Soooo I turned my short story into a little song of sorts. Do give it a listen. Just not loudly on the bus. ;)
The Story : Today I woke up on the wrong side of the bed with my penis hanging lopsided from the centre of my forehead. I was shocked (to say the least). What the fuck happened? I was at a loss. I had lost all ability to think properly as my mind seemed to have transformed into mostly urine. (I must confess that it was truly a strange feeling. Imagine a wet mind.) I needed to take a piss, so I waddled out of bed and all the way to the toilet on the far side of the room. There, I began to think. This seemed to be a completely new, alien sort of task (do I shove my head into the latrine? Do I aim while standing up?) It was hopeless, and I decided to take a shower instead. (Brilliant idea! A pat on the back!) There, I released myself on my face. It was surely the strangest feeling, and I'm not going to explain it here because I think it's personal. Rest assured, I didn't like it (I did). There are few things that can embarrass you when you are alone, and a penis on the centre of your forehead was up in the top-5 in that list.
My mind finally cleared, I went out of the toilet and sat down on the sofa in my room. It was soft and comfortable, but I could pay no heed. Questions circled my brain, questions to which I had no answer (none whatsoever). What the hell? What the hell? The clock struck 12 and I knew that I had to get myself outside and off to work. I could probably use a top hat, or one of those big green leprechaun hats (there was one stacked up in my cupboard) or I could tie it back over my head with a string and wear a wig. Or I could embrace the situation, and reveal myself to the world so that it accepts me as I am. Heart filled with courage and a strong feeling of equality, I braved my way out the door and all the way to the bus stop, which was at that moment harbouring a little boy, who screamed and pointed at me and ran away into the distance (the nerve!). Would he tell on me? Would he say naughty things? Sex-offender charges swam through my head like a tilapia. I began to feel dizzy, when suddenly my cock slapped me on my face.
This phenomenon intrigued me (my penis has a conscience?) and I tapped it lightly.
It twitched.
Across the street a man stared at me, flabbergasted. I hid my cock from view by cupping my hands around it when suddenly there came from the centre of my forehead a loud "OUCH!".
It was a high-pitched grunt. I could not make heads or tails out of it. I was, indeed, intrigued (my penis can talk?). I poked it once with my finger, and it slapped me, right in the nose, hard, with all its might. "You wanker!", it said. I tried to reply but my words garbled in my mouth because I became conscious of talking to my penis in the middle of a semi-crowded bus, and that was embarrassing.
There must be a better word for it.
The bus arrived and I tried not to think about what happened. Sitting there in the shabby red bus I avoided everyone's gaze (or rather, stares).
Have you ever gotten an erection out of nervousness? It's disastrous, especially if your cock is hanging in front of your face, and suddenly, like the fist of revolution, it raises itself up and hits the metal ceiling of the bus with a dull clunk! It is terrible for the ego. I felt like a unicorn, and not even a pretty one at that. Everyone laughed. I pissed myself.
At work I was fired and told to go home, and a day later all the women in the office filed sexual harassment charges on me. I was ruined. Rejected and, on top of that, unable to even begin to masturbate. With every stroke ca me a flurry of mins-numbling pain.This was, I realised, was because my penis began giving me headaches that put the most despicable of migraines to shame.
Nowadays it spends its time cursing me with all sorts of words it picked up in jail, where I was for seven years. And words cannot describe the amount of people that have sat on my face for a quickie. I am now a human chair in a small sex-toy museum in Thailand, where I get 5 baht for every ass that sits on my face, and I can tell you that this is not a desirable job, no matter how sick, demented or perverted you are. Slowly, I am dying. I know I will not survive through this coming winter, for I am too tired. I feel cancer on the surface of my will to survive. I suspect it's stage-4.
And so, as you cannot accept meas I am,
as you can never be welcoming, I am calling quits.
You will never see me again.
I quit being a chair, and I quit being an ass-magnet.
I am taking my leave;
goodbye and
good luck with your
climate catastrophe.
music by : evilfoetus
video by: evilfoetus