What INTJs Think During and After Making Out

Hey, everyone.

So, as I promised, here's my blog entry on what INTJs think during and after making out. Although, I was thinking about it just now and two thoughts occurred to me:
1. Most of these thoughts come from the very first time I made out, and so being a rookie, it may be that these are the same sort of thoughts that all rookies have, especially since I'm not sure I thought any of these the second time I made out,
2. These thoughts that I had may not be all that different from what other people think. I mean, it's not like INTJs think about astrophysics when they make out, but there is something that strikes me as odd about the whole experience.

See, I don't really know what most other people think about when they're making out. Do they have a goal in mind, like is making out just foreplay for them, or are there some people who neck just for the sake of it? I'm sure people make out for both reasons, but what's really amazing to me is how clear all these thoughts were. Like, I didn't feel so caught up in the moment that I was aroused beyond the capacity for rational thought. Perhaps that's the only difference between other people and INTJs, or between others and NT's. But we really should look at my specific thoughts within the context that they happened before deciding that.

"I Really Need A Girlfriend"

Let's set the stage first: 2012 is the best year I've ever had for dating and it was the last year I had where I actually dated. I don't know what it was about that year, but it seemed like I didn't have to go all that long until I tripped over a new girl. That was my last semester at Macomb, and there were actually two girls in my German class that I dated. Well, I dated one and the other narrowly slipped through my fingers.

Going into the summer, I purchased the video game Lollipop Chainsaw for my sister for her birthday and we played it to death. In the game, there's a stage at a high school where you save numerous students. One of the students you save says, "I really need a girlfriend," and I decided to use that as my title for a personal ad on Craigslist. (Unfortunately, CL doesn't do personals anymore since FOSTA was signed into law.)

Anyway, I got a response from a girl named Kim. She was friendly enough, but she was anxious about meeting someone from CL; she didn't want to run into a "Craigslist Killer," and she was concerned about my ad's title. I explained where I got it from and that was that, or so I thought. But that doesn't become relevant until much later.

For our first date, I took her to my local archery range and taught her how to shoot. Later, we went to dinner at a local restaurant where she poked mild fun at me for not saying much. Then as we parted, I asked her if she wanted a hug, which seemed to thrill the hell out of her for some reason. Seriously, it was the most emotion and excitement she showed all day. Overall, the date was really friendly and pleasant. Looking back on it now, knowing what I know and knowing what I think now, I think that probably should've been the only date we had since it was so underwhelming. But I was inexperienced and perhaps I had piqued her curiosity.

A week later we had our second date and we went miniature golfing, and she was... different. On our first date, she was amicable but aloof. On the second date, she was much more hands-on and excitable. At one point, we were talking about music and I mentioned I liked the band Disturbed which prompted her to give me an enthusiastic hug from behind. At the time, I didn't think anything of it and just appreciated the fact she was so openly affectionate. But things escalated from there. Later, she would explain that because she hadn't seen me in a week, her heart grew fonder. But...

Kim wasn't from around where I lived and had agreed to drive down to see me. She didn't know anything about the illustrious city that is Roseville, MI, and I took her on a small tour that included the local Dunham's, which is an underrated, mostly unknown sporting goods chain. Add that to your list of pro dating tips: Take them to a crappy, sporting goods store. But despite the setting, she was even more hands on than she had been. I don't remember anything specific, but I do remember grabbing and tickling her in vengeance. Obviously, we were about two steps removed from playing "Grab Ass," but being a rookie, I couldn't read the signs.

From there, I proceeded to take her to Cold Stone and we got ice cream... eventually. There was some light making out in the car. I don't remember how it started, which bums me out because my first kiss was in there. I'd like to be able to remember it, but I can't. I just know that we played around in the car in a public parking lot in the middle of the day for about fifteen or twenty minutes. A couple of times, she suggested we go and get ice cream, but she didn't seem all that eager to leave the car. She seemed quite content to lay on her side (I had bench seats in my car), and occasionally sneak a few kisses from me. Eventually, we went inside.

Once inside, I joked she had a bunch of hickies on her neck. She immediately became bashful and asking if I was serious. I was surprised how embarrassed she looked, but she had clammed up so quickly that I couldn't help thinking her reaction was terribly cute. I got her order, and then she went to bathroom to check her neck. She came back, we ate our ice cream, sharing our own with each other, and then we hopped back in the car for some more light kissing. But the area was too public. So, we went out driving until we found a shady spot beneath a big tree in an empty parking lot. I stopped there, and we spent the next two hours or more in that one spot. Now, we get to the good part.

Tonsil Hockey

Parked in the shade with my windows rolled down, I removed my glasses and we picked up where we left off. And... it was fun. But like I said above, I was never so into the moment that I lost my exterior perspective on the situation.

Not only was that the day of my first kiss, but also my first French kiss. Strangely enough, though I had never negotiated the maneuver, I didn't go in completely blind. I don't remember totally where I learned the technique, but while we were kissing, I opened my mouth slightly and licked her lips. At first, she sort of resisted. I don't know if she was playing around or if she was trying to prevent herself from losing control, but she didn't seem all that committed to the cause as it didn't make much for her tongue to come out and play. And this is where my first really clear thought in a series of clear thoughts showed up.

Kim had a strange French kissing technique--she would flick her tongue from side-to-side real fast, sort of like a snake, but in the wrong plane. I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I thought, "I wonder if this would be better if she stopped doing that." So, I told her to stop it; not harshly, but it was a directive. And... she didn't. I may have asked her a second time, I don't remember, but it still didn't work.

(Course, that's not to say my technique was perfect. I did at one point activate her gag reflex because I want too far back.)

Say My Name

Anyway, the necking was hot'n'heavy... sort of. At one point, she straddles me, I suddenly got the idea, "Hey. You know how in love scenes, one member of the couple sometimes asks the other to say their name. I imagine that's because it's arousing. Let's see if it works." So I stopped and told Kim, "Say my name," and she did, and... I didn't feel any different.

I think I also had her say "please" or something along those lines, but again, I didn't get a rise out of it. And as we continued, I just couldn't stop thinking, "Well, that's disappointing. I thought there was something to that. Oh, well..."

A Little Drooly

We didn't make out the whole two hours plus. There were at least two breaks. During those times, she would curl up or lie on top of me, and fall asleep. I could tell from her breathing and the fact she lightly drooled on my arm. I didn't mind, but I do remember thinking, "This is incredible. She's so comfortable with me that she can fall asleep on top of me. And this is only our second date." I mean, I guess a woman would have to be comfortable with a man to make out with him in the first place, and in a car of all places, but I was quite impressed and slightly bewildered by how trusting she was.

Her Favorite Underwear

Now, this is interesting. I didn't think much of it back then, but a few months ago, I was perusing Pinterest and I came across this pin.

I didn't think much of this because it has never been relevant in my life, so I decided to file it away for later reference. But then, when I was thinking about this blog post, I had a brain wave. Now, while I can't remember what sort of bra Kim was wearing that day, I did get to see her underwear. She didn't show me them, nor was she ever bottomless, but her pants did slide around a lot. They looked like casual business slacks, but they were made from the same stretchy material yoga pants are. As a result, whenever she lay down or shifted around, her pants would become tangle and either descend or her underwear would ride up.

Now, in my high school days as a Chatroom Playboy, it was often my pleasure to ask some girls what their measurements were and what sort of underwear they had on. I posed the latter question to Kim and she responded, "They're not a thong. They're just normal panties." And they were, more or less. From my recollection, they were cut like briefs because they had a lot of back coverage, but when they rode up, because Kim had a superb derriere, they would then become a little more cheeky. How did I know this if she never took off her pants? Well, I won't go into that. There are some details of this story that are a little too steamy to tell here. But besides what she told me above, she also mentioned that they were her favorite pair. Again, I didn't think anything of it at the time, but going back to the pin, my brain begins to tick.

While her bra and underwear didn't match, she was wearing her favorite pair, and the way I figure it, a girl doesn't put on her favorite underwear without reason. Why would she? A girl wouldn't wear her favorite pair on an ordinary day? Wouldn't she want to save them for a special occasion?

So, I've begun to wonder, is it possible that she woke up that day, knew she had a date with me, and was already in the mood to neck? Knowing that she might be an intimate position or that she might venture into one willingly, did she purposely put on her favorite pair in preparation for that? Perhaps.

The other thought I had was that maybe she put them on by coincidence, but by dint of their presence, she felt extra cute or sexy that day, and on her way to the mini-golf course, she got herself worked up. I may never know the truth, but I will file this incident and thought away for later reference.

"My Busy Hands"

As I mentioned, there are some details about this encounter that I feel are too steamy to go public, which is where most of my busy hands appear in. But before you start jumping to conclusions, I'll let you know now that my hands were always on the outside of her body, and other than our clothes getting twisted or slipping downward, we at no point ever removed them. This was only the second date and it was the middle of the day. There wasn't going to be any hanky-panky. Especially because my brother would strangle me if I ever did do anything really sexual in a car. (He has powers.)

Anyway, as we continued making out, I had my hand on her neck. I already knew at the time that I gave quite good massages--in fact, one of my favorite things to do is to give girls massages. Regrettably, I haven't done it in a while. But anyway, as I had my hand on the nape of her neck, I squeezed and rubbed it. She pulled away and moaned. I then had the thought "What would happen if I rubbed harder?" Well, she simply moaned more and louder. I would later use what I learned here in one of the too-steamy-to-recount instances, and that would have quite an effect on her, but if I have any advice to pass on the men out there, it would be that some light massaging while making out does wonders.

Center Console Chaos

Okay, so this incident didn't happen that day. If you remember, I mentioned my car had bench seats, meaning it couldn't have had a center console. This actually happened in my father's car, which at the time was a new Dodge Challenger, and if you know anything about those cars' interiors, you'll know they're a bit cramped. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

About a week after we made out, she tried to break up with me. I didn't want that. I was so close to finally having a girlfriend and I was going to fight for it. In a desperate move, I asked her to meet me at Dodge Park at that moment. To save myself some gas, I borrowed my father's car and about thirty minutes later, I met her there.

We went for a walk down some of the trails and despite my desperation, I was very cordial, almost business-like in my approach. Her reasoning for wanting to break up with me was twofold: the lesser reason was that to her it didn't seem like we had enough in common, meanwhile, the better reason was that she felt I was placing too much importance on the act of getting a girlfriend and not putting enough emphasis into finding the right girl to be my girlfriend, which is a lesson I have carried with me to this day.

But something interesting happened that day. See, in between the make out sesh and the break up, we had had a third date where we met up at Dodge Park before I took her to my archery league night (she didn't stick around after it began). At that third date, she gave me a strong, almost painful kiss to show how much she missed me, but there was something about that date where I turned her off. She went from being very affectionate and cuddly to very distant. I tried to grab her hand at one point and she visibly pulled away--it wasn't subtle in the least. So what happened?

I don't entirely remember, but I think she asked me some more questions to get to know me, and while I answered them, which is where she came to the conclusion that we didn't have enough in common, I didn't ask her what her thoughts were on it. It wasn't a conversation; there was no back-and-forth. However, when I had rushed to see her to stop the break up, there was plenty of back-and-forth, plenty of conversation. As a result, she went from being a cold fish to very handsy and affectionate again. At one point, she said she was going to sit on the ground beneath a tree. I said okay, but as she went to sit, she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me down with her. As you can imagine, I was confused.

From there, we eventually went back to my father's car where I tried to sneak a few kisses out of her. She was quite resistant, but apparently I have a make out face that she couldn't refuse, which is weird to me because that face felt depressing and not romantic at all. She surrendered a few kisses to my cheeks, but that wasn't good enough for me. I never really got what I was after, but some how in the scuffle, she found her way to laying on top of me again. But like I said about Dodge Challengers, they're cramped due to their ponderous center console. And while it was nice to have her laying on top of me, threatening to nap again, I couldn't stop myself from thinking, "There's no way in hell she's comfortable enough to sleep like that. Not laying over the console, the shifter, and the handbrake like that. Not possible." And that is why, if I have any other advice to give, I highly recommend cars with bench seats for making out in, even if they're sh*t-kickers.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Despite how that night ended up, Kim and I didn't stay together. At first, I thought we had made up, but when I hadn't heard from her, I guessed the obvious. I'm still pretty effing confused though on how the relationship ended. How many people make out, or come close to, when they break up with somebody? My guess is not many.

However, Kim did teach me several important lessons about myself, as I've already mentioned, as well as gave me some great feedback on what sort of boyfriend I could be, and how good I am at making out. One of the things she told me was that I don't have to be a "Craigslist killer," that I'm normal enough to approach girls the normal way. But to be honest, I do miss her and I would like to see her one more time. If for nothing else, just to see if I can sneak a few more kisses out of her.

Also, I hope this didn't come off as bragging; I don't think myself the only INTJ to have made out. No, my purpose was to merely illustrate how INTJs have a different perspective during intimate situations. While it's been said that INTJs are really good at sex because they stop thinking and start feeling, and everything they do, they do to please their partner, but this was never completely true for me. Most of my actions, despite my inexperience, were propelled by instinct, but I never let it control me. I was master of my domain the whole time.

*****



Well, you guys, that's it. That's the tale of how I first made out and the unusual thoughts that occurred to me during the session. If you enjoyed that tale and you want to read more, please consider joining my mailing list or even supporting me on Patreon. For a buck a month, I'll keep the good times rolling and make sure to make my blog a priority rather than neglecting it at times.

As for my next post, I'm either going to write about whether or not INTJs are dangerous or what it's like being friends with an INTJ. I might keep the sentimental train rolling. But I will only be doing one big post a week now as I will be getting busier as I look for a part-time job and thanks to my memes, I can produce plenty of quick, high-quality content, so I needn't kill myself anymore to write two posts a week. Plus, I have a buttload of writing to do. So, until next week...

Keep writing, my friends.

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Flash Stories & Poetry Day 34: Romance "Bewildering Benjamin"

 

Hey, everyone.

Sorry this wasn't up earlier. Saturdays are always difficult to write on for some reason. Hopefully, after the holidays, things will get easier. We'll see.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's genre is... Romance!

Cool. I actually romance... to an extent. Like I don't tend to like the movies on the Hallmark channel, but I do enjoy in my video games and anime. I don't know what the difference is. And writing romance in my own books is one of my favorite things to write. Let's see if I can spark that magic on my blog.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon. The birds were chirping, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the freshly fallen snow looked like a postcard. It was too bad then that Elizabeth had volunteered to help decorate her church that day for Christmas. She looked longingly out of a window in the church hall while assignments and partners were being given out. "Elizabeth!" someone called.

"Here!" she said.

"You'll be hanging garland today. You'll need to head down to the old school rooms and fetch the boxes. Room 105, I think it is. Benjamin will help you out."

"Okay," said Elizabeth. Then a crank in her mind turned over. "Wait? Benjamin?"

"That's right," said a manly voice next to her.

Elizabeth turned and faced Bewildering Benjamin, the strangest fellow in the entire parish.

"How do you do, Elizabeth?" he said. "I am Benjamin."

"It's a pleasure," she said uneasily.

"Well, then, we better get a move on." Benjamin led the way, taking long strides into the hallway that connected the hall to the school.

Elizabeth followed a good nine feet behind him. Benjamin had had a reputation speaking little, and often staring at people. And when he did speak, he was often curt and direct. Most people ignored him, but they couldn't deny he had a true devotion to the Lord. He came to church every week, sat in the same pew, and always volunteered when he could. This made him appear devoted and docile which had won him the favor of the pastor and the little, old church ladies.

Elizabeth had never spoken to him; she had only seen him church. She couldn't substantiate any of the rumors of his queer behavior. She had never seen him stare, but the few times they had had accidental eye contact, there was a strange neutral, but also far away look in his eye. Where was he in his mind when he did that?

"Here we are," said Benjamin suddenly. "105." He grabbed the doorknob and moved forward. "Ah!" he said, ramming his shoulder into the door.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"The door's locked?"

"I don't think so," said Benjamin, trying the knob again. He struggled to turn it.

"I'm pretty sure it's locked. I'll go get some--"

The knob clicked and the entire door shuttered.

"There we go," said Benjamin, opening the door.

Elizabeth gaped. "How did you know it wasn't locked?"

"It didn't feel locked. There was give in the knob."

"Oh."

"Let's find those boxes of garland." Benjamin stepped into the classroom and flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. He tried it a few more times. "Great. Well, at least it's sunny today."

Despite the fact the lights weren't working, the room had large paned windows on the other wall. There was more than enough light to see.

"So, where's the garland?" asked Elizabeth.

Benjamin turned to face the wall next to them. It was actually a chalkboard that ran the length of room. But above it was an area that looked like it was being used for storage. There were dozens and dozens of boxes. "Guess we got our work cut out for us," he said.

"I'll say," said Elizabeth, stepping up to the wall. The chalkboard was slightly taller than her and the entire storage space was above her head. She lifted her arm and her hand barely touched the bottom of the nearest box. Benjamin on the other hand was able to look at the storage space in the eye.

"I guess I'll hand the boxes down to you, and we'll conduct a search that way."

"I suppose."

Benjamin grabbed the first box and handed it off to her. Elizabeth set it on the ground and then took the next box from him. When they had a few of the boxes down, they inspected their contents. They found decorations, but they all looked Hawaiian themed. "What is this?" asked Elizabeth.

"Vacation Bible School decorations," explained Benjamin.

"Oh."

"But, why would they keep them alongside their Christmas decorations. That's weird."

"That is weird."

Benjamin and Elizabeth put the boxes back, and searched the next few in the same manner. Again, they weren't the right decorations. They had the same problem with the next selection.

"Oh!" whined Elizabeth. "This is stupid."

"This is inefficient," admitted Benjamin.

"There must be fifty boxes up here."

"Easy."

Elizabeth pouted. This would take a lot of work before they even began decorating. She looked over at Benjamin. He had that blank stare again. "Benjamin. Something wrong?"

"Hm? No. I was just thinking that if the shelving... space? Up here was strong enough, I could pick you up and put you on top of it, then you could look for the garland up there."

"I... don't like that idea."

"Okay."

"If only we had a step stool."

"There might be one around here."

"Where?"

Benjamin turned the other way and checked the closet that would have used to keep the teacher's supplies. He stooped down and stood back up, balancing something on this hand. "Yo," he said.

"Incredible," said Elizabeth, looking at the folded up step stool. "How did you know?"

"I didn't. It was just a guess."

"A very intuitive guess."

"I suppose," said Benjamin, handing her the step stool.

Elizabeth opened it up and climbed it. She was now able to see into the shelving space. "This is much better," she said, checking a box's contents.

"Glad to have helped," said Benjamin, checking boxes himself.

A silence fell among them. Elizabeth couldn't stand it. She felt terribly awkward, but she didn't know what to talk about with Benjamin. She didn't have any starting points. If only there was some place to start.

"Is that your natural hair color?"

"What?" said Elizabeth.

"Is that your natural hair color?"

Elizabeth grabbed her long, red hair. "Yes."

"Very nice."

Elizabeth got a bemused smile. "Why?"

"I like red hair. I wish more women had it. I actually went to school with quite a few red haired women. They've all died their hair now. Terrible shame that."

"Why?"

"Because natural redheads are so rare! No redhead should ever die her hair."

"Oh." Elizabeth smiled to herself. "You like my hair?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Elizabeth was a little disappointed. She really wish he had said more about her hair. She reached up for a box and paused for a minute, looking at him. He was so passive, and yet, he wasn't cold as ice. His opinion on redheads had quite strong. "Do you... do you ever look at me in church because of my hair?"

"Sometimes. Other times it's because I'm looking at your... your... um, never mind."

Elizabeth looked at Benjamin. He looked nervous and a little embarrassed. "Looking at my what?"

"Never mind. It isn't important."

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and smiled. He was checking her out. She giggled to herself and went to grab the next box, but her hands missed. She faked herself out and as she went to grab the shelf's edge, her hand fell between two boxes, and she tipped over the stool. She cried out.

"Are you alright?!"

"My hand's stuck! I can't get it out." Elizabeth's hand got stuck between the two boxes and with stool tipped over, she was now dangling over the shelf by her arm.

Benjamin rushed to her side. He tried to move the boxes apart, but they wouldn't move due to boxes on either side of the them.

"Hurry!" whined Elizabeth.

"Um..." Benjamin looked at Elizabeth's hand stuck between the two boxes. He then looked down at her and squatted. He grabbed her around the hips and lifted her up. She was able to move her hand deeper in and then up and out of the gap. Benjamin set her down.

"Ow..." said Elizabeth, rubbing her hand.

"Are you hurt?" asked Benjamin. He grabbed her hand and examined it, before turning it over and looking at the back of it.

"No, I'm fine," she wailed.

"Do you want me to kiss it?"

Elizabeth looked up at Benjamin; he was grinning like an idiot and snickering. Elizabeth looked down at her hand and smiled herself. Not only did he have passion, but he also had a sense of humor. "It couldn't hurt," said Elizabeth, lifting her hand.

Benjamin stopped laughing. But then he gingerly took her hand in his fingers and brought it to his lips, kissing it ever so softly.

Elizabeth was terribly embarrassed. "Thank you," she squeaked.

"No problem."

Benjamin didn't say anything else to her as he right her step stool and started working again. Elizabeth quickly set about her work too. She had no idea how to comprehend what just happened. Bewildering Benjamin, the strangest man in the parish, had just kissed her booboo. And he did it so tenderly, Elizabeth thought he might have been in love with her. Is that why he was always looking at her in church, or did he just think she had a great butt?

After a few more minutes of silence, Elizabeth snapped. "You're strange," she said.

"That's not news to me."

Elizabeth jumped.

"They call me 'Bewildering Benjamin,' ya know? Credit to them for the consonance, but I prefer to think of myself as being esoteric or eccentric. Well, whatever. But, why do you say I'm strange?"

"Well, you're really quiet..."

"Oh. So for the same reason the others say it, huh?"

"Well, yes, but you're more than quiet. You're funny, opinionated, and... charming."

"So?"

"Well, no one would've guessed it from the way you act."

"Silence is just one of my personality traits. We can't all be one-trick ponies. Besides, aren't there multiple facets to yourself? Are you just a girl with red hair?"

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset. I was just making a point. I'm sorry if you thought I was yelling."

"You weren't yelling. It's just your words seemed a little harsh. But... your tone was perfectly reasonable." Elizabeth shook her head. "You are bewildering. You can make something mean sound perfectly normal."

"I'm a man of many talents."

Elizabeth smiled. "I guess so." She grabbed a box that was a little deeper on the shelf than the others. It was heavy, so she had shimmy it over to the edge. It was also taller than the others, so she had to tip it on its side to open it and get a look inside. But as she tipped it, it turned out to be heavier than she thought. It slid forward and hit her in the face. She squealed, and thought she was going to fall over, but an arm around her back caught her. Then with one hand, Benjamin pushed the box back onto the shelf.

"Are you alright?"

Elizabeth sulked. "No..." she said, rubbing her forehead.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Mainly my pride..."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about that."

"But it does hurt up here," she said, pointing to the center of her forehead.

Benjamin grabbed her hand moved it away. He then used his other hand to brush her hair away as he kissed her on the forehead. He looked at Elizabeth with just a hint of a smile. "All better?"

"It also hurts here," she said, pointing to a spot below her right eye.

Benjamin leaned in and kissed her below the eye.

"And here," she said, touching her left cheek.

Benjamin kissed her there too.

"And this," she said, pointing to her lower lip, "has been achy for a while."

Benjamin stepped closer to Elizabeth, putting one hand on the side of her face and the other on her hip, pulling her closer. He then kissed her for so long and so passionately, Elizabeth actually lost herself within it. When Benjamin pulled his face away, he gave her one or two more small pecks before resting his forehead against hers.

"I think we should get a move on," she said, trying to convince herself.

"Just one more," said Benjamin, moving his lips in again.

***

 

Okay. I'm not going to say stop the clock because I definitely wrote over. There's no point in pretending I didn't. That was an hour and 15 minutes. What can I say? I was into it, and there was a lot to set up if I'm honest. When it comes to romance scenes, you have to write them so that your audience can understand why these two people want to kiss each other, and I didn't feel like I could justify that in 30 minutes. So, that's that.

 

Anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

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