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Hoot Island returns! Kinda.


Guess it’s been a while,. huh.

You know, I totally meant to call. Really. But with one thing and another, and, well, you know…

Anyway, I’m back up and working on rebuilding the Island from scratch, more or less, so please bear with me while I figure this out. There’s gonna be a short period of messiness, I suspect, while I get everything back online.

But in the meantime, you can go read my short story collection “Giggling Into the Pillow” for free! It’s over at Smashwords, in several different formats for your portable reading pleasure. Not that I’d ever stop you from buying a print copy for yourself, of course…

Thanks for checking back, and I hope to hang around another 10 years.

Hoot Island Halloween Party!

Hey, cool, glad you could make it! Great costumes! Don’t you get cold like that?

C’mon in, I’ll get you set up. Mind your step, the fog covers the floor and we’ve already discovered how dangerous that can be around here. Whatever you do, don’t walk around barefoot. I’ve got little latex booties for everyone and you can hose your feet off later if you want. Worth it for the effect, though.

Drinks are over at the bar, leave your keys in the bowl. Food is buffet-style over there. The orgy’s “come-as-you-are,” leave your proof of birth control and blood tests with Marcia, she’s the blonde over on the couch, the one dressed like Lady Godiva’s horse.

Try to keep a sense of style about you if you can, work it so that if you fuck someone your costumes match or at least conflict in an amusing way, like that couple over there dressed as Pat Robertson and the boy scout, or that group trying to make a star. Nice grouping, guys!

Type your cut contents here.


Lotta great costumes here tonight. The guy by the punch bowl? Naked guy on skates? That’s Billy, he came as a pull toy. Jennifer, the one with the black gloves and black shoes and interesting trim job, she came as the 5 of spades. There’s at least six or seven human condoms walking around, two sets of testicles, one guy came as Margaret Sanger, and one courageous woman came as a female ejaculation (with hidden hydraulics, careful around her). Oh, and Bernie by the stairs is a dick. What? No, I didn’t notice what his costume is, he’s just a dick. Not many ghosts, though, No spare sheets.

We’ve got lots of party games going on. Out by the pool they’re playing “Bobbing for Boobies.” They float, you see… You can’t use your hands and most of the girls don’t fancy the kind of jaw strength that can grab an apple, so it’s a game for masters. Well, as it happens Sharon is an apple girl, so she only counts as half points, but the rest of them you gotta be more careful.

Let’s see what’s in here… hey, what’s with the lights?

“So I reached out and took her ripe, taut buttock in my hand. Here, pass this around. Feel how full, how sweet it is.”

Just back out quietly. That was Dave, doing the body parts game. Ever been at a Halloween party where they turn the lights off and one guy tells a scary story while he passes around creepy stuff? Like talking about a witch’s eyes and passing around peeled grapes or something? Well, we don’t go in for scary stuff too much here.

In the next room they’re doing the same sort of thing but they’re passing around a flashlight. Under their faces? Not hardly…

For those of you who have always wanted to live a childhood fantasy, the back bedroom is three feet deep with candy. It’s by far the most requested romantic rendezvous room of the evening. There’s just something about the smell of it, the crinkling of the paper… If you’re interested you’ll need to sign up. You can tell who’s been in there already; I had a Butterfingers wrapper stuck to my ass for an hour before anyone told me. The bastards.

Out in the backyard they’re trick-or-treating. Yeah, the backyard. You go up to someone and go “trick or treat” and you get one or the other, usually right there on the spot. Be careful approaching groups, they might all chip in.

Upstairs we’ve got a haunted whore house set up, tours go through every half hour. Ghoulish ladies of the evening, in several sense of the term. You walk through spooky State Supreme Court hearings on sodomy laws, there’s a room decked out like your parents’ bedroom, and I still have nightmares thinking about the Hall of Impotence.

There’s a group experimenting in the kitchen. See, they started out making caramel apples, but they ran out of apples, so they’re making do. They stuff wraps nicely around so many things, you know? And it just gets gooier when it heats up, but then, so do I. Oh, safety note – do not insert candy corn anywhere you can’t shake it out of. We had an incident earlier. Amazing what you can do with a pumpkin scooper when you really have to.

Hmm? Oh, that’s the local witches’ group celebrating Samhain on the roof. Ordinarily this is a time when witches and pagans celebrate the final harvest time of the year, the halfway point between winter and spring, the final turn of the wheel of life, and they put themselves in harmony with the elements of the universe and seek to honor those who have gone before. Our group just fucks, mostly. The Hoot Island coven call themselves Waccans; they’re a bit goofier and more whimsical than your average pagan. Right now they’re raising a cone of power with three cases of aerosol whipped cream cans.

Just settle in and enjoy yourselves, I’ve got more guests to greet. Happy Halloween, everyone! Hey, you folks need another hand in the back bedroom? The candy man can!

Poem: Feeding Frenzy

You wouldn’t believe how long since my last
But I woke up all ready, got to break my fast
Just look at me now, you can see how I feel
I’m a fast-growing boy and I need a real meal
There’s an empty space inside where my hunger resides
There’s only one thing to do, think I’m gonna eat you

I want to snarf you down, your neck’s where I’ll begin
Hit every spot that you’ve got, wherever there’s skin
Gonna eat what I will until I’ve had my fill,
working down and back around and then I’ll come back again

I tried Mrs. Paul, she’s a cold, fishy treat
Got a taste of Little Debbie, she’s a little too sweet
Julia Child has never served what I need
And Chef Boy-ar-dee just doesn’t do it for me
You’re what I want to munch, I need a Hungry Man lunch
I want a dinner hot and steamin’ that I can put some cream in

I want to gobble you up, I want to taste you all day
You’re my all-you-can-eat, you’re my favorite buffet
I want some thighs and a breast then I’ll savor the rest
with strawberries, chocolate, and chilled chardonney

First course will be tongue, delicious and wet
I’ll sample your peaches but I’m not done yet
A piece of your rump roast will do me right
then I’ll gobble your taco the rest of the night
My whole menu’s the same and it all has your name
I’m going to give you five stars, do you take MasterCard?

I want to feed my face, I want to eat at the “Y”
Gonna eat ’til I’m bursting, then wipe my face dry
I hope you got a whole lot and you’re keeping it hot
‘cuz I’m getting up for seconds and a big bite of pie!

Working on your facials

I’d like to take a moment to talk about an important device in your sexual toolbox: your orgasm face.

Do you know what yours looks like? Next time you’re with your lover, ask him or her for a description. Trust me, they’ll be happy to provide one, with the same sort of helpful and enthusaistic imitation they use when demonstrating your snoring for house guests and fellow bus stop patrons. Most likely you’ll see your partner twist his or her face into a pained grimace of soul-wrenching anguish, such as might be seen on a small woman who was giving birth to a luxury car.

Most orgasm faces are wild, uncontrolled, and about as erotic as watching someone get a root canal. And sometimes this is exactly what you want. There are times when the sex is so fantastic you actually experience a phylogenic reversion and drop back a few evolutionary steps to bellow out the war cry of prehistoric man getting a hummer, and that’s great. But that shouldn’t be your only expression. Sometimes it’s the look on your face that tips your lover over the edge and it’s worthwhile to have a few in reserve.

The Lotto Winner

This is the unbelievably happy, open-mouthed grin of a person who can’t comprehend their good fortune, the one that makes you look as if any minute now you’re going to yodel. Think of the hysterical housewives on “The Price is Right” when they win a car, or the teenage girls in old Beatles newsreels. Ideal for your first time, or for your first time with someone you’ll admit to publicly.

The Joan

A “Joan” is what you have during a religious experience. An expression of wonder, of blissful joy, of transcendent pleasure enfolding the Divine, as if in the final moments of your lovemaking you were abruptly touched by God, which is a pretty freaky thought all by itself. An excellent expression for the romantic, it’s often seen during a person’s first encounter with oral sex.

The Scream

Remember what Christopher Reeve looked like when he was Superman in the first movie and he hadn’t stopped the missile in time and there were earthquakes and he’d just saved Jimmy and dammed up a little model city and he found Lois but she was dead and he was too late and he takes a breath and screams loud enough to kill her if she wasn’t dead already? That’s the one. You’ll need that for the first time someone discovers your G-spot and/or prostate, especially if they have cold hands.

The Clincher

So called because this one is guaranteed to utterly melt the heart and crotchal region of anyone. Just as you feel the edge of the orgasm hit, quietly but forcefully say your lover’s name to get their attention and then maintain eye contact as you spasm, letting your lover see exactly the effect their actions are having on you. Keep your eyes open the whole time and try to keep your expression under control; the combination is devastating. Avoid using it during encounters when eye contact is problematic, when there’s more than four people involved, or if your loved one doesn’t actually know you and they’ve just found you standing by their car in the grocery store parking lot.

The Earnhardt

The triumphant face of a winner after a long and physically demanding ordeal, especially those that require goggles. Characterized by good sportsmanship, a determined grin, a cocky attitude, a lot of sweat, and the intense stare of a person white-water rafting through a canyon pass without a paddle. Peter North uses this one a lot.

The Power Grunt

A single impassioned “Uh!” followed by an immediate return of decorum. Perfect for business lunches and people who suffer the ordeals of animalistic mating as their duty to perpetuate the human race.

The Aretha

The one that goes on forever, with a shriek that travels through five octaves and can crack sheet glass.

The Hamilton

A suave and debonair smile, just enough to signal “Yes, I came, and it was just fine, thanks” without messing your hair. Often accompanied with a wink and by making that gun-shooting motion at your lover with your thumb and forefinger while you click your tongue.

The Oh Shit

What you get when you orgasm immediately after being distracted at a crucial time, when for a brief second you forgot you were having sex and were forcefully reminded again with unexpected pelvic spasms.

The Aiken

The kind of face you make when you’re nervously enjoying your first gut-wrenching orgasm after major surgery; you’re loving what’s happening but you’re not confident enough in the integrity of your stitches to really let go. This is the one you use for quiet, intimate moments, like when her parents are still awake. Also often experienced by people trying to do the Scream when they don’t look like Chris Reeve.

The Mona

This serene expression signals the mutually-agreed-upon ending of half a day of tantric non-effort, not much more than a sign to your lover that you’ve peacefully moved past the building-of-shared-kundalinic-energy phase and into the desperately-needing-a-towel phase.

The What-the

An expression of total and flabbergasted surprise, like you’d get from a person who kicked a snowball and wiped out a ski lodge. The effect you want here is the expression that what you’re currently experiencing came out of nowhere and completely snuck up on you. Very handy for pretending that you never knew you were turned on by latex undergarments, or that you had no clue your premature ejaculation was going to happen before you even signed the motel register.

We’ll Always Have Paris Hilton

The blurry-deer-in-the-headlights expression of a person almost too drunk to realize a climax has occurred in their immediate vicinity.

The Squeak Toy

This is the repetitive, involuntary gasping made when the right spot is suddenly found and the person performing the expression wishes to make it clear that he or she will kill you with a cinder block if you don’t keep doing whatever it is you’re doing to that spot until you’re given written instructions to stop.

The Oscar

The expression of bestial glee that you’ve practiced in your mirror until you can snap it off picture perfect at any time. Good for reassuring husbands, impressing business superiors, and getting rid of dates who have been pumping away for a damn hour, it seems like.

The Bonus

The delighted, slightly stunned and very grateful expression of someone who clearly hadn’t expected the second orgasm.

Shock and Ohh

If you’re going to lose control, this is the one to do it with. From this expression, not only is it obvious to the casual observer that you’re wallowing in the greatest feeling you’ve ever had in your life, but you’re not entirely sure you can stop now that you’ve started and one or the both of you may not survive the experience, and you don’t care. Hard to describe, but you’ll know it when you see it, after you come to and check the tape.

Mix and match them according to your needs, and don’t forget that when you’re at your highest point of release and personal joy, your lover can see right up your nose. Have fun!

Gay, Filing Jointly

Current activities in California, Massachusetts, Oregon, and Congress concerning legally-accepted gay marriage is, without a doubt, a huge step forward towards acceptance of alternate lifestyles. For the first time in the history of the United States, significant portions of Americans are willing to acknowledge a commitment between two people of the same gender and extend the same legal benefits that they would to a traditionally marriage, such as the one enjoyed by romantic traditionalist Britney Spears. Obviously this is going to cause a bit of a stir in the different local, state and federal departments as they attempt to modify their existing procedures to accommodate the new customs, but we’re proud to announce that the paper people are more than up to the task, if a bit confused. The Internal Revenue Service has wasted no time in preparing ways to tax this new situation, and we’ve been fortunate enough to obtain a first draft of one of the suggested forms, presented below.

Form 1040Q – Income Tax Return For Single and Gay Filers With No Dependents

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Your first name and initial, last name

If a joint return, your spouse’s first name and initial, last name

If a joint return, which one of you is “the girl?”

Home address, number and street, city state and zip

Presidential Election Campaign – would you like to donate $3 towards the election of someone virtually guaranteed to oppose your very existence no matter how obviously butch he totally is?

1. Total wages, salaries, and anything tucked into your Mae West garter during “Hollywood Night.” This should be shown in box 1 of your W-2 form. Please refrain from including comments about your spouse’s financial worthiness.

2. Unemployment compensation, state tuition program earnings, parental “go away” money

3.. Add lines 1 and 2. This is your adjusted gross income.

4. Can your parents claim you on their return? Do your parents claim you when their friends ask?

5. Subtract line 4 from line 3. This is your taxable income.

6. Allowable Deductions – (including, but not limited to, hairdresser tips, approved ointments (see attached list), leather accessories not exceeding $50, charitable donations, and those darling little Rivoli pumps)

7. Earned sexual credit – devices or accessories you have purchased to be used in sexual practices that did not result in a child, thereby saving the state tons of cash.

Dental dams
Really soft rope
Condoms, lots of ‘em
Instructional videos
Diana Ross CDs
Those butt plug things

8. Add 6 and 7, subtract the total from 5, add an additional $1000 annoyed Christian charge, and then just send us the rest.

9. Special bonus question: could you, y’know, tell us what it’s like? Maybe with pictures?

There are notes scrawled across this form, along with many areas scratched out and some interesting doodles. Some of the suggestions included possible tax breaks for windows and windshields broken in religious fervor, depreciation on last season’s clothing, and deferred state taxes on Melissa Etheridge concert tickets.

Well, they mean well.

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