It’s okay to ogle someone, tits, bulge, legs, arses, as long as you don’t turn around and look back. It's the ogle back that lowers the class of the act.
Everywhere I look, lately, I seem to be gazing at, um, er, shapely crotches and well packed pants. Maybe it is the weather? Maybe it's me?
Soldier on with Codral, soldier on. (something to suck on)
One day I was standing at the tram stop in Nicholson Street, that’s a tram stop in the middle of the street, it was a sunny day, I was a couple of spliffs in, and feeling no pain at all, when this handsome guy walked across the road towards me and past me to the other side of the street, behind me, as I was standing there in the sun. And yeah, he was good looking, but there was something else about him that caught my attention, I can’t really remember now. Cool shorts? Great shoes? A funky shirt? Something. And my head did the swivel and followed him, which he noticed. And suddenly he was yelling at me.
“What the fuck are you looking at, you filthy poofter?”
Um, er? I thought. Yeah, sure, I am a filthy poofter, you seem to want to know how filthy by the way you are protesting loudly, but, er, no, it was your pants I was looking at, I wanted to say, but that just seemed to confirm his ideas, if anything. And I thought at exactly the same moment, you’re not even that pretty now you have your ugly face on. And I also thought at exactly that same moment, the line out of The Ritz, You can die with your secret you miserable, piss elegant fairy, and that nearly made me smile, which I guessed would have been exactly the wrong reaction for me to have, so I just turned my back on him. He continued yelling abuse at me for a while, which just made me think, mate, how badly do you want another guy to suck your cock?
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