Sample from The Perils of Praline, or the Amorous Adventures of a Southern Gentleman in Hollywood
Praline Palmetier decided to move to Hollywood while watching an all-day marathon of the reality TV show House-Bound, Season Six. It wasn't that he fell in love with the stately palm trees and sandy beaches shown during the opening credits, or the trendy bars where contestants drank too much, or even the ever-present possibility of seeing a movie star around each corner. No, Praline fell in love with contestant number five, Dave G.
Had he been asked to describe the ultimate human specimen, Praline would have described Dave G. The young man was tall-or at least appeared so on television-with velvet brown hair and smoky gray eyes. Though he was not overly muscled, he was clearly athletic. In one episode he'd worn a thong that had shown off his body, including a delicious stream of dark hair running from just above his belly button downward. In short, Dave G. was absolute perfection.
It wasn't that Praline decided to move to California without angst. He'd been angsting most of the summer. Having graduated with an Associate of Arts Degree in Communications from Laccacoochee Technical College, he had no further plans-no career goals, no special calling, and definitely no aspirations for additional schooling, as he had attained a less than stellar 2.2 GPA. Somewhat anxiously, he spent his nights making Mocha Lattes at a sci-fi coffee shop called Java the Hut, and his days loitering on his mother's sofa, which was where he sat-well, slouched actually-watching the special House-Bound, Season Six reunion episode, when on came a commercial for the bestselling book, The Key.
The commercial claimed that all you had to do to succeed in love was imagine down to the tiniest detail exactly what and exactly who you wanted to love you and it would come true, stunningly and amazingly true-especially if you bought the book.
But there wasn't any need to buy the book, thought Praline. He had just spent most of his summer imagining down to the minutest detail what life would be like with Dave G. In fact, he'd concentrated so hard, so many times, that Praline was sure if he ever happened to meet Dave G. they'd fall instantly and irrevocably in love. And that's when he realized he had to go to Hollywood, as soon as possible.
When he told his mother about his plan, she nearly burst a vocal cord screaming, "Criminy Jickets!" As an upstanding Christian woman, Robin Palmetier refused to take the Lord's name in vain. "Praline, you cannot move to California! It is the most sinful, most dangerous, most seductive place on this entire planet!"
And then, in order to avoid a full-on conniption, she lit a joint.
Sitting crossed-legged on the living room floor, Praline waited as his mother pulled marijuana smoke deep into her lungs. At twenty, our charming hero had floppy, almost-naturally blond hair and crystal blue eyes. Inviting, sensuous lips sat above a wide jaw with the tiniest dimple in the center of its square chin. He had an open smile, pale skin that flushed quickly, a sprinkle of freckles on his perfect nose, and an ass that was so exceptionally round, and protruded so far out behind him, that he was mortified by the very idea of it.
His mama finally exhaled. "Is it because I gave your room to your step-daddy, Spliff, to grow his special Ganja Gold?"
"No, Mama, I don't mind sleeping on the couch," Praline assured her. And he didn't mind, though the couch was lumpy, narrow, and smelled like a bong.
Shortly after Praline was born, his unmarried teenage mother completed five weeks of a six-month cosmetology course and began making a few bucks styling her friends' hair in her pink and turquoise kitchen. She made many more bucks selling those same friends various mood-altering substances, mostly marijuana but occasionally a tab or two of ecstasy.
After a slight hesitation, Praline blurted, "I'm going to Hollywood because I'm in love!"
Robin screamed again, this time for an entirely different reason. "Why didn't you say so? That's wonderful, darlin'. What's her name?"
"Actually, his name is Dave G. and he's on a TV show called House-Bound. He's totally amazing."
Praline nervously awaited her response. He hadn't meant to wait until he was twenty years old to come out to his mother. It's just that this was the first time he'd been in love. It was one thing to tell his mother he'd found the love of his life, and quite another to explain that an attractive older gentleman had once given him a blowjob in an antique-filled condominium and he'd thoroughly enjoyed it.
It took Robin about twenty seconds to adapt to her son's coming out. While she knew her mega-pastor would not be pleased, she found it difficult to deny Praline the same God who'd so often looked the other way when it came to her own life.
"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit," she said. "How'd you meet him?"
"Oh, I haven't met him," Praline explained. "That's why I have to go to Hollywood. So we can meet."
"You haven't met?" His mama looked confused, and not just because she was stoned. "You mean, y'all been typing back and forth on the computer? That's the new thing isn't-"
"No, I mean we haven't met. I fell in love with Dave G. while watching his TV show."
"Are you telling me you're gonna leave your mama and every little thing you've ever known to traipse across this big ole country after a man you've only ever seen on a TV show?"
Wow, Praline thought, she certainly put a negative spin on that. Maybe she wasn't quite as comfortable with his being gay as she seemed.
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" she continued, pinching off her joint.
"Why, Mama, you raised me to follow my heart no matter what," Praline explained. "That's exactly what I'm doing."
"Yes, but..." Finding herself cornered by her own parenting-style, Robin brushed a few ashes off her ample bosom and lost the conversational thread. "Darlin', do we have any of them jalapeno-flavored potato chips left? I've got the munchies."
Had he been asked to describe the ultimate human specimen, Praline would have described Dave G. The young man was tall-or at least appeared so on television-with velvet brown hair and smoky gray eyes. Though he was not overly muscled, he was clearly athletic. In one episode he'd worn a thong that had shown off his body, including a delicious stream of dark hair running from just above his belly button downward. In short, Dave G. was absolute perfection.
It wasn't that Praline decided to move to California without angst. He'd been angsting most of the summer. Having graduated with an Associate of Arts Degree in Communications from Laccacoochee Technical College, he had no further plans-no career goals, no special calling, and definitely no aspirations for additional schooling, as he had attained a less than stellar 2.2 GPA. Somewhat anxiously, he spent his nights making Mocha Lattes at a sci-fi coffee shop called Java the Hut, and his days loitering on his mother's sofa, which was where he sat-well, slouched actually-watching the special House-Bound, Season Six reunion episode, when on came a commercial for the bestselling book, The Key.
The commercial claimed that all you had to do to succeed in love was imagine down to the tiniest detail exactly what and exactly who you wanted to love you and it would come true, stunningly and amazingly true-especially if you bought the book.
But there wasn't any need to buy the book, thought Praline. He had just spent most of his summer imagining down to the minutest detail what life would be like with Dave G. In fact, he'd concentrated so hard, so many times, that Praline was sure if he ever happened to meet Dave G. they'd fall instantly and irrevocably in love. And that's when he realized he had to go to Hollywood, as soon as possible.
When he told his mother about his plan, she nearly burst a vocal cord screaming, "Criminy Jickets!" As an upstanding Christian woman, Robin Palmetier refused to take the Lord's name in vain. "Praline, you cannot move to California! It is the most sinful, most dangerous, most seductive place on this entire planet!"
And then, in order to avoid a full-on conniption, she lit a joint.
Sitting crossed-legged on the living room floor, Praline waited as his mother pulled marijuana smoke deep into her lungs. At twenty, our charming hero had floppy, almost-naturally blond hair and crystal blue eyes. Inviting, sensuous lips sat above a wide jaw with the tiniest dimple in the center of its square chin. He had an open smile, pale skin that flushed quickly, a sprinkle of freckles on his perfect nose, and an ass that was so exceptionally round, and protruded so far out behind him, that he was mortified by the very idea of it.
His mama finally exhaled. "Is it because I gave your room to your step-daddy, Spliff, to grow his special Ganja Gold?"
"No, Mama, I don't mind sleeping on the couch," Praline assured her. And he didn't mind, though the couch was lumpy, narrow, and smelled like a bong.
Shortly after Praline was born, his unmarried teenage mother completed five weeks of a six-month cosmetology course and began making a few bucks styling her friends' hair in her pink and turquoise kitchen. She made many more bucks selling those same friends various mood-altering substances, mostly marijuana but occasionally a tab or two of ecstasy.
After a slight hesitation, Praline blurted, "I'm going to Hollywood because I'm in love!"
Robin screamed again, this time for an entirely different reason. "Why didn't you say so? That's wonderful, darlin'. What's her name?"
"Actually, his name is Dave G. and he's on a TV show called House-Bound. He's totally amazing."
Praline nervously awaited her response. He hadn't meant to wait until he was twenty years old to come out to his mother. It's just that this was the first time he'd been in love. It was one thing to tell his mother he'd found the love of his life, and quite another to explain that an attractive older gentleman had once given him a blowjob in an antique-filled condominium and he'd thoroughly enjoyed it.
It took Robin about twenty seconds to adapt to her son's coming out. While she knew her mega-pastor would not be pleased, she found it difficult to deny Praline the same God who'd so often looked the other way when it came to her own life.
"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit," she said. "How'd you meet him?"
"Oh, I haven't met him," Praline explained. "That's why I have to go to Hollywood. So we can meet."
"You haven't met?" His mama looked confused, and not just because she was stoned. "You mean, y'all been typing back and forth on the computer? That's the new thing isn't-"
"No, I mean we haven't met. I fell in love with Dave G. while watching his TV show."
"Are you telling me you're gonna leave your mama and every little thing you've ever known to traipse across this big ole country after a man you've only ever seen on a TV show?"
Wow, Praline thought, she certainly put a negative spin on that. Maybe she wasn't quite as comfortable with his being gay as she seemed.
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" she continued, pinching off her joint.
"Why, Mama, you raised me to follow my heart no matter what," Praline explained. "That's exactly what I'm doing."
"Yes, but..." Finding herself cornered by her own parenting-style, Robin brushed a few ashes off her ample bosom and lost the conversational thread. "Darlin', do we have any of them jalapeno-flavored potato chips left? I've got the munchies."
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