-OR-You Grab Your WHAT and Stick It WHERE?!
Vincent was a dirty looking queer. I met him in a creative writing class I took back in college. The originality he lacked as a writer he made up for in flamboyance and heart. He spun these elaborate yarns about death and dismemberment with a few homo-erotic descriptions thrown in for good measure. We didn't have a whole lot in common except for the fact that Vinny was a goombah. Moreso than that: Sicilian! He was a self-described "club fag" and declared it proudly to any who hadn't already assumed so by his feminine mannerisms. I envied his show(boat)manship, as I, too, was an ego maniac.
Wherever Vincent went, you'd hear that loud, obnoxious lisp displaying his colorful vocabulary. One of my more humorous memories was challenging him to talk "straight". He got pretty good at it, too. He'd walk up to strangers and start in on them like he was a news anchor. Good times were had by all. I liked Vincent. He was a slut, though. He was a HUGE slut, and proud of it. That always bothered me a bit. I'm sure by now his butthole is as loose as his morals. (I still preferred him to that faggot Jason Chard). It was around this time that I was faced with an unpleasant sexual advance. Vincent gave me sound advice on the matter, but cooler heads surely did not prevail.
To Be Continued. . .
*Tune in Thursday for the dramatic conclusion!
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9 comments:
It's the non-obvious, non-dirty looking queers you have to be wary of - they have so much more to hide.
One of the best pieces of advice I ever got: If a hooker approaches you and you're not interested, tell her, "Baby, I just got done," and she'll leave you alone.
"It's the non-obvious, non-dirty looking queers you have to be wary of"
...In other words, keep one eye on Peter and one eye on your zipper. When you least expect it, that unassuming, clean homo will try to violate you in ways that even I have never imagined.
But only after you, dear Prince, after you.
I like 'em a little warmed up, first.
(horrors: Bekki, are you still reading these?!!)
No one commented on the fact that I know Vincent Gallo?
"Psh! Who's Vincent Gallo?"
Peter, I just wanted to let you know that I enjoy our long, late-night stroke sessions over the phone, in which all we do is talk about Mike Valentino. If he knew, he'd be horrified. (And strangely fascinated?)
Mike, I don't care if you "know" Vincent Gallo. I've seen his erect penis.
I thought that was a link to an actual penis. So, uh, I DIDN'T click on it. Damn, you're up pretty late, ya know.
YOU'RE up late.
I'm on the phone jacking it with Peter right now.
a sicilian gay? no fucking way, jack.
my mamaw called them he-she's....but, queer or gay?
no. fuckin'. way.
Sorry, I was finally able to remove the ball-gag Prince makes me wear.
After he untied me.
And I'm STILL worried by 'your wife said's' silence . . .
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