Poolboy - Tumblr Posts
Chris wanted to know if he was on the deep end of the pool.
Brad and Chris admired their neighbor Luke for so many reasons, but mostly because he was super low maintenance. Mostly.
Brad swore he heard a dog whistle.
Brad’s speedo was once again money. Wasn’t there something he was supposed to loathe about that? Recycled fashion was redundant. Or was it reductive? Damn that Lady Gaga. Her relevance antics kept throwing Brad off. Tea sounded nice. “Yes. Raspberry beret. Thank u.”
Chris didn’t want 2 face anything. Not even the camera until Brad and Chris’ blog was restored.
Oh. What was this behind him?!
That’s when Chris noticed he used REALLY REALLY REALLY expensive lube instead of tanning oil.
F-ME running!!! UGHHH!!!!! Now not the time to get accidentally spendy.
That was an interesting question. While Chris could not speak 4 ALL gays, he could speak as one. Brad chimed in asking if that made Chris ‘A gay” or “The Gay” as 2 the subject @ hand. Chris hypothesized a higher likelihood of the former considering Margaret Cho herself asked the question. Or would that be the latter? Oh now this was confusing. That’s when Brad turned 2 Margaret and said Chris was indeed allergic 2 shirts and so was he. Margaret then suggested changing detergents.
Better @ getting their feet wet
Still pissed off Brad put Viagra in the last batch of popsicles, Chris whipped out the highly controversial pointed finger. B4 he realized his “gay swag” was at the wrong angle, Brad and Chris found themselves banned from the Hot Desert Inndulge 4life. That would normally suck but luckily they each still had another option.
The pool always turned milky when Chris thought of jockstraps or Brad forgot the cereal and the bowl.
Brad appreciated Chris’ suggestion. A hot dog did sound good… Real good! Mmmm.
Brad and Chris couldn’t get over how close they came to wearing the exact same outfit for the BBQ at their neighbor Luke’s.
Snapchat, Insta and TikTok were in a flurry. How could they not be?!? Brad and Chris were one moody green print away from a ‘Who Wore It Best” walk off.
Well, the two managed to pull the whole thing off in the hot tub just after sunset when they saw Luke was already nude. The rest you can probably find on JustFor.
The shade of it all!
Cute pair
Did I leave the back patio door open? Chris thought he felt a breeze from the air conditioning. Hmmmm... maybe not.
Well, this was no fun. Where was Brad with that unicorn?!? Chris needed inflatables and sun oil. He was still pissed Brad accidentally used the spendy lube again. Chris did too, but someone had to take the heat so they drew straws. On the bright side, they got a pretty good bangin session out of it. Luke’s suggestion to participate certainly reduced the waste factor.
Chris stopped himself there. It was still just him and the dental floss from the morning now between his other cheeks. Was it teal or aqua? Chris needed a color wheel. He’d text Brad and ask him to stop by either Michael’s or Homo Depot to pick one up.
Chris was digging the up and down horizontal stripe trend. It just made sense.
Via @speedoguyz
“It wasn’t the most ridiculous thing out there. Far from it.”
Brad then reminded Becky so far, the plan for human survival was a cave full of seeds in Iceland and some bunkers in New Zealand built by paranoid rich people with guns. He then restruck the pose.
“Now, what exactly did Becky have to say about the ‘outfit’ again? You know what, it doesn’t matter as no one needs to compete with zero coordination.”
Brad then turned to face Becky directly. “People go to jail for not having an emergency plan. What’s really messed up is nothing exists at the top level for all of us. Why was the human species as a whole so whacked anyway?”
Becky offered to get the next round of margaritas and motioned for Brad to rejoin his place in the cabana. Chris piped in to make them doubles then asked everyone where they should take that conversation. It was a pool day, the snarky could be tabled.
Brad thought it should go to Boise. Chris thought to shuffle it off to Buffalo citing his own disappointment in it’s obviousness. Becky didn’t know where to put it but thought enough to store it in Namibia. It was dry and sparsely populated so would preserve well.
She then guessed a doomsay plan could pass through countless generations unnoticed and undisturbed like Ring Around the Rosie. The coding on that was a bit whacked as the message did not make the impact it could have given it’s significance and pertinence to current global epidemics.
“It was from the Middle Ages so certainly credit could be given there. Did we need to attach trauma to children? It is safe to say there were no guns pointed at anyone.”
Becky went on to state the plague and assumed apocalypse remained daunting. To clear the way for the rest of their pool day while the larger whole got it’s act together, she suggested a temporary placeholder in lieu of a true master plan for the survival of the human species.
“It would need to be super simple and as close to universal as possible. Maybe a song is a good idea. Could we at least say, ‘Don’t panic.’ or ‘Florida is underwater. Think Nepal, not Naples.’
Becky took a sip of a now nearly toasted margarita.
“Of course, people would freak anyway, especially after discovering there was no master plan. It may though give us a moment of clarity before the madness where one out of 8 billion of us might just come up with a resolution.”
Becky further dove in the point explaining the problem even with her suggestions around all this lies exactly where it does in general, surfacing the best idea.
“The car alarm, censor/chat bots, a war on drugs, phone trees, microbeads in soap, beef hamburgers and the electric chair were lauded as genius at one juncture. The fact is the list is infinite, and we know better now. The more hoopla made over something, the more it felt like there was reason to question it.”
Becky then mentioned all the gimmicks around AI. “We really do not know what we are stepping into or better said, already have. For some time, no regulation existed around any of it. AI also did not automatically keep records in the same capacity as with previous technological advances. This was scary.”
All three were already well aware Brad and Chris’ issues with Tumblr stemmed out of bots and a culture difficult to interpret other than hellbent on efficiency and profit ironically at any cost to its own customers.
In an unrealized interruption, Brad interjected his shock, “I so did not associate the censorship with AI until now. That’s…. OMG. I mean… Look at the damage being done to the gay community alone. I didn’t place it. That hardly makes it any less real or hard hitting.”
Becky assured Brad in his reaction and offered some perspective as to what Brad and Chris faced. “There is not sufficient law, social construct, personal protection or compensation around AI. Overall, corporations and those of resource thus far have chosen censorship, ignorance, and to look out for themselves.”
She paused to readjust her composure into a near stand on her knees.
“That IS fear culture. Process exceeds person across the board here, and in the grand scheme everyone loses. You are literally taking the brunt here with your blog bradandchris.com.”
Seeing things materialize for the two, Becky switched gears quickly. “I say keep going. The Oregon Trail didn’t pop up out of nowhere. If you look around, you are not the only gays on the block either. Start your own thing or grind away just as the bots do to you. Eventually people pick up mirroring which is why we all do it where conversations can’t or do not happen for whatever reason.”
Becky scanned the pool looking for their server before returning her attention to Brad and Chris.
“To mirrors, why don’t you start Twittering? Musk is also weary of AI. You might find a home there. It would not hurt to try.”
Brad and Chris appreciated options and the former nodded in affirmation. The each knew they were not helpless, but not unaware any move required significant resources or losses.
As to her suggestion as to where to temporarily store the conversation of a need for master plan for a global emergency, Becky affirmed her choice in Africa. Humanity began on the very same soil, and the entire continent was bothering enough to take time for introspection.
She lived in South Africa for several years as a medical refugee from the United States Her insurance didn’t cover her condition and she needed to go somewhere cheap as well multicultural that came in English with a beach. It was that or Belize.
Chris who’d been quietly sunning at the edge of the cabana suddenly came to life. “Is that where ‘Please Belize’ came from? I’ve heard you say that and caught myself saying it. It’s mad addicting. I’ve tried to keep it to myself as I didn’t know what it meant. I forget to ask every time you are around. The last thing I need to do is offend more people out of the blue.”
Chris sat up to allow for his hands and arms to go full on Price is Right showcase. “I look really good in blue. Just look at my tiny swimmers.”
Becky nodded in affirmation took the last slip of the margarita in hand and motioned for the pool server that came into view to head their way. Satisfied they made contact and on their way over, she called Mars a ‘hellhole’ and reframed Twitter as a definite ‘maybe.’
She then mentioned she got her job assisting for Ralph Lauren after meeting him at the beach in Cape Town. That’s why she came back to the States. Her her stint abroad may also explain some oddities about her.
To bring everything full circle before the server arrived, Becky indicated her regret for using the Oregon Trail as an example. It wasn’t what she intended to say though she could not remember what that was. She pointed out while understandable as a selection, Boise left out half the population inclusive of herself, and that she didn’t know what a ‘shuffle’ was. It did not ring as something particularly evolutionary or bring much to her in terms of inspiration. It did remind her of apples for unknown reasons.
At the end of the day and to rest her case, it was fun to say Namibia.
“Namibia.”
Becky was so on her game.
Chris couldn't possibly have one more mimosa... but since his boyfriend Brad was offering, he liked the first one the best. It had that cute little sliced strawberry thingy on top. Maybe it was spiked w/vodka... Just maybe. Ask Becky if she's still standing.
She wasn’t.
Brad knew he was pretty. No news there.
…but was he AI pretty?
He didn’t feel real real. While there, Brad didn’t know how to feel real real in the first place. Did anyone know?
In the spirit of keeping it real Brad’s boyfriend Chris answered with a stark “No.” Chris then went on to explain not a single soul had a clue as to why we were all on this tiny planet hurtling through interstellar space at ungodly speeds.
After three seconds of pouted silence, Brad demanded to know once again if he was not pretty but AI pretty.
Chris said Brad was ‘as plastic as they come’ not after pointing out plastic was as real as anything else. “You want to get real real Brad? Just look at our oceans. Even sea salt was loaded with microplastics now. Nothing out of the ocean was safe. It was pink Himalayan or bust.”
Before Chris could go any further, Brad announced that he decided he’d ask their friend Becky when she got back from the taco stand. She was straight so could hypothetically give a straight answer. It wasn’t ideal but his boyfriend’s roundabout just wasn’t cutting it.
Brad then paused to look around. “Where was Becky anyway?
Chris replied, “Really Brad? Really?!?”
That’s when Becky sauntered up from behind Chris with a basket of fresh steamy tacos. She asked the boys for the last time if they were really down for eating all this given they were both out.
It was quite a spread and the meat had the same consistency as cottage cheese but it wasn’t Taco Bell nor its knock off Taco Bueno. It was some local man from Pennsylvania who made them. His name was Hanz Bergenstein. That stuck out to Becky for some reason.
Brad and Chris were very quick to respond. They were not up or down with the taco scene. Becky thought this might be the case.
Pulling her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose so she could make eye contact with Brad and Chris, Becky mentioned it was a good thing it was a Saturday. There was no way they’d be sitting next to a group of stuntmen from the Monster Truck Show tomorrow. It was one night only and always on a Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.
No one knew why the day of the show needed to be repeated three times when it actually occurred in the evening but that’s what presented itself. The Monster Truck Show never started before 5-5:30pm so the organizers wouldn’t be inclined to extend the truck rally and inadvertently cause a mass suffocation in an unsuspecting domed stadium.
As it was, everyone would get light headed just one hour in. The show of course was without a story line and absolutely terrible, but the fumes more than made up for it. Mix in the local beer, busty girls as well as some good ol’ fashioned Red Bull, and let’s be honest. It really didn’t matter what was going on. That’s a good time despite any controversy!
To that, Becky asked Brad and Chris if 5pm was technically still daytime. Brad pointed out it was a slightly delicate yes and no situation that included the whole daylight savings mess. That seemed like a lot to him for a casual day at the pool.
Chris agreed and then threw in a memo stating that spring forward/fall back thing just needed to die already. Becky said it was one of many horrifying things that would die naturally with the Boomers as they finally made their way out to which Brad and Chris replied a nearly automated “Here. Here.”
With that, the controversy tabled itself for another time. Becky then announced she needed to take advantage of the situation so she could get the stuntmen to take advantage of her. Flipping her hair in a tizzy Becky then spun a perfect 180 to showcase her taco basket to the heterosexuals. The three men let out a faint gasp.
Becky was real real real and felt real real real too. Before fully launching herself gaily forward into the world of straights, she paused to give Brad an answer to a question he had yet to ask of her.
“Brad, you’re not AI pretty. You’re REAL pretty! P.S. you’re REAL pretty too Chris.”
Awe! Becky was the real real deal!!!
And just like that, Becky was off like like her swimsuit in 45 minutes. It would take Brad and Chris a good ten to get theirs off mostly because both felt slightly bloated from smelling the tacos. It took four of those minutes just to realize the taco stand was only ten feet away. Madonna saved the world in that amount of time.
Obviously, tacos were evil.
What Brad and Chris needed was a tall cool glass or two of cucumber water. To Brad and Chris’ delight they gulped down three that day. Why don’t we say it was a vurrrry hot afternoon to every degree and leave it at that.
Mmmmm… cucumber.
Speaking to deep thoughts at the shallow end of the pool, Brad and Chris’ neighbor Luke found all this AI business sat somewhere between really smart plastic and super advanced AstroTurf.
TightGuys.
Hope these help inspire you?! What would you do to these three hotties?
The stud in the purple board shorts does give me a devious idea... 😈
-- -- --
Braxton relaxed by the pool at the expensive resort, soaking up the hot sunbeams. The stud had thousands of followers on his social media accounts, and had gotten an invite to the mysterious resort out of the blue. He'd figured that the resort was trying to get some more patronage and had sought the sexy stud's influencer status.
The stud rubbed some of the resort's brand sunblock onto his skin, letting his chiseled muscles absorb the creamy concoction. The residual film from the lotion left his muscles glistening underneath the noon sun.
Braxton relaxed back in his lounge chair, feeling as if his body was tingling from the sunblock. He ignored it, figuring that it was nothing.
He folded his muscled arms behind his head, enjoying the way the action made his pecs pop and look bigger. Already, just from lying out in the sun, he noticed that there was a little more tan to his skin, which made the contours of his muscles all the more noticeable.
Braxton relaxed and let the time pass, the tingling sensation on his muscles growing stronger by the second until it finally dissipated.
"Hey! What are you doing just lying around?" a voice barked out at Braxton.
The confused stud opened his eyes and looked over at the resort employee who crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the stud expectantly.
"Huh?" Braxton wondered aloud, flinching when he heard the deeper quality of his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What are you talking about?" Still, his voice had an unknown baritone quality to it.
"We didn't hire you to lounge around, Poolboy!" the employee huffed. "Now get up! The guests are getting restless."
Braxton was confused as to what the other guy was talking about, yet, he felt himself get off the lounge chair and stand up. However, the moment he was on his feet, everything felt wrong.
Arms collided with lats, and his chest felt incredibly heavy. His thighs felt as if they pushed against each other, and Braxton had to adjust his stance a little wider. The hunk looked downward and gasped loudly.
He was huge!
The first thing the hunk saw was a shelf of a chest, his pecs practically ballooning off his chest. They were insanely round and incredibly tan, looking as if he lived to work out and went around shirtless all the time. Below his massive pecs was a cobblestone of abs, followed by a thick snake-like cock that pressed against his tight board shorts. His arms had thickened up significantly, hanging at his sides at a ninety degree angle. Braxton looked like a total bodybuilder, insanely musclebound and tan.
"Wh-what happened?" he stammered in his deep voice, struggling to poke at his massive muscles, but his biceps and pecs kept pushing against each other, severely limiting his range of motion.
The employee rolled his eyes. "Poolboy," he muttered, "hurry up and clean the pool. And make sure to flex a little bit."
Braxton wanted to argue, to point out that he wasn't supposed to look like he did. However, the tan bodybuilder waddled over towards one of the sheds and pulled out a skimmer, before moving back towards the pool.
Despite himself, Braxton felt himself start to clean the pool, a wide smile forming on his face. The other resort patrons looked his way, and once they made eye contact, the stud couldn't help but flex his massive muscles, showing off his new musculature for every other guy there.
Braxton found himself unable to stop working around the pool, showing off his massive muscles for every other guest around. To his horror, he found himself enjoying it, his cock rock hard as he showed off, acting like the slutty poolboy he now was.
