David Mensch
Senior List
Hi Cat fans, Menschy here.
I've been working on a novel lately, and i thought i'd give you a look at the first page and see what you think. The main character is similar to myself in many ways, and i have drawn on some of my own life experiences. I haven't thought of a title for the book yet, so if you have any suggestions...
Dwayne Manson was not a guy to mess with. Six foot four with a powerful, muscular build and the temperament of a rattlesnake. His innocence was lost at an early age, when Father McNally held him back after Sunday school class for 'extra tuition'. A graduate from the school of hard knocks, he spent his early years of manhood in a travelling freak show, wrestling in handicap matchups against flatulent short people (many of which had severe cases of herpes). But the freak show business didn't provide the fame and fortune that he expected it would, and he soon turned to various other pursuits, working as a bunjee jump technician, an Amway salesman and a brief stint as a pr0n star.
It was only recently that he had found his true calling as a private detective. He was a natural. Most cases in this profession involved peering into windows late at night and observing couples engaging in sexual intercourse, something Dwayne had been doing since he was 16. It was his latest case that brought him to 'Kazzars', a yuppy bar frequented mainly by stockbrokers and advertising executives. He was there on behalf of his client Catherine Ridley to photograph her husband Blake meeting up with his gay lover. But Manson's attention had been captured by an attractive blond sitting at the bar. Manson hadn't slept with a woman for nearly two hours and withdrawl symptoms had started to set in. He made his way over to the bar to perform one of his tried and true methods of gaining the interest of a female. He stood a few feet away from her and spoke to the bartender at a volume loud enough for her to overhear.
"Excuse me mate, does the condom machine in the men's room dispense the extra large size?". He could see a slight turn of her head out of the corner of his eye, and he knew she was taking the bait. The rest would be easy.
"Why, making water bombs are you?" quipped the bartender. The woman sfellowed and they shared a glance between them. Very funny pal, Manson thought, i'll kick your ass later on.
"Don't be stupid, i stopped playing with water bombs when i was 28. For your information i have a big penis and only the extra large dingas fit me."
He thought he had repaired some of the damage caused by the idiot Tom Cruise wannabe, but when he looked over to the woman he saw her programming a new ring tune into her mobile phone. Things got progressively worse, as Blake Ridley offered to buy him a drink.
see ya
I've been working on a novel lately, and i thought i'd give you a look at the first page and see what you think. The main character is similar to myself in many ways, and i have drawn on some of my own life experiences. I haven't thought of a title for the book yet, so if you have any suggestions...
Dwayne Manson was not a guy to mess with. Six foot four with a powerful, muscular build and the temperament of a rattlesnake. His innocence was lost at an early age, when Father McNally held him back after Sunday school class for 'extra tuition'. A graduate from the school of hard knocks, he spent his early years of manhood in a travelling freak show, wrestling in handicap matchups against flatulent short people (many of which had severe cases of herpes). But the freak show business didn't provide the fame and fortune that he expected it would, and he soon turned to various other pursuits, working as a bunjee jump technician, an Amway salesman and a brief stint as a pr0n star.
It was only recently that he had found his true calling as a private detective. He was a natural. Most cases in this profession involved peering into windows late at night and observing couples engaging in sexual intercourse, something Dwayne had been doing since he was 16. It was his latest case that brought him to 'Kazzars', a yuppy bar frequented mainly by stockbrokers and advertising executives. He was there on behalf of his client Catherine Ridley to photograph her husband Blake meeting up with his gay lover. But Manson's attention had been captured by an attractive blond sitting at the bar. Manson hadn't slept with a woman for nearly two hours and withdrawl symptoms had started to set in. He made his way over to the bar to perform one of his tried and true methods of gaining the interest of a female. He stood a few feet away from her and spoke to the bartender at a volume loud enough for her to overhear.
"Excuse me mate, does the condom machine in the men's room dispense the extra large size?". He could see a slight turn of her head out of the corner of his eye, and he knew she was taking the bait. The rest would be easy.
"Why, making water bombs are you?" quipped the bartender. The woman sfellowed and they shared a glance between them. Very funny pal, Manson thought, i'll kick your ass later on.
"Don't be stupid, i stopped playing with water bombs when i was 28. For your information i have a big penis and only the extra large dingas fit me."
He thought he had repaired some of the damage caused by the idiot Tom Cruise wannabe, but when he looked over to the woman he saw her programming a new ring tune into her mobile phone. Things got progressively worse, as Blake Ridley offered to buy him a drink.
see ya
