Posts Tagged ‘Geriatric Knights’

Last afternoon of the Geriatric Knights in which the Knights Get Down to Business (Cont.).

The virile member, to please women, must have at most a length of the breadth of twelve fingers, or three handbreadths, and at least six fingers, or a hand and a half breadth.

There are men with members of twelve fingers, or three hand-breadths; others of ten fingers, or two and a half hands. And others measure eight fingers, or two hands. A man whose member is of less dimensions cannot please women.
The Perfumed Garden, Richard Burton, trans.

Giufa Comes Home.

So, Giufa, fortified with the “Blue Pill,” a “Gold Pill”, Density’s magic Chinese “Black Pill” and a testosterone shot, felt he was more than ready for the celebration of the festival of coitus.

So, that day he reserved one of the “Love Temples” located off of the pool room at the Kennel Club and took Selma with him into the room to assist him with the rites.

They began with the customary removal of clothing and proceeded to the ritual of the “Fondling and Kissing of the Nipples”. This was then followed by the ceremonial “pee-pee” by each of them. The shower service followed with the formal “Soaping and Washing of the Genitals.” Thereafter they entered upon the “Altar of the Bed” and proceeded to the “Laying Out of the Condom on the Nightstand” ceremony. Then following completion of the liturgical foreplay, they performed THE SACRED SHTUP that ended with Giufa shouting “Oh God” as proscribed in the literature.

After the completion of the ritual during which they attempted to exchange bodily fluids in every orifice they could imagine and after a brief period of rest, they commenced to perform the rituals in reverse, to unwind, so to speak, the completed ceremony; first the shower, then the pee-pee, the final “Fondling and Kissing of the Nipples” and the donning of the clothing. At last there was the obligatory wait while she put on her make-up.

They left the quiet of the temple and emerged into the raucous noise of the pool room. Density and Harvey looked up from their game of pool with several of the “Ladies-in waiting” smiled and nodded to Giufa.

Giufa now sanctified, threw back his shoulders, smiled, nodded and passed out from the Kennel Club and into the sunlight, eager to begin his quest.

Next issue, “Harvey gets his wish”.

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Last Afternoon of the Geriatric Knights in which the Knights Get Down to Business (Cont.).
“The impossibility of performing the coitus, owing to the absence of stiffness in the member, is also due to other causes. It will happen, for instance, that a man with his verge in erection will find it getting flaccid just when he is on the point of introducing it between the thighs of the woman. He thinks this is impotence, while it is simply the result, may be, of an exaggerated respect for the woman, may be of a misplaced bashfulness, may be because one has observed something disagreeable, or on account of an unpleasant odor; finally, owing to a feeling of jealousy, inspired by the reflection that the woman is no longer a virgin, and has served the pleasures of other men.”
The Perfumed Garden, Richard Burton Trans.
Giufa Finds his Groove again.
Now on that last afternoon of their fellowship before departing on their individual quests,  several of the Knights were gathered at the Oval Table eager for one final shtup in celebration. Although the Knights were not particularly inclined to be religious they were committed to perform their duties religiously, for as the old Arab wrote so long ago,”Do you not know that women’s religion is in their vulvas?”
Spy’s girlfriend, the Princess Oy arrived. She is being played by Joan Chen. (I know, I know what I said about Asian woman celebrities unwillingness to appear in a production like this, but then again, I warned you to never trust the storyteller.) This cheered Spy up a lot. After a drink or two they, made their round of the table saying their farewells to anyone within range of an air-kiss. They left, probably to have dinner somewhere then off for some trolling to find a Waiting Lady willing to join them for the night. Tomorrow morning Spy will disappear into the Indonesian jungle for three months or so as a knight-errant  assuring safe forests for the Resource Lords. Will he stumble across the Magic Vulva in those benighted wilds. The remaining Knights thought not.
A short while after Spy’s departure Density and Harvey announced that they were going to explore the other rooms to see if they could find the Waiting Lady of their afternoon’s desire.
“What are you looking for” inquired Giufa.
“I’m looking for a woman who can rapid fire her ass like a Brazilian dick milker”, responded Density. “I may however have to wait until I get to the Philippines to find one of those. Meanwhile, I just saw the greatest screamer and squirter in Pattaya go into the other room, Maybe I can get her together with Harvey”.
And so they went off leaving Giufa alone at the Oval Table like the cheese in the nursery rhyme. Well not alone exactly, Selma was busily applying hand and ample butt to his physical rehabilitation.
The previous evening Giufa contemplated the next day’s celebration anxiously, he did not want to fail at this important event. So, he consulted the writings of the Old Arab for help.
The Old Arab suggested, “The virile member, rubbed with ass’s milk, will become uncommonly strong and vigorous. ” But  he was sure that asses milk not something one would typically find in a Thai supermarket. He would have to send away for it and that would take too long.
Further on he came across  the suggestion that one should, ” wash the member in water until it becomes red, and enters into erection. Then take a piece of soft leather, upon which spread hot pitch, and envelop the member with it. It will not be long before the member raises its head, trembling with passion. The leather is to be left on until the pitch grows cold, and the member is again in a state of repose. This operation, several times repeated, will have the effect of making the member strong and thick.”
 This however, while tempting, was a bit much for him to contemplate besides where could he find some hot pitch at this time of night. So instead he took out a pill given to him by Density supposedly obtained from China that promised to work like magic. Giufa suspected that  the pill contained the ground up remains of some endangered species thought to induce super-human virility by sympathetic magic. But he was desperate. He also took out a big blue pill that has become the drug of choice for men everywhere today and the source of untold wealth for the company that owns its patent.
These he placed, carefully on his nightstand like sacramental offerings to be consumed tomorrow before departing for the Kennel Club. He then went to sleep and dreamed of two men with the same first name, Abou, who had consumed sacred foods before embarking on their labor:
“The member of Abou el Heïloukh has remained erect 
For thirty days without a break, because he did eat onions. 
Abou el Heïdja has deflowered in one night 
Once eighty virgins, and he did not eat or drink between, 
Because he’d surfeited himself first with chick-peas, 
And had drunk camel’s milk with honey mixed. “
“Maybe onions and honey” he thought as he dreamed, “I have them around here somewhere.”
To be continued as, “Giufa Comes Home.”

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He who boils asparagus and then fries them in fat, and then pours upon them the yolks of eggs with pounded condiments, and eats every day of this dish, will grow very strong for the coitus, and find in it a stimulant for his amorous desires.
The Perfumed Garden, Richard Burton, Trans.
Fabula Interruptus
Now I know that in my most recent issue I promised to continue with the Last Afternoon of the Geriatric Knights in which the Knights Get Down to Business, but as any reader of fiction knows, you can never trust the storyteller.
I thought it would be a good idea to break in here now, because I was worried that the reader may see the individual Knights as mere shadow figures around which to build a tale. While that may be true, I thought it would help the narrative if we put a little flesh onto their bones, so to speak.
Not a back story, for that would be irrelevant even to the Knights themselves. Instead I thought it would be helpful to the reader for me to provide an insight into the essence, if you will, of each Knights character.
We will begin (as we usually seem to do) with Jerome, who prefers to be known as Horace, because he is the least interesting and because of that also the most compelling of the Knights. The reason for this apparent conundrum is  that  to some people Jerome, who prefers to be known as Horace, seems to have no soul. As a result, of all the Knights of the Round Table (upon which our tales are very loosely based) he seems most like Galahad, the most boring and soulless Knight at Camelot. What Galahad did have going for him however is that he gave off a strange light that really freaked everyone out. Consequently no one wanted much to do with him and so compared to the other of King Arthur’s Knights we know next to nothing about him.
Now our Jerome, who prefers to be known as Horace, lacks the freaky light. In fact, for him it is sort of the opposite. Instead of giving out light he appears to be where light goes to die and so he is easily the most fascinating of the Geriatric Knights because he can be all things and nothing depending on the storyteller’s mood.
Density on the other hand is certainly the strongest and most knowledgable about practical things. But beneath that tough seeming hard-nosed, sagacious exterior beats the heart of an incurable romantic and he knows it and it worries him.He knows sooner or later he is going to fuck up. In this he  most resembles  Lancelot du Lac, the peerless and dread Knight of the Round Table, dauntless in war and strategy and prudent in all things except for his need to dick half the women in England.  When he finally got around to playing hide the salami with the King’s wife, Guinevere, the shit hit the fan.
Our Harvey on the other hand, is not romantic at all. True, he is optimistic and a good companion. In that he is a lot like Sir Gawain, ever optimistic and always running off to somewhere or other for a good time. But, Gawain was a constant screw-up. Not our Harvey though. Harvey is more cautious. For an example of that feature, one has to turn to another set of tales about a brotherhood, the Merrie Men of Robin Hood. There we find that old Friar Tuck bears a similar cautious trait to our Harvey. If one reads the tales closely, one realizes that Tuck never completely bought into the bullshit of Robin of Locksley. Sure, if there was good food, tasty wine and a roll in the hay now and then, he was happy to join in the fun, just as long as it did not get him into too much trouble.
Now Spy, he most reminds me of Parsifal, who no matter how badly he fucks-up always comes out smelling like he just fell into a vat of the world’s most expensive perfume. You can be assured that, among all the Knights, he will be the one to stumble across the Magic Vulva and probably not recognize it. But, not to worry, like Parsifal he undoubtedly will end up chosen to guard it, either that or in charge of renting it out.
Giufa is the opposite of Parsifal, he is the eternal Kingfish. No matter what high hopes he begins with, it will turn to shit in the end and he will be lucky if he escapes with his limbs intact. In this he most resembles Merlin minus the magic and the dress (He kept the funny hat though). As I am sure you recall, no matter what Merlin starts, it all falls to pieces in the end. Take the Sword in the Stone, it begins pretty well but everyone soon ends up dead at the Battle of Camiann and the Sword gets tossed into a lake like a crushed beer can. Merlin even ends up imprisoned in a block of ice or something, deep under some mountain somewhere, his magic gone along with all his money, taken by his girlfriend who runs off with it so that she can fuck her brains out with Mordred and his Golden Armor.
Now this may all sound pretty squalid and depressing but that is not so. Like Camelot, the story of the Geriatric Knights is a tale of hope in the face of the inevitable.
When we were  young with our peers about us, we dreamed and hoped for that which we had not yet experienced. Now in our old age we dream and hope for one last chance at  that which we will soon no longer have.
Symmetry is a beautiful thing.

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