Hoots and Hooters

I still remember the first time I met Judas.

I was on a camping trip with Galopagus and his sister, Hortense, who was visiting from Texas. We had driven from Vancouver up to Banff, and we were camping up on the side of the mountain. It was gorgeous, and we were having a great time doing some nude hikes during the day and hitting the clubs in Banff at night. There were a lot of Japanese tourists there, and a lot of them were really hot.

I had taken a week off from Hymns for the Holy. I had been working there for about a year at that point, and I had known Galopagus for almost that long. He had become something of a mentor to me, and a very good friend. I still felt very grateful to him for opening me up to the world of sexuality. I wasn't really attracted to him, but occasionally we would give each other hand jobs or he would use the jibber-jabber on my penis stump.

The day I met Judas, we were eating dinner at the Cariboo Lodge, a rustic restaurant that served a selection of freshly killed game. We wanted to get some protein in our systems because we were planning on attending a large party that was happening at a house on the outskirts of town.

Just as I was biting into my mountain goat steak, I saw the most striking man I had ever seen in my life walk into the restaurant. I will try to describe his appearance, but I am afraid I cannot really do it justice. I have included a picture so that you can see his magnificence.

Basically, he had the body of a regular man, albeit a magnificent one. When I first saw him he was wearing a black T-shirt with the words "Chris Copter" on it. But what I really noticed was his head. He had the head of an owl. I really don't know how else to put it. I am not saying his features reminded me of an owl or anything like that. It was actually an owl's head, with feathers and a beak and everything. I was bewildered, and a little fascinated.

He walked up to us, and said "Hello, I believe we have a mutual friend. My name is Chris Fartoculus. I go by the name Judas. I believe you know my father, Garf Fartoculus."

Garf was the bouncer at Orgy Dan's Pussy Palisade, the private sex lair we all frequented in East Vancouver.

"Why yes we certainly do know Garf," I said. "My name is John Dingleberry, otherwise known as John the Baptist."

We ended up inviting Judas to go to the party with us. He was a jovial fellow, who often came out with intriguing pieces of wisdom. While we were walking towards the party, he stated "Never drop the soap."

I was enthralled. I was envisioning what it would be like to engage in sexual relations with this man. What would it be like to kiss an owl beak? I wanted to find out.

The party ended up being in this huge mansion, and the action was happening in the large backyard, which backed right onto the edge of a mountain. There was a gargantuan pool and several hot tubs. Some people were nude, and others wore skimpy bathing suits.

And then something really fucked up happened.

I looked over at Judas, and I saw that his penis was out. But the thing is, it wasn't a normal penis. It actually looked exactly like a live fetus. It had a fully formed face, with eyes that seemed to twitch, and when I looked closely, I saw that the penis itself had its own penis, which itself was also shaped like a tiny, almost microscopic fetus.

"It goes on forever, my friend," Judas said when he saw me looking at it. "Cool eh?"

I was actually vaguely appalled. I mean I was a pretty open-minded guy, but this was one of the most fucked up things I had ever seen.

All of a sudden, I heard a different voice coming from the fetus-cock. It was sort of squeaky, much like a chipmunk.

"Don't be scared of me," it said. "I am here to open up your perception of the universe. After tonight, your life will change."

All night that night, Judas, Galopagus, the fetus-cock and I sat in one of the hot tubs and discussed advanced quantum physics and philosophy, and by the time morning came, my vision of the universe had forever altered.

Greetings and Salutations!

Hello, and welcome to my blog. My name is John Dingleberry, but I also go by the name John the Baptist. You will find out why shortly.

The reason I started this blog is because for the past 5 years, I have been living a double life. During the day, I work for a non-profit organization that writes Christian hymns and sells them to Catholic schools and churches. With the profits, we buy furniture and clothing for families in need. I truly enjoy my job writing hymns, and I feel strongly that what we are doing for the unfortunate families is right.

However, at night, I leave the world of Christianity and charity, and I become someone different entirely. I enter a world of decadence, sexual adventures, perversity and sin. I have never told anyone about any of this, and it is time to get it off my chest.

I will tell you how it all started. It was a sunny summer evening, about 5 years ago, and I had just started working at Hymns for the Holy. I was about 20 years old at the time.

I was the last person in the office, working on the finishing touches of a hymn. Finally I wrote the last line. Here is the hymn I completed that day. It is still special to me because it marks the beginning of my double life:

This Evil Cycle

A hymn by John (the Baptist) Dingleberry

One who sins,
Will always sin.
They will pass it on
To their next of kin.
This evil cycle will never end.
Everyone will be Satan’s friend!
Who will praise God in the end?

(chorus)

So, you must…
Cast off your sins!
Throw them aside!
Take off your masks,
That hide your lies!

We must learn to emulate Him,
Or Satan will tear you limb from limb!
God is decent, holy and good.
He only wants you to act like Jesus would!

(chorus)

Don’t accept apples from snakes that talk,
For they are not of God!
You must tell this snake to take a walk!
If he walks,
You must realize,
That snakes don’t walk!
They slither and slide!
If you see this walking snake,
You must run and hide!

(chorus)

Remember this hymn,
For if you want to win,
Cast off your sins,
Before it’s too late!
Or, you’ll never see those pearly gates!

As I was sitting there feeling satisfied with my work, and getting ready to go home, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" I shouted cheerfully.

A young man who appeared to be homeless walked in. He was wearing dishevelled clothes and he smelled a little bit like burnt hyena fur. I was used to these types of people dropping by. We were a charitable organization after all.

"How can I help you, young man?" I asked kindly, trying not to inhale through my nose. "Would you like some food, perchance, or can I say a prayer for you?"

"Well, actually, I was hoping you would come with me, I want to show you something," said the man.

I was puzzled, yet slightly intrigued. "What is it?" I asked.

"You'll see," he said. "Trust me, you will not be disappointed. My name is Galopagus Dickout."

"Nice to meet you, Galopagus, I am John Dingleberry." I had not yet acquired the nickname John the Baptist at that point.

I decided to go with him and see what he wanted to show me. Hell, why not, I thought. It's always useful to interact with the community.

Hymns for the Holy is located on Hastings street, in the worst and poorest part of Vancouver. Galopagus and I walked east for quite a ways, and I grew more and more curious about what he wanted to show me. It was clear, however, that he was not going to reveal anything until we got there. I didn't really mind, it was a beautiful day out and it was nice to get some fresh air and exercise. We didn't talk much, but it wasn't uncomfortable or anything. In fact, I felt extremely at ease with this man.

Finally, as we approached Clark Drive, he said, "It's right up here."

We were in sort of an industrial area and he led me to what looked like an abandoned warehouse. However I could hear some loud music coming from inside. Sounded a bit like Van Halen. I wasn't a huge fan, my taste ran more towards gospel, but I did have an appreciation for some pop music as well.

When we went through the door, the first thing I saw was an obese Chinese man, who was bald, except for the word "bacon" tatooed several times on his scalp. He appeared to be some sort of bouncer. Strangely, he was naked except for what looked like a ladies' stocking hanging from his penis.

"Oh, it's you, Galopagus, come on in," said the man, then he turned to me. "Hello there sir, my name is Garf. Welcome."

The bouncer stepped aside and allowed us to enter what looked like a giant atrium. I was expecting something like a nightclub, but it was actually a giant red room with high ceilings and skylights, many plants and trees of all shapes and sizes, and in the middle, a waterfall flowing into a giant pool.

There were a few people frolicking in the pool, and they all appeared to be naked. There were also some large fish and turtles swimming in the pool. One man was riding on the back of a large turtle, slapping the turtle's shell with his penis. A woman was thrusting a large live catfish in and out of her vagina.

In another corner, an elderly man was hanging upside-down, his ankles attached to a tree. A woman dressed in a purple leather bikini was slapping his testicles with a tennis racket.

"What the hell is this?!" I demanded. "Why did you bring me to this sinful place?"

"Well, John, the truth is, I know all about you," said Galopagus. "I know that half of your penis was cut off when you were 5 years old in an accident in the restaurant your father owned. I know that you decided to lead a life of Christianity and celibacy because you thought you would never experience sexual pleasure."

I was bewildered, and slightly appalled. How did he know all this about me? As far as I knew, nobody except my parents were aware of what had happened to my penis. After the accident, they had tried to convince me to undergo surgery to become a girl, so that at least I would be sexually functional. But instead I decided that I didn't need sex, and would devote my life to God.

"Look, Galopagus, I don't know where you are getting your information, but this is completely inappropriate," I said sternly. "I am going to have to consider reporting this place to the authorities."

"Before you do that, John, I have one more thing to show you," Galapagus said in a confident, almost cocksure voice.

He then pulled a large metal contraption out of his pocket. It looked a little bit like one of those things you use to slice apples, but it had a flashing light and what looked like suction cups all over it.

"This is an invention of mine," Galapagus stated. "It's called a jibber jabber. I invented it for you. It's for men whose penises have been cut off or injured, to help them experience sexual pleasure and orgasm. Please keep an open mind and try it out before you make your decision."

I was still appalled, yet also slightly intrigued. I had never in my life had the pleasure of having an erection or an orgasm, and if this thing really worked, could it hurt to try it out at least once? "Well okay," I said.

Galopagus then started removing his dishevelled clothing to reveal a lime green bodysuit that left little to the imagination. He actually had an impressive physique, despite his hyena-like stench. He led me over to a large trampoline in the corner, and instructed me to take my pants off, lie down and make myself comfortable on the trampoline.

I was a little embarassed having him see the stump of what was my penis, but as soon as he put the jibber jabber on it, the sensations I started getting were so pleasurable that I forgot all else. In about 5 minutes, I had my first, explosive orgasm. There must have been a lot of sperm saved up over a lifetime, and because of my penile injury, I could not stop the flow of urine from coming out at the same time as the cock-snot. Altogether, I ejaculated approximately 8 litres of the mixture, all over Galopagus's head.

And that's how my life of decadence and sin started. That's also how I got the nickname John the Baptist. I didn't find out until much later how Galopagus knew about me and what had happened to my penis.

Stay tuned to hear some more stories about my double life.