OpenGoal.TV, submitted by Google. "This site endeavours to collect same-sex romantic/erotic stories about football players and/or personalities." Needless to say, by "football" they really mean "soccer," so those of you looking for good Tom Brady/Drew Bledsoe rape tales are going to have to look elsewhere. Instead, this site features quality writing such as:
I was once covered in the warm glow of his love whenever he was with me, now it seems as if invisible barriers hold me back. And sometimes I wonder whether it would be different if he hadn't committed that foul against Argentina. And I don't know.
He cleared his throat and tried to regain some composure - but didn't move from the smooth strength of Keano's arms, "Because I'm not kissing you again till you shave."
Keano laughed, rubbing his stubbled jaw. "It's not that bad."
"Well, we can't all have smooth baby soft skin, now can we?" said Keano, stroking Becks' hairless chin.
Since I'm ethnocentric and have no idea who any of these people are, here's some Donovan McNabb/Terrell Owens fan fiction I just crafted:
Donovan McNabb had a bad game. He did not throw a touchdown pass to his friend Terrell Owens. He was very sad in the locker room. Terrell Owens came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around him. He was sad because he did not catch a touchdown pass from his friend Donovan McNabb.
"You look sad Donovan," Terrell said. "Would you like some Chunky Soup?"
"NO!" Donovan screamed, throwing his helmet into a well. "I am two depressed!"
"I am depressed to!" Terrell said. He put his arm around Donovan. "You know Donovan..." he said slowly. "You may be number 5 on the roster... but you are number 1 in my heart."
"Oh T.O.," Donovan replied cryilily with a tear. "That means so much to me. You mean so much to me. I am so glad you left the Ravens to be with me, I will treat you right unlike Jeff Garcia."
"Let's not talk about the past," T.O. Said, hushing Donovan. "I may not be your Chunky Soup, but I will fill you up right."
"Oh T.O.!" Donovan proclaimed as they passionately embraced. "I love the way you receive. You make my heart soar like an eagle!"
"How ironic since we play for the Eagles!"
The too of them laughed together and fell asleep in each others arms.
Now isn't that sweet?
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
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