Category Archives: trashy intellectualism for sexy stuff

Locker Room Talk

Standard

“Making love is an art,” Bozo heard the man with the beret say. A naked man with a beret. A naked man prancing with a caterpillar on his crotch with a beret.

“Is making art a love?,” the dormouse asked from under the tea table.

“Depends.” Beretman said metaphysically. “Is it sexy enough?”

“Whenever I hear “physics”, even when qualified by prefixes like meta-, I am turned on,” Bozo said. “Right now for example, I feel I could explode.”

“Physics is an arousing word. It reminds me of a long neck. A long neck of a Masai woman.” abcd added, sighing.

“It reminds me of running a finger over a beautiful boy’s spine in the dark.” The dormouse said.

“Yeah, that’s sexy.” Beretman approved. “But detachment is important,” he added turning into a sadhu with saffron clothes. “Detachment is an art.”

“Is sex an art?” The dormouse asked.

“Nah, sex is a science. C’est precisement.” Beretman replied.

“Aren’t all sciences art?” abcd enquired.

“C’mon there don’t confuse me.” Beretman said, sulky.

“Yes but what about porn?” Bozo objected.

“Porn is meant to be downloaded,” abcd asserted. “My internet was working so fast this morning I was bedazzled. So I downloaded eleven porn vids. Then I was late for work.”
“Hahahahaha!” Bozo laughed in his face. The dormouse giggled.

“So you mean porn is trash?,” abcd pondered.

“But all trash is art,” Beretman said as he turned into a toilet seat on display at an art exhibition while smoking a long yellow cigarrette.

“No, no…you got it wrong! All art is trash,” the dormouse said sleepily.

“I don’t see any difference really,” Alice grumbled.

“Oi. Hey I say! This is a men’s locker room!” abcd pointed to Alice.

“Yeah, but I ate a piece of cake and now I have a penis. It’s been a strange day.” Alice explained.

“Wow. Show me?,” everyone clamoured. Alice complied. “Hm…amazing!” abcd exclaimed. “More fascinating than my porn cache.” Bozo got a hard-on.

“Cakes are some explosive stuff, I say,” Beretman remarked as his caterpillar turned blue and smoked a hookah. It was detached. So it fell on to the floor with a ta-tak.