Junk and a Knife

I wrote that thinking - marquee – now playing; starring Sylvester Stallone and Jim Bowie the summer movie you’ve all been waiting for; squirrely sex, robust action, drama, fear and a blazing round of man fire. Now playing at Cinema X1000.

Men are crazy – I mean bat crazy!

Streetcar Sammy pulls his turnip into full view walks it around while holding a knife. I’m guessing in Sammy’s mind he’s pleasuring young women on hostage car. Now, how did Sammy get in this frame of mind? Who knows! Men have a thing for weirdness and marching their trouser turnip in public may be an expression of a most inner battle – the right to weirdly showcase ' junk' in public!

I’m thinking a night at the opera. “Tal, I want you to meet my wife Louise and what is that lovely fellers name you’re holding in your left hand.

Marvin! He goes wherever I go – I dressed him for the occasion.”

Up and down aisles men introduce wives and neighbors and acknowledge the turnip. “Sid, did you say that’s, “One-eye Fred?” Strange name, but I know an optometrist who sells monocles.

Here’s a thought – what if the turnip had teeth and a voice?
Men would have to wear a muzzle in their pants and ear plugs.

We all know the turnip came popping out a stomach much the same as that unforgettable scene in the original Alien looking as gangly and if allowed to fully grow would in all doubt be as frothy and unattractive.

 So what is it that gets men so hopped up they will parade up and down a streetcar or sex text such a lovely image of their – junk?

Booty!

Booty! - the overwhelming long distance embarrassing track meet; the hunt for the elusive smiling booty. Men talk about it as if it is a creature that attaches itself to a body and dines exclusively on turnips.

I’m still perplexed by Anthony Weiner. I can understand the not so forgiving head birthed a top his shoulders and the daily chore of grooming to ripen fig. Not a pretty sight yet that head brained him power, a beautiful women, family, big name.

For Weiner, hidden below, head number two which I guess by now has moved upward; mesmerized his hands. The guy couldn’t remove. In fact, he texted pretty women for help and proceeded to strangle the meat puppet - often times five times a day – grunting and wheezing his way through torment and self- flagellation. Five times a day? Wow! That means at least ten hours of top soil pleasuring with a bit of time resuscitating his near dead snake.

I truly don’t know where the word junk comes from in association with the turnip other than one must have stumbled on  while some dude was cleaning a garage and was mistaken for trouser refuse.

Anyway, it’s Monday morning and I thought you earned a good laugh .. and it’s a holiday! Righteous!