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The Big Stupid Review


American Dream Serialization (Early Chapters)
Introduction to Jim Chaffee's Studies in Mathematical Pornography by Maurice Stoker
Introduction to Jim Chaffee's Studies in Mathematical Pornography by Tom Bradley
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: American Dream Title Page by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 1 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 2 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 3 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 4 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 5 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 6 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 7 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 8 by Jim Chaffee
Studies in Mathematical Pornography: Chapter 9 by Jim Chaffee
Modern Tragedy, or Parodies of Ourselves by Robert Castle
Totally Enchanté, Dahling by Thor Garcia
Hastini by Rudy Ravindra
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 5 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
Unexpected Pastures by Kim Farleigh
Nonviolence by Jim Courter
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 4 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
The Poet Laureate of Greenville by Al Po
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part VI by Thor Garcia
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 3 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part V by Thor Garcia
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part IV by Thor Garcia
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 2 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part I by Thor Garcia
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part II by Thor Garcia
The Apocalypse of St. Cleo, Part III by Thor Garcia
The Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter Volume 1 Translation by W. C. Firebaugh
DADDY KNOWS WORST: Clown Cowers as Father Flounders! by Thor Garcia
RESURRECTON: Excerpt from Breakfast at Midnight by Louis Armand
Review of The Volcker Virus (Donald Strauss) by Kane X Faucher: Excerpt from the forthcoming Infinite Grey by Kane X Faucher
Little Red Light by Suvi Mahonen and Luke Waldrip
TEXECUTION: Klown Konfab as Killer Kroaked! by Thor Garcia
Miranda's Poop by Jimmy Grist
Paul Fabulan by Kane X Faucher: Excerpt from the forthcoming Infinite Grey by Kane X Faucher
Operation Scumbag by Thor Garcia
Take-Out Dick by Holly Day
Patience by Ward Webb
The Moon Hides Behind a Cloud by Barrie Darke
The Golden Limo of Slipback City by Ken Valenti
Chapter from The Infinite Atrocity by Kane X. Faucher
Support the Troops By Giving Them Posthumous Boners by Tom Bradley
When Good Pistols Do Bad Things by Kurt Mueller
Corporate Strategies by Bruce Douglas Reeves
The Dead Sea by Kim Farleigh
The Perfect Knot by Ernest Alanki
Girlish by Bob Bartholomew
The Little Ganges by Joshua Willey
The Invisible World: René Magritte by Nick Bertelson
Honk for Jesus by Mitchell Waldman
Red's Dead by Eli Richardson
The Memphis Showdown by Gabriel Ricard
Someday Man by John Grochalski
I Was a Teenage Rent-a-Frankenstein by Tom Bradley
Only Love Can Break Your Heart by Fred Bubbers
Believe in These Men by Adam Greenfield
The Magnus Effect by Robert Edward Sullivan
Performance Piece by Jim Chaffee
Injustice for All by D. E. Fredd
The Polysyllogistic Curse by Gary J. Shipley
How It's Done by Anjoli Roy
Ghost Dance by Connor Caddigan
Two in a Van by Pavlo Kravchenko
Uncreated Creatures by Connor Caddigan
Invisible by Anjoli Roy
One of Us by Sonia Ramos Rossi
Storyteller by Alan McCormick
Idolatry by Robert Smith
P H I L E M A T O P H I L I A by Traci Chee
They Do! by Al Po
Full TEX Archive
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Symphony #1: Roger Castleman

By John Grochalski

It was Friday and Roger Castleman began his workday the way he always did, by jacking off in the third stall of the corporate bathroom. It was a pathetic habit; Roger knew it. But he couldn't help himself. It was that goddamned redheaded secretary. Every morning Roger said he wouldn't jack it in the corporate bathroom anymore, but then he'd get up to his floor, see that redhead swiveling her quaking ass in that chair, and he was a goner. He'd be down the hall and in the can, pants down, red rod in hand before he had a cup of coffee. He was powerless to the female beast.

Roger sat in the stall and imagined the redhead leaning over her big, soft work chair, ringed fingers tightly gripping the top of the seat, skirt off and panties down at the knees, and Roger banging away from behind in glorious fashion. He had a finger up the redhead's rosy asshole. What reckless abandon! What a daydream on yet another drab Friday! The secretary never had it so good, Roger mused. He stroked away. He could almost feel the inside of her cunt, tight and warm like a double shot-glass full of bathwater. They rocked back and forth, shaking the chair, almost tipping the fucking thing over. Red sucked his fingers and moaned as he humped her. He bent his knees and plowed upward into that pussy. He felt the coming ejaculation forming in his groin and stroked his cock harder, moved his fingers faster along the head and shaft. His cock readied, about to explode.

The bathroom door opened and a couple of assholes walked in, and Roger stopped.

"How was your weekend, Todd?" Phil the flunky said to his boss.

"Not bad," Todd answered. He unzipped his fly and pissed. Phil followed the lead. He did everything Todd did. "I didn't do much. Some yard work. Watched the big game. I gave it to the wife a little, so she'd quit nagging me." Todd and Phil laughed like a couple little girls. "You?"

"About the same. I watched the big game too. I love football."

"Me too. I live for Football."

"Football is the best," Phil added.

Todd coughed and flushed and zipped his fly. Phil did too.

"So Todd, what's the whole deal with today, just so I know?"

"The deal is this," Todd began.

Roger watched them through a crack in the stall door. Todd stood before the bathroom mirror, looking at himself and fixing his tie. He was a good-looking guy. Tall and blonde. A fucking Ken doll. The CEO loved Todd.

"We have a meeting at one o'clock, after the whole team has gone to lunch. Skip will be there. So will our attorney and a psychiatric councilor, just in case anyone loses it. I'll be the one to talk. I'll tell the team that because of certain budgetary concerns we have to let half of them go."

"Sounds simple," Phil added.

"Not really. Letting people go is hard business, even if it's ultimately good for the corporation. I don't look forward to these things. But Skip trusts me, and I'd go to war for that man."

"Me too," Phil said. He sounded like a good little lap dog.

Phil stepped into Roger's view. He was an attractive guy, too: dark-hair close cut with well-kept sideburns and nary a trace of stubble on his face. Roger often saw Phil with the redheaded secretary. They went to lunch sometimes, or he hung around her desk telling banal jokes.

Roger hated Phil. He daydreamed of strangling the prick.

"So who's getting the ax?"

Todd laughed. "Philly, now you know I can't tell you that."

"Come on, Todd. I won't say. You can trust me. After all, we were frat brothers. Hell, you even got me this job. Now why would I go and jeopardize that?"

"I don't know," Todd continued.

"Come on."

"Alright, you've broken me."

They laughed. Roger let go of his wilted cock and listened.

"Williams is going. So is McCabe. Oh, and Darren Bachorski, the one who never goes to the corporate functions, he's fucking gone too."

"What about Charice Johnson?" Phil asked.

Todd laughed. "We can't fire a woman, let alone a black one. The ACLU and the NAACP would be all over Skip's ass. Nah, Charice gets to stay. We're dumping off Roger Castleman instead."

Phil laughed. "It's about time. Christ how long has that fat fucker been with the company?"

"Seventeen years. According to Skip, seventeen long years. Roger is actually the one person I'm looking forward to getting rid of. He's a blight on the company. He comes into work every day looking unwashed and unshaved, and most of the time he smells like a distillery. I hate the sight of him in my boardroom. I've had my eye on dumping Castleman ever since Skip gave me the job." Todd laughed. "Remember when he was our boss? But the time has come, Phillyboy. Production is down and so is the stock. We have too much middle-management cluttering up the halls. So Castleman is out the door. You can't argue with the bottom line."

"You sure can't," Phil said. Both goons laughed again and continued checking themselves out in the mirror.

"Christ, I've never sat in on a firing before."

"A reorganization," Todd said.


"We're calling the firings a reorganization. Skip hates the word fire. He says it's too negative. I agree."

"Oh okay," Phil said. "Well I've never been in on a reorganization."

Todd nodded.

"But money is the bottom line," Phil continued. "That's why we got into this business."

"You said it, Philly. So anyway," Todd continued, "after we have that meeting, Skip is taking me out for dinner and a few drinks. He thinks it'll calm my nerves."

"Skip is an all right kinda guy," Phil said.

"Yeah, well he understands how tough it is to be in my shoes. Hey you wanna come? I'm sure Skip won't mind. The dinner and the drinks are on the corporate account. Plus it might be good for you to meet the old man, you know, away from today."

"Really?" Phil said. The asshole sounded excited. "Hey Todd, I'm glad you're making those cuts. They'll really help the company out. At least you're not getting rid of that redhead."

"Are you kidding?"Todd asked. "Do you honestly think I'd unload my favorite piece of ass candy?"

"You kill me, Todd," Phil said. "Maybe next weekend we can get together and watch the game?"

"Sure," Todd answered. "But it's gotta be the later game. I have a church function in the morning."

"I understand."

They left the bathroom. Roger sat on the can until his legs got numb. Then he grabbed his cock and messaged it again, working himself up. The redhead leaned over the chair, Roger behind her, sweating, giving it to her hard. He stroked his cock. In no time the juices flowed again. He stuck a finger in the redhead's rosy asshole and she moaned. She sucked his fingers and looked back, smiling. This time Roger would have her the whole way. This time he'd get his.

place to be

© John Grochalski 2008