Sunday, January 20, 2008

Guilty Pleasures?

Dang, Fitzy, it's been so long since I've indulged in guilty pleasures that I've almost forgotten what they are!

But if the rest of y'all ever saw a pic of the dude who calls himself "Fitzgerald," you would definitely come up with a quintet of fun-sins when he asks, if only to avoid being skooshed like a bug by one of his size-13 brogans. (I'm guessin' on the shoe size....)

I don't know if I'll make five, but I do have some doozys....

1. Porn. Yup, I dig what some call "porn," but a very specialized sort. It's found only in the films of the late, great Russ Meyer. The man who coined the perfect word for, ummmm, well-endowed ladies ("Buxotic") was the master of cheap sex mixed with cheap laffs, and I have to revisit his oeuvre on a fairly regular basis. When Lola Langusta performs the "infamous black sock routine" or "Mr. Peterbilt," the garbage collector diddles her on a bare box-spring mattress (filmed from below, naturally) or radio evangelist Eufala Roop gets it on with "Martin Bormann" in a casket -- all from "Beneath the Valley of the Ultravixens" -- I'm there, baby! I have had girlfriends try to hide under the coffee table while I was running "Mud Honeys" or "Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" for them....

2. Speed. Yup, I loves me some speed, the more the merrier. Sometimes, I even get paid to drive at excessive rates of speed. There are few pleasures as intense as getting to that "am I going to make it through the next corner?" moment, though a couple of 200-plus mile-per-hour runs on German Autobahns come close. It takes a damn good car -- and fresh tires -- plus a familiar stretch of road. Or track. When you get that feeling that the ball game is about to be over as the smell of tortured Goodyear -- or sometimes Pirelli or Michelin -- tires fills the interior and you can look out the window and count the rivets on the guardrail, man, you know you and Mr Grim Reaper are standing toe-to-toe. Sadly, I can't bring myself to do this with a passenger aboard, though there was this engineer from a major car company who wanted to ride along and take videos...I sometimes wonder how he's doing these days, and whether he's recovered....

3. Spooning. Fitz and I agree on this, and I have fond memories of a lady (won't name her, but her initials were R. B.) who was the greatest "spooner" of all. Women fit perfectly in the man's front/woman's back sleeping/cuddling/loving position, let me tell you. The last lady in my life showed great promise in this regard for a brief moment, but it was not to be....

4. Playing "air keyboard". I've known people who play "air guitar," but I have 'em beat. Sometimes, when no one is around -- which is all the damn time -- I will put on CDs I've prepared of favorite tunes and mimic the performers. They have better -- and more -- keyboards to lay down sounds than I do, and more talent to boot. But I know what they're doing, even if I can't do it, and can imagine myself up there making the citizens crazy with my amazing performances.

5. Being "gay". I'm not, really, but both my work and my musical avocation have -- shall we say -- "thrust" me into close proximity to guys who, well, like guys. As long as they knew that wasn't my scene, I never felt any hesitation in hanging with them, using the terminology and telling the jokes. I had a girlfriend who would get green around the gills when she had to deal with a dear friend who was "flamboyant." And when I sent him a birthday card we found in a West Hollywood shop -- the front said "I was going to get you a gift for your birthday," and when the card was opened, there was a photo of a "husky" dude wearing a jock, and the words "But frankly, I'm strapped!" -- she was convinced I had lost what few heterosexual marbles I possessed. I enjoy listening to The Village People, too. I love women, always have, always will, but I dig all my friends, the wackier, the better.

Okay, Fitz-dude. You got me to open up and lay out my major weirdnesses.

But none of them come close to your fixation with WD-40!

5 comments:

Fitzgerald said...

Wow, you've got yourself a cool list going there. All of those seem very pleasurable to me. As for my shoe size, I think you are going to be disappointed, I wear a size eight. Which means I am a little man, I used to be considered average height, but kids drink more milk now and are taller. This really made me laugh and also happy that I picked you. Thanks for being a good sport. And the next time you see a can of WD-40 think of a few cool uses for it. I like to spray it at a lit lighter and kill flies. Another one of my guilty pleasures.

John said...

Hell of a list. Scary sounding movies.

Anonymous said...

Ok, I have to now go look for those movies...(not that I want to see..teehee, it's purely for research methods. I liked this post to...speed, yeahhhhh the fast the better...oh but when you do connect at (we do kilo's in canada) 200 miles an hour...you sorta rip the car in to pieces and suck face with lightpoles..lol. uhm..yeah..hurts now that I think back..lol. Have a good day. I woukd love to see some photos up today. See you may live where the getto mets the sea...I live on the other side, where the sun meets the sea...sooooooo..lol. LL

MrScribbler said...

LL -- The point is to not "make contact" at roughly 320 km/h. So far, I haven't, not even at 150 km/h. The battle and victory are equally sweet.

John -- Yeah, they are kinda scary..."Faster, Pussycat!" is the scariest of all, and lacks redeeming moments of nudity. But if it doesn't remind you -- in a sick way -- of women you've known, I'd be damn surprised.

Fitzy -- It was fun. Despite rough times, I still kinda dig it when people laugh with me. I wear size-12s, so you better have all them Bruce Lee moves down when we meet....

Japee said...

What a fun peak into you. More, more!