July 1998 bumping uglies by Todd Levin |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Public Demonstration and Other Inalienable Rights
Often the not-too-subtle prestige associated with writing a column like "Bumping Uglies"
affords me assorted privileges not generally enjoyed by "average" citizens. In fact,
when I'm not eating all the free candy my readers send me (please continue
sending candy - I find it both delicious and free), I will try to find
occasion to use this column as a vehicle for raising, addressing and often
completely misinterpreting through ignorance or carelessness serious
political platforms that may affect many of your "normal" lives. For
instance, regular (translation: incarcerated) readers of this column will
recall the September 1997 SMUG (the "Lactose Intolerant" issue) in which
I exploited my precious space to talk openly about the dangers of wearing
3D glasses while watching a regular 2D pornographic video. (For those of
you who missed the column, let me reiterate: for the love of God, don't
believe the 3D glasses salesman at the video store who tells you that you
can "turn any boring old porno into a eye-poppin' 3D Boob-a-tarium" just
by putting on a pair of 3D glasses. If you do listen, you will get nothing
more than a migraine headache and a bad case of egg-on-your-face, which is
unpleasant because of both the sulfurous odor and the fact that egg
obstructs your view of the wigglin', jigglin' 2D Lost City of Boob-lantis
you could be enjoying on your television screen) Recent incidents in my
own life have moved me to dedicate this month's column to a topic that
impacts the lives of nearly every man, woman and child in the world - public
masturbation (naturally, agoraphobics will want to ignore this column). If
I could please have a moment of undivided attention from all chronic
public masturbators currently reading this column (which, our 1st quarter
server tracking analysis reports indicate is approximately 97% percent of
you), I would like to say just one thing to you: invisibility pills don't
work!
I work out a lot. A lot. Seriously. Anyway, working out as much as I do
(Which is, incidentally, a lot. It is no small wonder that I have time for
anything else these days.) I have become somewhat susceptible to the whole
"vitamin" craze. Sometimes right after a long workout, some of my gym
partners and I will head back to someone's apartment and gobble down fistfuls
of vitamins and supplements. My friend, Nicky, always takes these vitamins
that are generally only ingested by race horses and are therefore not as
easy to get at your local Vitamin Hut (or, if you prefer, Lou Ferrigno's
Mega Vita-Way, or any of the other major retail chains). That's how we met
Chancre Tony. Chancre Tony (that's not his Christian name, in case you were
wondering; he changed it when he moved to Hollywood back in the eighties)
deals in the "hard-to-find" vitamin supplements for the health nut who is so
fanatical that even anti-drug trafficking legislation cannot get in the way
of his need to stay fit. Tony spends a lot of time on Nicky's couch reading
personal ads for burn victims and, in return, supplies Nicky with his "hulk
rage" pills.
One slow Sunday weekend, I was relaxing in Nicky's apartment with Chancre
Tony and Tony happened to notice that I was intently and openly masturbating
to a certain television program starring a certain animated gorilla for sale.
When I was finished and had removed the plastic wrap from Nicky's Barcalounger
as I always do, Tony made me a proposition. He asked me if I ever did this
in public - not wrap furniture in plastic (let's leave that to Christo), of
course, but masturbate - to which I responded 'no'. That would be, after
all, a bit embarrassing. That's when Tony offered to sell me a handful of
Invisibility Pills. I was skeptical, naturally. I had been burned before
on Karate Expert Pills and had once spent all of my money on a Get Picked
Up Hitchhiking by Horny Sorority Sisters Pill, and wound up having to walk
home almost 12 miles. Then Chancre Tony assured me that these were the very
same pills that HG Wells took when he wrote his memoirs, The Invisible Man,
and I said to him, "you sir, have made yourself a sale!"
And I was off to the Cirque Du Soleil (well, I had tickets and, well…forget
it).
Now I don't want to say Chancre Tony is a crook (even though I would be in
reputable company - including the members of several retirement communities
-- if I did say so), but I became a little suspicious of the powers of
invisibility as soon as I saw a mother with a near-apocalyptic expression
on her face stare directly at me, grab her daughter and flee the circus,
leaving a spilled trail of Camembert cheese-flavored popcorn and another child
behind her. And I had just then removed my pants. It was unnerving. I
took the pills just before getting on the subway and within seconds of hopping
on the train, people were already bumping in to me as if I was invisible,
and I started to feel OK. I received a few strange looks while I whistled
the Magilla Gorilla music loudly on the train, but I assumed that was because
the transit passengers were struck by the haunting, ethereal sound emanating
from an "empty" seat on the train.
I think was overconfident when I arrived at the circus. But Tony was so
charming when he wasn't vomiting from skunked ketamine hydrochloride. Looking
back, I remember only a couple of things from
what the New York Post later called the "Jerk Du Soleil": feeling pretty
turned-on by the smell of elephants, really loosening up during the indoor
fireworks tribute to heavy cream, then hundreds of scared children, angry
parents, clowns drinking wine, shouts of 'Policier!', and then feeling
pretty turned-off by the smell of the French.
I think I would have been treated more kindly by the law and would have had
a better defense in court had I not been observed by several witnesses as
"[allegedly - my lawyer said I could put that in if it made me feel any
better] masturbating with the passion of bullfighter while pointing at one
of the female acrobats and shouting 'I am thinking specifically about you!'
at the top of his lungs." Apparently, victimless crimes are treated more
fairly by our legal system and in this case the "victimized" circus performer
was not without emotional scars (I learned recently, in an interview with
the acrobat on Oprah, that she was so upset she decided to quit the Cirque
Du Soleil and spend the remaining days of her fragile life staring at a
collection of small glass animals. How melodramatic…).
As a result I have sworn off public masturbation (well, at least I don't
point anymore). I never did find Chancre Tony again but I hope this month's
column was informative and cautionary enough to prevent our good readers
from consorting with people like Tony and unwittingly making a difficult
mistake in the manner of the one I made at that French circus years ago.
Please know this: there are a lot of "wonder drugs" out there that claim
they can do amazing things like prevent cancer or cause anal leakage, and
there are a lot of reasons to want to masturbate publicly; but if you learn
one thing for the rest of your healthy life, please learn that INVISIBILITY
PILLS DO NOT WORK if taken within 36 hours of drinking beer.
back to the junk drawer
|
|
