My fans, audience, readers, friends…whatever you want to call em, I love them every one. Doesn’t matter to me if they’re tall, short, skinny, fat, old, young, male, or female. I don’t care if they’re Christians, Buddhists, Jews, Muslims, Wiccans, Scientologists, or the non-delusional version, Atheists. Makes no matter whether they might be White, Black, Asian, Oriental, Middle Eastern, Thai hookers, or Brazilian trannies. And I certainly don’t care if they’re straight, gay, or my personal preference, hot bisexual chicks who bring a like-minded friend over for the evening. The fact is, I like people who like me, because those people have good taste. People who don’t like me are stupid, and it’s common knowledge that I don’t like stupid people. So if you come across anyone who doesn’t like me, smack them on their forehead and tell them to stop being stupid. If they refuse, punch them in the forehead until they lose conciousness then pee on them. It’s okay, they deserve it.

That said, I’m particularly fond of chicks that like me cuz, well, I like chicks. I know this because I’ve had sex with an inordinate number of them and still haven’t gotten bored with it. In fact, quite the opposite. I could, and will, continue that behavior indefinitely. So, when I get some “love” from people on the internet it’s wonderful. But it is even more wonderful when the “love” is along the lines of, say, these:

Because any hot girl showing me some sort of oral love is, well, lovely.

Now, I don’t want to discriminate against anyone, so I have to give a shout out to the gays. Contrary to your homowishful thinking, the fact that I sold my shoes to a gay foot fetishist last week (read about it here), and that I happen to like anal (read about that here), I’m straight as an arrow. Not experimental. Not bi-curious. Not in denial. I know some of you dudes think that my banging a ton of girls is how I disguise my secret desire to touch weiner. If that’s the case, anticipate me disguising my love for cock that way for all of eternity. Regardless of my affinity for vagina, I’m a big fan of the gays because the gays are big fans of mine. I’m not the slightest bit homophobic, nor am I uncomfortable when they send me emails saying things like, “BAF, you’re so hot and I know you’re straight. But I’d love to come over and suck your straight cock until you blow a load in my mouth.” I mean, who wouldn’t be grateful for a compliment like that. One has to think I’m a very talented writer to offer to gobble my goo, right? It’s the sign of a true fan. Ladies, take note and step up to to the plate. Maybe you could be a little more intimate in your admiration for my work.

I need a muse.

Anyway, before I get too distracted from my point, the gays who love me tend to show me a great deal of love. But today I received something that demonstrated how much one particular guy really loves me. It’s a brilliant artistic rendering that represents me so accurately that I was momentarily taken aback, as if he’d emailed me some sort of magical mirror that showed my visage back to me through the computer. He sent me this:

Literally everything but a few details are a dead on representation. I mean, I am often surrounded by two topless, large breasted women, except for when I am awake. I am huge and lean and buff, assuming you are talking about the twenty-two year old me, which I am if you have a time traveling DeLorean. And the most intimate detail, my package, absolutely looks like I’m smuggling a canteloupe in my underwear as long as a canteloupe is now the same size as a baby carrot. If that picture came alive it would be like I had a twin brother, just like Arnold and Danny Devito in ‘Twins”. It’s uncanny really.

Truth is, I love this picture. A talented illustrator took the time to create an artistic rendering of me that would look totally gay if not for the fact that he surrounded me with sexy ladies. I look positively almost but not quite straight in that picture.

If anyone else wants to sketch, paint, or sculpt me, by all means, go right ahead. I’ll be delighted and flattered. Ladies, if you’re hot and want to paint me, and I mean paint directly on my body, just call. I’m free to be your canvas on the weekends. Edible finger paints are preferred. Or if you’d rather just send me some BAF photographic love, do it up. I don’t require a painstakingly detailed drawing where you make sure that each hair is as perfect as the ones already gracing my head. I just wanna see your beauty, and my name, and possibly your boobies.

For anyone else who wants to “create” me, just remember, my friend CMan has already covered the Tom Of Finland postcard angle, so try something different, something that makes me look straight. Because I feel straight…

except for when I look at that drawing.