Verdict: "President Twitchy," and naked men in the middle of my street
James Wolcott's reflection on the debate is just, so peachy.
James Wolcott: Tweet Smell of Success
I have been in a fantastic mood since last night's debate. This might also have something to do with the fact that, last night or rather at 2:00 AM in the morning, some hours after the debate, food and drinks, I had an hilarious encounter with a georgeous looking man, walking in the middle of my street, with absolutely NO clothes on. A friend and I were double-parked in front of my house yakking-off about this and that, with the car trunk opened - I was supposed to taking some stuff out, and then I spotted a naked figure walking past.
He says, "Hello", something ... something (inaudible).
I say, "what?"
My friend Elizabeth says, "he says, he lost a bet."
"He lost his clothes, is what he lost." In my defense, I happened to see him before he spake.
He was very naked, but very polite - which is actually a funny combination in public spaces. I guess, he was trying to dispel our amused, disbelieving stares.
I have always wondered whether staring at a man's schlong was socially acceptable, even when he has pants on. I must confess, it is not something I can totally control. My friend who is way more cultured than I, and morally partial, would not look at his rather sizable schlong. She instead, offered him a "towel" to cover himself. Spoiler, party pooper, #$%#@
His initial response was to say, "no, thank you, I only have two more blocks to walk." We both said okay, and he said, "good night."
Southern Etiquette Lesson: Evidently, it's polite to refuse offers of help, because such offers are offered in politeness in the first place. It would be rude to accept. Go figure. Try explaining that to anyone who was taught it is ungrateful and rude to decline the goodness of others (help), oyi.
Twenty seconds later our naked man changed his mind, visibly concerned that he might get into trouble with the Law for publically displaying his personal assets, he walked back to us and quietly shouted, "Do you really have a towel?" Elizabeth, pulled a kitchen dishwashing towel-type effort from the trunk and said "here", without looking at his dick, she swears. I am thinking, is that a towel? I was expecting a bath towel. Boy, he has a big dick! He'll have trouble wrapping that thing around his dick, never mind his taut ass.
He walked directly towards us to receive the "towel." He was a few meters from where I was standing when I could see his face,for the first time, as he moved in and out of the light sneaking in between the shadows of trees. He was handsome, though clean-shaven-balding. He smiled, took the "towel", and I am pretty sure he said something which I wouldn't hear if you paid me a million greenbacks. He had a fantastic smile too. Oh, how I wish I had my camera.
I was having a perfectly surreal night: Kerry had href="http://jameswolcott.com/archives/2004/10/tweet_smell_of.php">grape-stomped President Twitchy into a sullen mash ; a gorgeous, naked man half-casually walks the middle of my street, dick-flapping as it is wont to do unstrapped, and starts a polite conversation about bets and small towels.
We have recounted both moments all day in stitches.
PS. To my pips- and no, I don't know why he was walking in the middle the street and not the sidewalk. Afraid of night-joggers perhaps- scary lot.
Where were you when Kerry bitch-slapped President Twitchy?
=============================================
DEBATE DRINKING GAMES
Next debate, we are playing drinking games... I am compiling a word/phrase list of things to drink to. From the banal to the bizarre.
Like, anytime President Twitchy says, Poland - Down your drinks! "And Poland."
Altogether now: I am the base, and I am revived!
James Wolcott: Tweet Smell of Success
I have been in a fantastic mood since last night's debate. This might also have something to do with the fact that, last night or rather at 2:00 AM in the morning, some hours after the debate, food and drinks, I had an hilarious encounter with a georgeous looking man, walking in the middle of my street, with absolutely NO clothes on. A friend and I were double-parked in front of my house yakking-off about this and that, with the car trunk opened - I was supposed to taking some stuff out, and then I spotted a naked figure walking past.
He says, "Hello", something ... something (inaudible).
I say, "what?"
My friend Elizabeth says, "he says, he lost a bet."
"He lost his clothes, is what he lost." In my defense, I happened to see him before he spake.
He was very naked, but very polite - which is actually a funny combination in public spaces. I guess, he was trying to dispel our amused, disbelieving stares.
I have always wondered whether staring at a man's schlong was socially acceptable, even when he has pants on. I must confess, it is not something I can totally control. My friend who is way more cultured than I, and morally partial, would not look at his rather sizable schlong. She instead, offered him a "towel" to cover himself. Spoiler, party pooper, #$%#@
His initial response was to say, "no, thank you, I only have two more blocks to walk." We both said okay, and he said, "good night."
Southern Etiquette Lesson: Evidently, it's polite to refuse offers of help, because such offers are offered in politeness in the first place. It would be rude to accept. Go figure. Try explaining that to anyone who was taught it is ungrateful and rude to decline the goodness of others (help), oyi.
Twenty seconds later our naked man changed his mind, visibly concerned that he might get into trouble with the Law for publically displaying his personal assets, he walked back to us and quietly shouted, "Do you really have a towel?" Elizabeth, pulled a kitchen dishwashing towel-type effort from the trunk and said "here", without looking at his dick, she swears. I am thinking, is that a towel? I was expecting a bath towel. Boy, he has a big dick! He'll have trouble wrapping that thing around his dick, never mind his taut ass.
He walked directly towards us to receive the "towel." He was a few meters from where I was standing when I could see his face,for the first time, as he moved in and out of the light sneaking in between the shadows of trees. He was handsome, though clean-shaven-balding. He smiled, took the "towel", and I am pretty sure he said something which I wouldn't hear if you paid me a million greenbacks. He had a fantastic smile too. Oh, how I wish I had my camera.
I was having a perfectly surreal night: Kerry had href="http://jameswolcott.com/archives/2004/10/tweet_smell_of.php">grape-stomped President Twitchy into a sullen mash ; a gorgeous, naked man half-casually walks the middle of my street, dick-flapping as it is wont to do unstrapped, and starts a polite conversation about bets and small towels.
We have recounted both moments all day in stitches.
PS. To my pips- and no, I don't know why he was walking in the middle the street and not the sidewalk. Afraid of night-joggers perhaps- scary lot.
Where were you when Kerry bitch-slapped President Twitchy?
=============================================
DEBATE DRINKING GAMES
Next debate, we are playing drinking games... I am compiling a word/phrase list of things to drink to. From the banal to the bizarre.
Like, anytime President Twitchy says, Poland - Down your drinks! "And Poland."
Altogether now: I am the base, and I am revived!
posted by knikik at 2:26 AM
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