pink cover (bit vulgar(

I was sitting there watching these people turn into crabs and surprised at how not terrified I truly was.  It could be because just a few seats down the bar there was a plump Mexican business woman wearing a white collared shirt, black neck tie, black skirt, black heels and pantyhose with one leg crossed over the other and I found it difficult to take my eyes off her.  Her hair was as black as her heels and she was sipping gingerly on a Singapore Sling and I did not have the temerity to approach her.  instead I turned my attention to the game of pocket billiards taking place directly behind and promptly made a bet the likes of which I could not pay with a traveling salesmen who said he was in town for something like a fascist convention and I could only chuckle and tell him my motorcycle was in the shop and if he wanted to talk politic he damn well better buy me another drink and maybe spring for a stick of beef jerky or something and I had just enough presence of mind to ask who the hell let all these gazelle and antelope inside the bar as they’d already tipped over twelve fucking drinks by last count.  I was on my fourteenth drink or something like that and I felt pretty good and I knew someone had given some pills but they did not make me feel anything.  The Mexican businesswoman was named Yamilia I think and I desperately wished to die and be reincarnated at that exact moment as the bar stool in which she currently rested her ample and hosiery clad derriere.  I dare not talk to her though. I think I was likely scared of the thinly wrapped bar of chocolate which I saw just out of the corner of my eye and which reminded me oh so far very much of the thin grey alien which had abducted me only the previous night and subjected me to all manner of horrifying and painful experiments and procedures.  Someone next to me inquired about anal probing at that exact moment but I shrugged them off and told them about a charity to which I’d donated to not several days before and which promised to help keep local kids off drugs.  I knew there were several local kids choking their last breaths right outside the bar at this exact moment and though I felt some semblance of sympathy for them I also knew I truly wanted nothing more than to consume a large bowl of frosted flakes and drive around an airport parking lot for four consecutive hours with the windows rolled down.  She had a mole on her face which I thought was very attractive.  

When I walked outside I was surprised to find how many were made of gold.  I made my way to a local hardware store where I proceeded to dance and two-step and wonder out loud about the best way to supplant local political impotency but by that moment there was already a bomb squad in place and I approached several prostitutes but none of them exactly fit the bill as the kids say and I recalled in that exact moment the words of a wiser man who indicated that research had indeed pierced all extremes of my sex.  Still, it was hard to argue with the diplomacy and there was one in particular whose shoes and fishnet pantyhose I wished to smell and I promptly offered her five dollars American for this joyous opportunity and when she scoffed at that idea I bumped it up to five hundred dollars American or her best offer and I held her used hosiery and shoes up to my face while her hand went  to work but my critical moment of pleasure was swiftly interrupted when I spotted a couple of man-sized lobsters practicing what I recognized as Brazilian ju-jitsu not twenty feet from my current location and I screamed and ran roughly 1.5 miles with my cock hanging out my rent trousers  flapping to and fro in accordance with the rhythm of my hurried steps.  

Sometime later and I furiously ejaculated into my rent trousers at that exact moment while I had 9 pairs of used pantyhose of various denier wrapper tightly around my face (along with one flesh colored pair stuff in my mouth and a black pair tied only around my mouth with a knot at the base of my neck to keep the flesh pair properly stuffed, both used) and I passed out for a moment and came dangerously close to suffocating and dying but at least it would have been while enveloped in glorious aromatic femininity and above me there is a poster of David Bowie which is the cover of his classic album “Heroes” and it is first thing I see after I wake up and all pull off all the precious hosiery and I scream out in a voice very guttural that for some reason does not sound like my own “The secret life of Arabia!” and then I burst into histrionic laughter when I realize it all comes from Burroughs but does it really?  White bullets.  Then I realize that everything is dada.  Everything is dada right in front of my fucking glazed over eyes and all I can do is thank the Lord for women’s feet and arches and heels.  There is Cronenberg film on the in background somewhere and soon it will probably be Mann and I think back and realize I would very much like to watch her make guacamole in front of me and lick it off her finger and then dip her foot in it and force me to eat it off her foot.  I’ve written about this before of course.  is there anything greater than hosiery?  Seams in the back running up curvy calves.  Reinforced heel-toe.  Shimmer.  Dangling as a high heel pump hangs precariously just off the tip of the big toe and then oh my God oh my sweet God it falls to the floor with a clank and then there is fast semen pumping action.  I do apologize for the vulgarity.  Black Panther looks fucking great.