Five Random Moments Found From The Fratmen Archives
That Say Everything You Need To Know About The Fratmen In Them
Author: Angle of the Dangle
While primping for my latest deep colon cleansing (Hey, the technician may turn out to be a hot guy, and besides, one wants to look one’s best when having a 12 foot hose pumping sparkling French water up your ass), I decided to take a moment while waiting for my organic seaweed and bird poop facial mask to dry, to casually surf the FratPad archives.
I have been accused by some people of using hyperbole when I write. I have reported those people to the appropriate authorities. Use your one phone call to contact Zane and when he stops giggling, he will likely begin regaling you with descriptions of his favorite Cheerleader porn (complete with detailed descriptions of the labia of his favorite models).
Serves you right.
That said what follows are moments from certain Fratmen archive shows selected not only completely at random; but from the first archive I clicked on for each model.
We all love Vincent. What is not to love? His beautiful blue eyes, his shock of sandy hair, his rockin bod. As evidenced by this archive, though, the only person who loves looking at Vincent more than us is Vincent himself. Whether in a mirror, his own cam feed, or hell, a reflection on the shower door, Vincent just can’t keep himself from admiring his own stunning good looks. Do we blame him? No. He probably even jacks off to his own pictures during his cam shows, and why not. There are likely very few female models as pretty as he is.
Vincent: there is nothing wrong with knowing how pretty you are. All we ask is that you occasionally remind yourself that that there are other pretty people out there. You know like FratMan Kip, that girl who made the cover of the annual swimsuit magazine thingy, your average Hooter’s waitress, and Ross the Intern. Acknowledge the beauty around you Vincent. Barring that; you could at least shoot loads of thick creamy jizz on your own image.
Because you care.
Let me start by acknowledging that FratMan Drake was not everyone’s cup of tea. I get that. But, hey, there is a FratMan for everyone’s taste (see also; FratMan Sal). For those of you not around during Drake’s time at the Pad; I will just tell you in a sea of scratch and sniff macho jock ball sweat, Drake was like delicious a breath of rainbow colored fresh air. Drake would sit around for hours and talk, but at least he would talk about things we gays find interesting. In this archive he can quite literally be seen talking about buying his next diamond stud earring at Tiffanys. When he wasn’t talking about shopping, clothes, and broadway musicals, Drake would talk to us about his latest boyfriend or favorite gay porn model, all while calmly adjusting his new 300 dollar pair of jeans and designer shirt so that they fit just so.
He was fabulous.
Drake was like our bottom-boy best-friend who would dish the dirt on all the guys who bought him drinks at the club the night before, and then color our hair after we quit laughing long enough to put down our martinis. After hour upon endless hour of FratMen talking about girls, cars, sports and toe jam (I am not kidding, search the archives for yourself if you dare), a cam show with Drake was a way of reminding ourselves all the wonderful things about being about NOT being straight. Drake would totally get our witty bon mots on subjects as diverse as Bears vs Twinks, the best lube for handling those REALLY big jobs, and how to get cum stains off of a new cashmere sweater. For we Drake fans (and there are many of us) there was no such thing as a dull Drake show.
Drake: You were just too delicious for the Pad.
Nick was a suburban white kid who seemed always to be desperate to prove that he was from the inner city hood. Nick peppered his vocabulary with words like “pimpin”, “for real though” “bitches be trippin” and the kind of conversational skills you normally only see from a guest on Jerry Springer. For all his talk of a hard scrabble past, he decked himself out in in the finest apparel FratPad Privates could buy, and did his best to look like an extra in a Gangsta Rap video.
Don’t get me wrong, Nick was nice looking. Blond hair and blue eyed, he had a great build and a nice ass. There was nothing about Nick that would make anyone turn away (or turn the volume on their computer WAAAYY down) until he opened his mouth. Which he did. All the time. Whether talking about the the chick he had “straight up jacked” the night before, or selecting out rims for his next ride, Nick could always be counted on to give a show that was part a sociological study on the effects of listening to one too many recordings of Vanilla Ice in his formative years, and part sexy stripper-between-jobs reality show realness. We don’t know what became of Nick after the FratPad, but while there he enthralled us all in much the same way any of us can be enthralled by watching anyone “representin’” something or someone who would just as soon not have him as their representative.
The irony of which was quite obviously lost on him.
Most FratPad Members know that Alan used to be a cam model. And now I am going to say something that will give me stomach cramps and likely shock many of my loyal followers:
He was a good cam model.
I know. I said something complimentary about Alan. Believe me; this hurts me more than it does you. But the fact remains, Alan could be very entertaining. Alan knew how to work a cam and a chat room. Sexy one moment and silly the next, whatever alphabet soup of highly treatable disorders that went into making up his personality (ADHDDHDA-whatever-the-fuck) made him very fun and sexy to watch.
Little did we know that Alan was already putting his mastery of the darkside to work plotting to take over the FratMen empire one jack off show at a time. What clues from this fresh faced young guy were we missing at the time that should have been so evident? Was it his extensive DVD collection of interracial porn? Was it the fact that he was the first FratMan to purchase an iPhone and load it with images of Donald Trump? Or could one of the clues have been found in this very cam show when he forgot to take off his ready-to-wear Empire best before taking out his balls to distract us from the truth staring us in our bleary eyed hung over faces? OK. That last part could just be me.
All I know is that the truth can be found somewhere in his archives. Sadly; I can only watch a few minutes of them at a time before I snap to my senses and remember that this is the same guy who now Livestreams his sports car, and tweets pictures and comments about the difficulties of waiting for the latest incredibly hot young model to get hard.
The Force will one day turn on you young Paddawon.
Make of this one what you will.
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