EXTRACT FOR
Spicy Confessions
(Giselle Renarde)

Greg thought he was God's gift to women just because he'd spent a summer term in Australia.  And the sad truth? Greg was God's gift to women just because he'd spent a summer term in Australia.  



All he had to do was ask the question, "Want to see my didgeridoo?" and he'd have every girl in town hanging off him. 



There's never much going on in our small town, especially where nightlife is concerned.  Greg was crafty that way.  He recognized that we girls needed entertainment, and the easiest way to put himself smack in the centre of our group was to bring out that damn instrument.



I'm cursing the didgeridoo now, but in truth I loved that phallic-shaped thing.  All us girls wanted to be near Greg when he played. He'd haul it out into the fields on a warm night, take a seat on the big plastic beer cooler Marie and me had lugged all the way out there, and prop the didgeridoo between his long legs.



Greg was kind of a scruffy guy, wore big baggy pants with lots of pockets down the sides, band tees and hoodies. The way he talked, you could tell he read a lot of books. Back when we were all in high school, lots of the guys would make fun of Greg, call him a fag right to his face, stuff like that.  Could be that's why all us girls liked him, and why we trusted him.  But, boy oh boy, did Greg prove those guys wrong during our hot nights out in the fields.