Hi, all. Sorry for my last several messages being so utterly, horribly brief. Sorrier still for having little-to-no time to give you something besides some poorly-taken bellypics and some rather-better face shots to look at. Unfortunately, my father recently died, and I really couldn't write well until after the memorial service. (He chose cremation, with his ashes to be scattered over the shore of Costa Rica.)
Now that I have time (and emotional stability) enough to think straight, let me try a more in-depth introduction.
I'm a 36-year-old man in Mesquite, TX (one of those suburbs once evocatively described as a pimple on the backside of a gorilla named Dallas). I work as a crossing guard during the school year, and am currently engaged in a jobhunt to find something that will pay enough to keep me from having to dip into my savings everytime I pay the bills.
Sadly, I'm not currently in a relationship. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be. Unfortunately, I'm a Nice Guy.
<wait for groans of understanding>
Yes, that's right. I'm one of those guys that doesn't feel like a guy to women. I make a great shopping partner, crying towel, and dinner guest, and most women would consider going on a date with their brothers before they thought of me. I've got the whole package, too. I'm completely non-threatening, I never make a move until I'm sure the girl wants me to, and I like softly-lit, romantic dinners. I listened to "Sensitive New-Age Guys" and didn't get the "music that's repetitious" gag until the third time around. I even have the same feelings as that long-forgotten character from the Bonkers cartoon, The Mean Old Wolf: "I'm really kind, sensitive, caring... and a fool for a hot cup of cocoa on a cold winter's night."
Since I have no relationships going, mind you, I have plenty of time for hobbies (especially since crossing guards only work four hours a day during the school year). I'm active in furry fandom, the internet radio show Otter Island, several online fora (including this one, obviously), the TSA-Talk mailing list (for writers... originally it was also a supply line for the story archive, The Transformation Story Archive), their annual gathering, The TSA Bash, and occasionally my local community theatre. And in my spare time, I play in an RPG session on Mondays and run a game on Wednesdays.
<looks back over that long list>
Yeesh, do I need a girlfriend or what?
Truthfully, I'm mainly here to talk. There aren't many people in my area that are anywhere near my age (as in, within 20 years in either direction), and that drastically limits the topics of conversation. Not that I mind discussing politics and recent operations, but there's more to life...
Please note, if I ever do manage to find an actual physical relationship, I wouldn't mind in the least. It's just that, when all you've ever attracted are gay men, and nearly every woman you've ever asked turned out to be either enaged or married, it's awfully hard to consider yourself "on the make".
Now, as to being a BHM? I've always loved the sheer feeling of softness and size, the sheer heaviness of being fat. Up until age 10, I weighed a little more than 200 pounds, at least partially because I talk a lot. Mother was a big believer in "shut up and eat".:eat1: Sadly, I lost a lot of weight at that time because I overheard Mother talking about how much Husky-size clothes cost. Now that I buy my own clothes, I'm slowly (and it feels even slower than it is) working my way back up to being a butterball. Now, if I can just get a nice, sedentary job that pays enough to keep me well-fed... :eat2:
The funny thing is, when I was a 200+-pound ten-year-old (and remarkably active for my size), I never really got hassled for my weight. Looking back, sure, some people made comments... but I was clueless. I figured ripping open the seat of your pants every other week was normal. I actually enjoyed being able to take a deep breath and pop open the snap on my pants.
Currently, though, I'm a chubby 240 pounds or so (the bathroom scale is a Goodwill purchase, and doesn't hold a setting). Not bad for 5'10", but I'm hoping to eventually make 300 or even 400 pounds. 500? Maybe... I certainly like the way it looks on other BHMs I've met. Only time will tell. I can't say I don't like the idea of being a huge BHM, mind you. Sitting there with my belly overflowing my lap and the sides of the chair... Whee!
Again, I'm sorry for appearing so reticent before now. But now that I have time to talk, I look forward to making up for it.
Yours truly,
The well-fed,
Wanderer
Now that I have time (and emotional stability) enough to think straight, let me try a more in-depth introduction.
I'm a 36-year-old man in Mesquite, TX (one of those suburbs once evocatively described as a pimple on the backside of a gorilla named Dallas). I work as a crossing guard during the school year, and am currently engaged in a jobhunt to find something that will pay enough to keep me from having to dip into my savings everytime I pay the bills.
Sadly, I'm not currently in a relationship. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be. Unfortunately, I'm a Nice Guy.
<wait for groans of understanding>
Yes, that's right. I'm one of those guys that doesn't feel like a guy to women. I make a great shopping partner, crying towel, and dinner guest, and most women would consider going on a date with their brothers before they thought of me.
I've got the whole package, too. I'm completely non-threatening, I never make a move until I'm sure the girl wants me to, and I like softly-lit, romantic dinners. I listened to "Sensitive New-Age Guys" and didn't get the "music that's repetitious" gag until the third time around. I even have the same feelings as that long-forgotten character from the Bonkers cartoon, The Mean Old Wolf: "I'm really kind, sensitive, caring... and a fool for a hot cup of cocoa on a cold winter's night."Since I have no relationships going, mind you, I have plenty of time for hobbies (especially since crossing guards only work four hours a day during the school year). I'm active in furry fandom, the internet radio show Otter Island, several online fora (including this one, obviously), the TSA-Talk mailing list (for writers... originally it was also a supply line for the story archive, The Transformation Story Archive), their annual gathering, The TSA Bash, and occasionally my local community theatre. And in my spare time, I play in an RPG session on Mondays and run a game on Wednesdays.
<looks back over that long list>
Yeesh, do I need a girlfriend or what?
Truthfully, I'm mainly here to talk. There aren't many people in my area that are anywhere near my age (as in, within 20 years in either direction), and that drastically limits the topics of conversation. Not that I mind discussing politics and recent operations, but there's more to life...
Please note, if I ever do manage to find an actual physical relationship, I wouldn't mind in the least. It's just that, when all you've ever attracted are gay men, and nearly every woman you've ever asked turned out to be either enaged or married, it's awfully hard to consider yourself "on the make".
Now, as to being a BHM? I've always loved the sheer feeling of softness and size, the sheer heaviness of being fat. Up until age 10, I weighed a little more than 200 pounds, at least partially because I talk a lot. Mother was a big believer in "shut up and eat".:eat1: Sadly, I lost a lot of weight at that time because I overheard Mother talking about how much Husky-size clothes cost. Now that I buy my own clothes, I'm slowly (and it feels even slower than it is) working my way back up to being a butterball. Now, if I can just get a nice, sedentary job that pays enough to keep me well-fed... :eat2:
The funny thing is, when I was a 200+-pound ten-year-old (and remarkably active for my size), I never really got hassled for my weight. Looking back, sure, some people made comments... but I was clueless. I figured ripping open the seat of your pants every other week was normal.
I actually enjoyed being able to take a deep breath and pop open the snap on my pants. Currently, though, I'm a chubby 240 pounds or so (the bathroom scale is a Goodwill purchase, and doesn't hold a setting). Not bad for 5'10", but I'm hoping to eventually make 300 or even 400 pounds. 500? Maybe... I certainly like the way it looks on other BHMs I've met. Only time will tell. I can't say I don't like the idea of being a huge BHM, mind you. Sitting there with my belly overflowing my lap and the sides of the chair...
Whee!Again, I'm sorry for appearing so reticent before now. But now that I have time to talk, I look forward to making up for it.
Yours truly,
The well-fed,
Wanderer
