While sitting outside, after going to Panorama City to take a shower, I heard music coming from the alley. A bright full moon was in the sky while crickets chanted in the warm evening. The music was Middle Eastern, a eunuch singing in a high voice, AhhieeeOOhaHEEahhAAH... on and on went the eunuch. That's when I knew Drag Queen was out in the courtyard of the right bunker. A full moon to light her stage, perfect for Drag Queen's performance of the Dance of the Seven Butt-flossers.
It was really lovely to listen to, eunuchs have such an odd singing voice, a high, slightly mournful pitch. And I was clean, in spite of Davids frugality. David offered us his shower but we had to wait until he came back from picking up a neighbor's dog at the vet. David prides himself in his frugal ways and he isn't joking. If he wasn't as frugal as he is, he wouldn't be able to waste half the money he does now.
I pulled back the curtain of his shower and there on the shower head was what looked like a juice can with needled pin-holes at the end. When I turned on the water, it misted out, some water came in drops that formed at the bottom of the fruit can. If you maneuvered your body around, the mist got it damp and the drops that fell at its end, wet the skin. I wanted a cool shower and got one using only the hot water tap. But what really was disturbing was the douche hose wrapped around the shower spigot. All in metal, it looked to be one for a high colonic, the end of which had more holes, and bigger, than what was punched in the juice can above. I didn't dare touch it, I didn't even think of using it to shower with so as to actually get soaked. Something like that, something that goes where the sun should never shine, is something better left in back of the bottom drawer, not wrapped around the shower as if it was a sinister alien in a B horror flick.
David's gas bill was nine dollars this month. He must have had company. We had dinner at Home Town Barf. I really hate it there, and David hates it there but its the price. Yes indeed, the price. And he doesn't eat all that much. But what he does love about the place is to talk about all the overweight people that go there. He has no mercy for them, describing the types of tools they need for daily hygiene and how fat they look. He has his unique way of describing these things as they walk by. Well waddle, and so David has something evil to say while eating and that way he feels good about himself. It's not his fault, he listens to AM talk radio.
So after the mist and the battle with the douche snake with some trough eating thrown in afterwards, I was at home, a glass of wine, the evening and listening to, The Dance of the Seven Butt-flossers.
I knew Drag Queen had a eunuch. All those Middle Eastern bitches got one. It coos to Drag Queen, telling her how hot she looks, even though she has no tits, she does have an ass. And drag queens need an ass to perform the Dance of the Seven Butt-flossers.
Drag Queen is center stage, kneeling with her head slightly bent down. A veil covers Drag Queen's mouth and honker. She uses the power of eye shadow to dazzle the crowd but not at first. She waits, huddled in a wrap of a fuchsia colored scarf. The boys are arriving, they are gathered with skull-caps on, some kind of rag hanging out of their pants with tassels and murmurs in their spit-soaking gibberish.
As the moon rises and now ripe with silver light, the eunuch plays its flute. Drag Queen raises her head and looks out at the crowd, batting her lashes like a lazy butterfly. She stands slowly, raising up so that her belly shows and the loins, with a flash of butt-flosser. The eunuch puts down the flute and begins to beat its drum and chant in yah-yah as Drag Queen rotates her ass. showing where the butt-flosser finds it way between the cheeks of her melons. She raises one foot than the other to make her butt cheeks flinch and grind against the butt-flooser.
The Zionist Jihad Party Boys are mute. They stare at the great buttocks of Drag Queen, the dainty butt-flooser glimmering where the ass melons kiss. Is it mauve? No, perhaps deep purple with a single thread of silver. The crochet butt-flosser entices the Jihad Boys to clean their glasses in hopes of catching a wink from Drag Queen's rose bud.
But the bitch don't give it up easy. She taunts the Jihad Boys, she bends and spreads only to slap her ass cheeks closed before they can see clearly the butt-flooser deep in her crack. The eunuch beats the drum faster and Drag Queen slips her scarf around her in a twirl, deftly changing into another butt-flooser before the crowed notices.
Now a canary yellow dips and taunts them, it has tassels here and there, and Drag Queen shakes them. This causes the Jihad Boys to rattle, they touch each other, feeling the cheap white shirts they wear and the slick black pants. The Jihad Boys want to see butt and butt is what they get. Drag Queen shakes her booty. She shimmies while the eunuch beats the drum and chants in its shrill ball-less fashion.
The scarf goes in the air and covers Drag Queen. Another deft change and a different butt-flosser is on. In her hands are the first two, she twirls them as her booty shakes. The crowd is in want. They cry for a tossed butt-flosser. She is such a bitch. No fucking butt-flossers for these cheap ass-holes. They'll have to throw money first and Drag Queen knows they will.
The eunuch's drum is thumped with rapid slaps, its drone now a shrill of desire. Drag Queen goes through the Dance of the Seven Butt-flossers until she is at the last one. The prized butt-flosser. and the Jiahad Boys are ripping off their skull caps, digging into their cheap black slacks and pulling out coins, some bills and throwing them at Drag Queen's feet.
She has them. She knows a butt-flosser or two must be flung for the crowd to fight over and sniff. And at the precise moment, when she can see the Jihad Party Boys pockets are relieved of all change, she throws them a tidbit and they go wild. The eunuch beats furious and screams in a shrill pitch before tossing its drum aside and diving for the spoils. Drag Queen has a wicked smile. She slowly flaps her eye lashes, covers her beak with a scarf and walks off stage to wait for the eunuch's cache of fortune.
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