it really doesn't matter where you are on this crazy blue marble we call earth, one thing holds true regardless of where you call home. africa, australia, even antarctica or india..where nary a square of skin can be seen beneath snowsuit or burqa, respectively. take a gander downwards. does your chest protrude? if so, be prepared for skeezeballs to flock at a moment's notice. if not, you are the one a-flockin'.
while all you gents (and i use that term verrrrry lightly) in the crowd are shaking your head in "what choo talkin' bout, willis?" disbelief, please direct your attention a la derecha where an explosion of "hell yeas" "woopWOOPs" and "mmmmhmmmmmmms" have just exploded in the exact location where the group of mild-mannered young ladies stood in the not-so-distant past. could YOU be one of those abominations that makes our glistening, moisturized, lightly-scented flesh crawl? are YOU one of those mutations that we bag on when we go to the bathroom in herds? to be honest, with a dash of tact for flavor..abso-friggin'-loutely.
though outbreaks have been reported throughout the year, a full-blown epidemic sweeps the globe every summer. like locusts, overzealous charcoal-happy grillmasters and one-day doorbuster sale seekers, the second the weather warms, the moment turtlenecks and corduroys become unbearable, a hybrid of all that is nastiness is unleashed on the female population. this is clockwork..more accurate than the trains under mussolini or your monthly craving for chocolate and soap operas. walk to the bank instead of driving? that's a negative. forego the gym for an al fresco workout? think again. they are waiting for you.
the first time it happened to me was when i was roughly 14 years old. my friend whitney had just paged me (haha remember those?) and asked me to come over her house so we could sneak and hang out with some older boys we met from east boston. not wanting to miss the opportunity of getting felt up in the back of an '77 cutlass supreme, i laced up my nikes, kicked up my heels, and scurried to her house as fast as my prepubescent legs could go. i was so intent on reaching my destination in the least amount of time that i failed to notice the pick-up truck trailing me. when i finally stopped to take a breath, i heard it. the lip smacking. the wolf-whistling. and my very first "hey mami..where YOU headed in such a hurry?" i whipped my head around to see three (tres) rico-not-so-suaves, all easily old enough to be my father (and i don't mean papi), leering at me from the window. naturally, i looked around to see who they were addressing (more like mentally undressing now that i think about it) and realized that i was the only person on the sidewalk that their gaze was fixed on. i looked myself up and down: tank top, shorts, sneakers. made of fabric and other assorted textiles..though the way six eyes were boring through me i could have sworn i was clothed in saran wrap. for the first time in my life, i was at a loss for words..though my facial expressions did enough gymnastics to warrant an invite to the summer olympics. the shock. the horror. the nerve.
was that my last encounter with a creature from skeezeball lagoon? hardly. i'm not saying that i bounce along like vintage pam anderson as i go for my evening runs. far from it actually. but no matter how plain jane i think i may look as i go about my business, there is always that one tool that will slow down, beep the horn, and shout something gross with a capital OH MY GOD I'M GONNA PUKE. though i do enjoy the occasional lewd comment or sexual innuendo (my outgoing voicemail messages can always attest to that), there's a time and a place. that place is not when i am trying to burn calories, nor is it when i am sitting in traffic on the way to pick up my mother from a mammogram. the t may seem like an ideal location, what with all the crowding and the rubbing up on and whatnot that will only be intensified by the impending dnc (well hellooOOO mr. senator. is that the constitution in your pocket?), but try to bust any game and i can guarantee you your manhood/ego won't be what it used to be (not that it was much in the first place..).
and now for my aesop moment: spare us the lines, guys. have they ever gotten you anything besides a pity laugh, eyeroll, or knee to the groin? didn't think so. there is a reason gerardo was a one-hit wonder.
..really glad that loss for words thing was a passing phase,
lex
ps..how YOU doin'? ;)
while all you gents (and i use that term verrrrry lightly) in the crowd are shaking your head in "what choo talkin' bout, willis?" disbelief, please direct your attention a la derecha where an explosion of "hell yeas" "woopWOOPs" and "mmmmhmmmmmmms" have just exploded in the exact location where the group of mild-mannered young ladies stood in the not-so-distant past. could YOU be one of those abominations that makes our glistening, moisturized, lightly-scented flesh crawl? are YOU one of those mutations that we bag on when we go to the bathroom in herds? to be honest, with a dash of tact for flavor..abso-friggin'-loutely.
though outbreaks have been reported throughout the year, a full-blown epidemic sweeps the globe every summer. like locusts, overzealous charcoal-happy grillmasters and one-day doorbuster sale seekers, the second the weather warms, the moment turtlenecks and corduroys become unbearable, a hybrid of all that is nastiness is unleashed on the female population. this is clockwork..more accurate than the trains under mussolini or your monthly craving for chocolate and soap operas. walk to the bank instead of driving? that's a negative. forego the gym for an al fresco workout? think again. they are waiting for you.
the first time it happened to me was when i was roughly 14 years old. my friend whitney had just paged me (haha remember those?) and asked me to come over her house so we could sneak and hang out with some older boys we met from east boston. not wanting to miss the opportunity of getting felt up in the back of an '77 cutlass supreme, i laced up my nikes, kicked up my heels, and scurried to her house as fast as my prepubescent legs could go. i was so intent on reaching my destination in the least amount of time that i failed to notice the pick-up truck trailing me. when i finally stopped to take a breath, i heard it. the lip smacking. the wolf-whistling. and my very first "hey mami..where YOU headed in such a hurry?" i whipped my head around to see three (tres) rico-not-so-suaves, all easily old enough to be my father (and i don't mean papi), leering at me from the window. naturally, i looked around to see who they were addressing (more like mentally undressing now that i think about it) and realized that i was the only person on the sidewalk that their gaze was fixed on. i looked myself up and down: tank top, shorts, sneakers. made of fabric and other assorted textiles..though the way six eyes were boring through me i could have sworn i was clothed in saran wrap. for the first time in my life, i was at a loss for words..though my facial expressions did enough gymnastics to warrant an invite to the summer olympics. the shock. the horror. the nerve.
was that my last encounter with a creature from skeezeball lagoon? hardly. i'm not saying that i bounce along like vintage pam anderson as i go for my evening runs. far from it actually. but no matter how plain jane i think i may look as i go about my business, there is always that one tool that will slow down, beep the horn, and shout something gross with a capital OH MY GOD I'M GONNA PUKE. though i do enjoy the occasional lewd comment or sexual innuendo (my outgoing voicemail messages can always attest to that), there's a time and a place. that place is not when i am trying to burn calories, nor is it when i am sitting in traffic on the way to pick up my mother from a mammogram. the t may seem like an ideal location, what with all the crowding and the rubbing up on and whatnot that will only be intensified by the impending dnc (well hellooOOO mr. senator. is that the constitution in your pocket?), but try to bust any game and i can guarantee you your manhood/ego won't be what it used to be (not that it was much in the first place..).
and now for my aesop moment: spare us the lines, guys. have they ever gotten you anything besides a pity laugh, eyeroll, or knee to the groin? didn't think so. there is a reason gerardo was a one-hit wonder.
..really glad that loss for words thing was a passing phase,
lex
ps..how YOU doin'? ;)