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Posts Tagged ‘Testosterone’

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Outside Dick’s Home across the driveway from the front door there is a tall hedge growing. I assume it was planted to shield the occasional pedestrians on the street from a view of our garbage cans. On one side of the hedge, barely visible from either the front door or the street is a large dark gap or hole in the foliage. From this gap, for as long as I have lived here, there issue several rivulets of water that tumble down the slope for about 30 feet or so before disappearing into a drain at the side of the garage. During the rainy season, these rivulets grow quite large and at times flood the driveway.
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Not too long ago, while leaving the house, I noticed some kid standing by the garbage cans behind the hedge peeking out at the street. Curious, I shouted, “ Hey, what the fuck are you doing here?”

At the sound of my voice, he spun around and stared at me, a surprised look on his face. That’s when I realized he was not some kid, but a very short old man with a scraggly gray beard. Old, about my age with wrinkles on his face that stood out like scars. He was short, well under five feet I guessed and dressed oddly too. On his head, he had on what looked like a black or dark blue felt fedora with its brim cut off. His coat, dark brown in color, had shiny buttons, yellow piping, and hung almost to his knees. Below the coat were wrinkled tan pants tucked into dirty white socks. On his feet, he had what looked like old hiking boots.

He hesitated a moment then turned, ran through the mud, up the slope and dove head first into the gap in the hedge. I noted that he was far spryer than I.

“Hey!” I shouted and ran across the driveway after him. Well, I actually didn’t run, that’s beyond me at this age — shuffled more likely. Also, I was wearing my imitation Crocs that I bought in Thailand for two dollars. There’s no running in them — waddling perhaps.

I crossed the driveway, then slipped and slid through the silt and the mud and turned toward the dark gap. “I’ve got you now you rat bastard,” I thought.

As I approached the hole and tried to reach in to grab the little jerk, I slipped and slid feet first into the gap. I fell thinking I was going to land hard on my ass. Instead, I kept falling down and down and down. As I slid down, one of my faux Crocs slipped off my foot. For some reason, I believed it essential I save the thing and so I did by grabbing it and clutching it to my breast. It felt like I was dropping down the chute at a water park. I tried to turn my body so I could apply some friction to slow or stop my fall. I got part way around when I popped out of the tube, flew about five feet through the air and with a loud “oomf,” landed face down onto what felt like soft moss. I was sopping wet and in pain all over. I was still grasping the phony Croc like it had saved my life. Eventually, I moved my head a bit and glimpsed a small pond a few feet away from where I lay. I could hear the plopping sound of water dribbling into the pond. I appeared to be lying in a small clearing a forest. I spied the little guy standing at the edge of the clearing. When he saw me looking at him, he ran off into the woods and disappeared. “You rat bastard,” I croaked after him.

Slowly and agonizingly, I worked my way onto my back, looked up into the clear blue sky, and shouted “I am not Alice.”

Four days later, I returned home. Neither Hayden nor Dick seemed aware that I had been gone. What was even more strange was that they also seemed not to notice my appearance. I was almost naked wearing only a few rags and of course the phony Crocs. My beard was long and braided. On my chest I sported a tattoo of a naked mole rat standing fully erect and above it in large red bank gothic the words “Fuck Trump.” A stud, shaped like a human thigh bone, pierced my left earlobe.

Disappointed at their lack of reaction, I stomped off the bathroom, showered, shaved, removed the thigh bone stud and put myself to bed. The next morning Dick woke me up to drive Hayden to school.

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“If you are lying with a woman, do her business several times if you feel inclined, but take care not to overdo it, for it is a true word that, ‘He who plays the game of love for his own sake, and to satisfy his desires, feels the most intense and durable pleasure; but he who does it to satisfy the lust of another person will languish, lose all his desire, and finish by becoming impotent for coition.'”
The Perfumed Garden, Richard Burton, Trans.

IN WHICH ANGELINA (TAI) AND HARVEY BECOME INVOLVED IN CONFLICTING ECONOMIC THEORIES

“Ugh, a blow-job tastes better,” exclaimed Angelina-Tai after downing in one gulp the entire contents of a small pony glass containing a concoction called B-52, made from a mixture of bitter and sweet liquors with a little cream floating on top.

Giufa, who notices things like this, saw a sudden gleam spring into Harvey’s eyes when he heard Angelina. Giufa knew that his friend was falling in love or something like that.

“Why don’t you take Angelina into one of the discussion rooms?” suggested Giufa to Harvey.“I am sure you both have a lot in common.”

This made Harvey a bit uncomfortable because he was aware that his friend was experiencing temporary testosterone deficiency and currently was being treated for his malady by Angelina, mini dress hiked above her waist, vigorously applying her ample naked buttocks to Giufa’s trouser encased flaccid member.

“I don’t wish to interfere with your therapy,” he explained.

“Think nothing of it, my friend,” replied Giufa. “Sometimes not even the Goddess can raise the dead.”

So assured, Harvey and Angelina retired to one of the small laboratories adjoining the room with the pool table, there to undertake joint experiments in hydraulics and fluid dynamics.

As he left the table Harvey promised, “I expect this will be brief and I’ll soon return.”

After they left and with the vision of Angelina’s ample breasts and buttocks fresh in their minds, the other Knights began a discussion on the relative merits of silicone and its effect on ones physical and emotional equilibrium. During the discussion, one of the other independent contractors joined the group at the oval table; Moo by name, played by Selma Hayek.

Giufa pointed out to everyone that Selma-Moo looked to him like she could be Angelina-Tai’s younger sister.

To which Selma-Moo agreed there was a resemblance, but added, “However, everything I have is natural.”

Upon hearing this, Jerome who prefers to be called Horace said, “I’ve heard that silicone in addition to affecting ones equilibrium also causes difficulty with co-ordination. So I suggest we determine the extent of your naturalness as follows. I will buy you the drink of your choice. You in turn will have to drink it with one hand and with the other grab my crotch and if you can get my member to rise at the same time as you are downing your drink we will hereafter call you, ‘the Natural’.”

Selma-Moo agreed.

After her successfully passing the test, Jerome who prefers to be called Horace suggested that she try two out of three.

“As long as you’re paying,” Selma-Moo said,”We can go on for as long as you like.”

After a while Angelina and Harvey returned.

“How was it,” inquired Giufa?

“We explored every dark, damp passage into her soul,” Harvey responded.

“Ahh,” said Giufa appreciatively, “Dante had his Beatrice, but we have our Angelina.”

Unfortunately, Harvey having paid $10 for the use of the laboratory and equipment and more for his bar bill assumed he had also paid Angelina’s consulting fee, and although he had given her a good tip it was substantially less than the agreed upon base fee.

As a result, Angelina experienced an adventure movie moment and exploded (a regular occurrence when anything intervenes between a Thai woman and what she considers her money), prompting the mama-san, Cher, to intervene in an attempt to resolve the crisis. When Harvey realized his error, he paid his fee and explained to Nat-Cher that he did not want her (Algelina-Tai) to be upset.

Cher-Nat responded, “You paid her what you owed her, why should you care what she thinks or feels?”

After Harvey left the Kennel Club for his appointment to interview another consultant who’s place of business was located deep within the Outskirts of Hell, Giufa feeling the pain of arthritis in his left hand, placed the throbbing appendage between Angelina’s warm thighs and pressed it firmly against her yoni. As he felt the soothing heat drive away the ache in his fingers he asked her, “Why were you so angry with Harvey especially since he eventually paid you what you wanted?”

“Sometimes,” she answered, “when I go off like that it is difficult for me to come down again. Besides, I was especially angry in this case, because I knew he is your very good friend and I put in extra-effort to please him, so that you will be happy.”

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