Last Popeye, The

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By LostInSpace

Hi, my name is Bonner Hendrix. This is my personal detail of events from my recent life of insanity. I started this log because I have a lot of things to tell, and nobody to tell them to. Nobody who I can really tell the whole story to, anyway, but you. This story is going to sound incredibly impossible to you, but trust me, it’s true. You don’t know me, you won’t know me, and if you saw me on the street you wouldn’t think a second thing about me.

I’m a computer geek by trade, but not by nature. I grew up in the rich yuppie-infested town of Boulder, Colorado. Only… My parents weren’t yuppies, or rich. I was the poor kid who’s dad was a carpenter that built things for rich people and who’s mom sold used cars. No, they weren’t the ‘kind, sweet, and gentle’ kind of parents either. I was abused by my alcoholic father and ignored by my errant mother for as long as I can remember and until I moved out on my own when I was 15. I learned how to be tough and how to provide for myself and I also learned that I was good at something… computers. I barely finished high school on my own and began a career just in the field of general concrete construction. I quickly learned the ins and outs of construction while also gaining some valuable muscle mass working hard in the field. Not a lot of muscle, mind you, but enough to at least not be a super-wimp anymore. Through hard work and determination I earned my way up the ladder quickly into management, and eventually, into being a professional computer geek. I never did go to college, but I proved myself into this job and now I run the IT department for the large construction company that I used to set rebar and build forms for.

I’m 30 years old, 6’4” tall, 260lbs, and moderately chubby – desk jobs killed my physique. I’m no weakling, but I’m far from “buff” or “gym ripped” or anything describing those hot guys. I do go to a gym 3 times per week to lift weights and I’ve made some very modest gains, but nothing spectacular… and I have the hardest time losing that spare tire. Nobody notices me or my body anyway because I’m just the computer geek. Not that there is that much to notice anyway. For years and years I’ve sat idly watching after, lusting after, and being incredibly jealous of all the buff guys in the world. Not understanding why I couldn’t be that hot. Wishing my genetic mix was different or that I could somehow be that person with that body worth admiring. Boy do I wish I knew 20 years ago what I found out about my *true* genetic mix only 4 months ago (just one day before my 30th birthday).

I’m so good at my job that I spend ˝ my days at work secretly online on various muscle web sites and chat rooms just finding people to talk about my obsession with. That obsession I speak of for strength, power, and handsome bodies. Sure, I’m not so bad looking. I mean, I don’t like myself, but I’d had a couple “hookups” with gay guys that wanted to suck my dick. They seemed to like me ok, although I always felt like I was under-impressing when we actually met in person. I had never actually even had sex with any guy (before 4 months ago), and only a couple rare women on my way up. Nobody ever caught or questioned me while doing this at work because, well, I run the IT department – who’s to catch me? Besides, I’m too smart and cautious for them to figure it out anyway.

About 4 months ago, I’m online in this “muscle growth/evolution” chat room on yahoo just talking about the usual shit with some of the other “regulars” of the room, and this new guy comes in “popeyehunter”. I don’t say anything to him and he doesn’t say anything to the rest of the room… but a few minutes later he sends me an instant message:

popeyehunter: “Hey dude, nice profile. You are HOT.”

And I’m all “Yeah right, in my dreams. What do you want? Money? I don’t pay for sex.”

“No. No not at all. I couldn’t help but notice… your real name, it’s Bonner? Bonner Hendrix?”

“Yeah, what’s your point? I’m not afraid to show my real name or picture on my profile – UNLIKE some other people”

“dude I’m sorry, I just can’t be known in this forum. Please don’t hold it against me. I love your name and I promise you won’t mind my anonymity when you find out what I’ve got for you. Just a couple more questions, please?”

“oh sure, why the hell not. I’m just wasting time here anyway. Go on.”

“Your dad, his real name was Steven P. Hendrix? And your grandpa, P. Everett Hendrix Jr.?”

“What the fuck? How the hell did you know that? Are you some kinda stalker or something? I’m warning you bud, I’m not too bad at hacking these computers. I’ll track you down and kick your ass for invading my life. What’s it matter anyway, that fucking dysfunctional bastard killed himself about 3 years ago last time I heard, good riddance. You a fuck-up friend of his or something?”

“no no… no… nothing like that. Please don’t be offended. I just, I know a lot of things about a lot of people. I bet nobody ever told you what the “P” stood for either, did they? Nobody ever spoke that part of the name, did they?”

“How in the FUCK could you know that? What do you want? I don’t care what P stands for… pieceofshit for it matters now.”

“I just. I need to meet you. I really need to suck some cock and I was told that yours is nice and thick. I have a photographic memory and I’ve spent years memorizing genealogy tables so that I can try to woo people into letting me suck them off. Yeah, I’m that pathetic, truly. Seriously – I just, I just wanted you to want me. That’s all… nothing bad or scary or anything. Please?”

“This is weird as hell and still pisses me off. But… what the hell, I’ve got nothing to lose. Worst thing is you could kill me or something and, well, I’m not too concerned about that. Besides, I just have this sense about you that you’re ‘ok’. Hehehe… you pathetic little gay boy.”

“oh thank you thank you sir! I will worship you like you’ve never been worshiped! I promise! Plus… I’ve got a little surprise that I know you’ll like.”

“Whatever, just tell me how to find you so I can fuck your ugly face and get on with it.” •


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