Well this put a smile on my face as I'm sure it will the countless Noah's Arc fans who read this blog.
It seems an anonymous blogger from Chicago has created a fictional third series of the hit black gay TV series and feature film Noah's Arc. And to my surprise this isn't the only fan created fictional site, it just happens to be one of the more detailed and creative out of the bunch.
I was a little apprehensive about reading the material, but once I started I was hooked. The blog author is really familiar with the voices of the characters and it's easy to visualize the scenarios actually being played out on screen.
New "episodes" appear every Thursday on the blog and there's five episodes to date. The story line picks up right where" Jumping The Broom" left off. Wade and Noah are a year into their marriage and Noah has become quite the workaholic leaving Wade to "entertain" himself during many nights along. Get into this excerpt from episode 1 titled "That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be":
Standing in the doorway of their new Silver Lake home’s Master Bedroom is a Burberry-clad Noah. Though at the point of no return, Wade manages to quickly slam his laptop close before shooting his load all over his hand, thighs, and stomach.
Rolling his eyes, Noah pulls his pink Burberry scarf from around his neck, marches into the bathroom, snatches a towel from the hook, and tosses it to Wade. “The coffee shop was too noisy to write, so I came back home.” Wade wipes cum from his body and the little that landed by his feet. “What were you watching on your laptop?”
“Nothing.” Wade sits up and checks the sheet for any other spots. Sighing hard, he stands up, stomping past Noah, and puts the towel in the hamper. “And don’t keep asking me either.”
“I’ll just see for myself.” Noah reaches for Wade’s laptop, but Wade sprints across the room and snatches the laptop before Noah can grab it. Noah plops himself down on the bed, on his back. He throws his legs in the air and takes off his Burberry rain boots and throws them in the middle of the floor, barely missing Wade’s shins. “Big Booty Hoes?” he asks.
“That’s it,” says Wade, slamming a still greasy fist on the dresser. “I’m not doing this, Noah. Not today. I’m going to the gym.” He quickly stuffs himself into a pair of jeans and a wife beater, and beats out the bedroom door, his laptop tucked underneath his arm. The door slams behind him. Noah throws a gold lame pillow at the door. “Yeah, real mature, Wade.”