work, trying to out do each other with every progressive gay literary masterpiece.
“Well, read it!” Carrie offers.
“The message, or the book?” I question.
“The book,” my wife continues, “we’ve got another hour or so before we get to the hotel, I bet you can power through it. Then you can tell me what happens!”
I laugh. “I thought this was going to be a technology free week!”
“Well, I’m curious now, Brad” my wife explains.
I consider this a moment, then eventually pull out my phone and open the E-mail. Just as I thought, it’s a link to Chuck’s latest work of brilliance, which I promptly download and dive right into.
Of course, an hour might not seem like long enough to devour an entire novel, but Chuck’s work is short and sweet, right to the explicit point.
This novel is titled Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Book ‘Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt”’” and it is essentially a Russian nesting doll of gay anal pounding. The story is about a knight and a wizard battling it out with one another, commanding armies of hunky Chuck Tingle characters, but it quickly turns quite meta when the author himself is written into the story. This is Chuck Tingle at his best, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the read until
