The Crotch-Grabbers.

My street is all haunted by creatures of the dark-the crotch-grabbers. They are a group of elite faggy warriors who possess a heightened sense of smell, that able them to sniff crotches meters away, x-ray vision that can instantly decipher the size of the male specie's genitalia, strategic positioning included (downward,upward, sideward and 'taped,clamped and obscured), it all depends on the material of the garb, the flimsier it is, the more their body vibrate as if invoking the spirit of some benevolent spirits. Among them lies a mastery of self-defense and wreaking havoc on unwitting victim. If they see you steadily standing and all wrapped up, they will sneak behind your back like a true ninja, kneel to the ground, cock their arms back, focus all the energy and strenght into the punch and release it and Baam! You have been proton canonned!It is when they hit the back of your knees with such a great force it renders you instantly paraplegic.The good defense is to constantly horse kick every 10 seconds, it may make you look like a cross between a horse desperate for a shag and a complete moron, but at least, you'll be spared, if you were lucky enough, given that there is indeed a crotch-grabber at your back bracing to strike, you might even get the upperhand and flatten his overly made up face with your wooden slippers.

One crotch grabber, upon my first week of immersion in the area, kept on yapping about his boyfriend's flourishing career as an up and coming print ad model, He would tell the narrative story of their wondrous relationship at the mention of the words "love" , destiny (even if the only destiny word that can be found was that on the Destiny Cable Van that zooms by the street). His eyes would instantly turn glassy at the mention of romance, and his whole body, spastic, like a possessed blender. And as true as his words, As I was riding a cab along C5 road one day, There it was, the boyfriend's billboard beaming with a knowing smile,It could have been glamorous if it wasn't for the catch phrase "GOT TERMITE? Call 6754568" on the upper right of the billboard. A few questions formulated in my twisted mind, 1. Is the boyfriend the exterminator? 2. Are the exterminators really that good even humans with termite-like quality can be annihilated? 3. Is the boyfriend's picture the closest the ad agency could get to the real termite? A termite personified? 4.Was the boyfriend bludgeoned, tortured and manhandled into posing for a termite
ad?

Another crotch-grabber has a preternatural fascination to garbage collection day when heaps and heaps of garbage are shoved onto the designated sidewalk area, It's as if he was Storm and the garbage is at his beck and call, he is clearly in his element. He cajoles someone is his syrupy voice and a hush-puppy, I-havent-eaten-for-a-week look into going with him to a store, and when they get right smack in front of the collected garbage,forcefully push the poor soul into the mountain of stinking rubbish, the last time it was done, someone had kissed a shitty diaper.
To Be continued..














on the Destiny cable car as it zooms by the street).

to be continued