Lake Trip Chaperone

  My wife won the coin toss, which meant I would be chaperoning our daughter's lake trip. These days your head only hurts for a few hours after your brain waves get mapped onto the host body.

  We bought a stock host body, and my wife let me pick the one.  Of course, I went for blonde hair and large breasts. To my disdain, the latter was not the most fun. My wife laughed at my decision as it sank in that I would be wearing unsupportive bikinis all week.

  Whatever, my only worry was that my daughter's friends would ask questions about the product number that was still visible on my stomach. It would wear off as the week went on, but maybe I needed a tattoo to cover it?

  In the days leading up to the trip, I really didn't appreciate my wife's attitude shift toward me. I think she delighted in talking down to me, poking fun at my new frailty and soft body.  She had me doing chores around the house like she was my mother or something. Finally, she's torturing me in her marital duties.

  She "isn't a lesbian," and "could never do it with someone who can't penetrate her like a man."  I'm dying here, because it seems my body still finds her attractive.  Maybe I'll find someone who will reciprocate on our daughter's trip. . .

Gig Economy

    I recently joined the gig economy when I got furloughed during the quarantine.  Being a 36 year old guy that loves fitness, I figured I could help people as a personal trainer or something.

    One of the new apps that people use is the EasyFit™ app.  With it, the user simply pays someone else to enter their body and workout for them by the hour, while their consciousness is uploaded to the server and relaxes or does work.

    My favorite client so far is Sally.  She's a college student that wants the body that exercise provides without the work needed to achieve it.  That's where I come in.  Everyday I go for a  3 mile run at the nearby park.  At this point she doesn't even want to get dressed to workout.  When I wake up in her body, I have to get the workout clothes on and put her hair in a ponytail.

    Thankfully, she spares no expense on the quality of the workout clothes.  The sports bras that she has do an excellent job at keeping her breasts in place.  That's the most difficult part of running and working out as a woman.  

    Maybe that's why she dislikes exercising so much.

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    Ich bin kürzlich in die Gig Economy eingetreten, als ich während der Quarantäne Urlaub machte. Als 36-jähriger Mann, der Fitness liebt, dachte ich, ich könnte Menschen als Personal Trainer helfen oder so.

    Eine der neuen Apps, die Benutzer verwenden, ist die EasyFit ™ -App. Damit bezahlt der Benutzer einfach jemand anderen, der stundenweise in seinen Körper eintritt und für ihn trainiert, während sein Bewusstsein auf den Server hochgeladen wird und sich entspannt oder funktioniert.

    Mein bisheriger Lieblingskunde ist Sally. Sie ist eine Studentin, die den Körper, den die Übung bietet, ohne die dafür erforderliche Arbeit haben möchte. Hier komme ich ins Spiel. Jeden Tag laufe ich 3 Meilen im nahe gelegenen Park. Zu diesem Zeitpunkt möchte sie sich noch nicht einmal zum Training anziehen. Wenn ich in ihrem Körper aufwache, muss ich die Trainingskleidung anziehen und ihr Haar in einen Pferdeschwanz stecken.

    Zum Glück spart sie keine Kosten für die Qualität der Trainingskleidung. Die Sport-BHs, die sie hat, leisten hervorragende Arbeit, um ihre Brüste an Ort und Stelle zu halten. Das ist der schwierigste Teil beim Laufen und Trainieren als Frau.

    Vielleicht trainiert sie deshalb nicht so gerne.

Festival Forever

  My daughter really wanted to go to this pagan, new-age, music festival that was a few states away and was an entire week long.  Honestly, it wasn't even that I didn't want her going, not even her closest friends wanted to commit to sleeping in a tent for a week with terrible phone service and the like.  Therefore, when she begged and begged incessantly to the point of me losing my mind, I conceded.
  The problem was that "I was a weird, creepy old man."  She would be "so embarrassed to walk around and party with me."  I had to change my appearance to have the honor of going with her (and of course paying for everything),
  Lucy, my daughter, came to me one afternoon, with a "solution."  She had gone to a ritualistic medicine shop in the city and bought some herbs and other strange things that you might imagine find their home in a witch's fairy tale cottage.  After mixing it all together in one of our pots in the kitchen and heating it up, she said some words she found on a forum off of her phone.  Then she handed me a mug of the purple fluorescent ooze and told me to drink up.
  This is when the agonizing pain started.  I honest to god felt my bones chipping away to get smaller inside my body, my fat being redistributed all around myself, my joints feeling like they were being sawed and sanded down to size.  Fire welled on top of my head as my receded hairline reversed and hair rushed out.  My face popped and cracked as my facial planes rearranged.  I distinctively remember burning sensations in my pelvic area as new organs knitted together and destroyed old ones like a parasite.  I constantly was spewing stuff out of my mouth, assumedly the extra mass that had to go somewhere during the change.  After about 6 hours of this hell, everything settled.  I looked in the mirror.  No more me.  I was what looked like some chick my daughter might hang out with.
  To be honest, about halfway through the weeklong festival, I started to have fun.  Once I could let loose and enjoy my surroundings as well as time with my daughter, it all seemed worth it. I got my nipples pierced to be funny, played around with makeup, and dyed the ends of my hair red.
  Hey Dad, I need to tell you something, Lucy said.  "I'm not 100% sure how to reverse this change.  That was an emergency potion used to recruit new witches if too many women died.  There's no rite or recipe for the other way around."

Dealer for a Day

With New Life. . .

Cancun Buddies

A Silly Mistake

Got the Part

Sorry for the break in posts!

My Own Funeral