Beer shows are populated by colourful individuals.
But, like a Corpse Flower, these individuals bloom only rarely; and the result is usually equal measures of the sublime and the horrible.
Perhaps it was because both my brother and I were sporting muttonchops. Maybe it was the matching bowling shirts with our names on them. Or it may have been the magical combination of the two that coaxed one such Homo Amorphophallus to come over and confide in us his most intimate secrets. The secret of his special sexual maneuver--a procedure so edgy that some of the continent's most liberal sex columnists have cautioned against its application in the bedroom.
A- (addressing my brother, C)"You guys look like guys who know what a donkey punch is, eh?"
C- (realising, quite correctly, that the path of least resistance is to agree)"Certainly we do!"
B- (nod in compliance)
A- "You fellas" (leaning on our table like it's the last stop before landing on the floor, snickering)". . .you fellas ever hear tell of the 'Tony Danza Donkey Punch'?"
B&C- (shake heads "no" in unison)
A- "Okay. . . "(snickering, near uncontrollably)". . . so you're doin' you lady from behind, right?"
B&C- (nod in unison, smiling--it's already getting good)
A- "So. . ." (more snickering)". . . while you're doin' her, you yell out, 'Whose the boss, bitch?'--but you keep doin' her, right?"
B&C- (nod in unison)
A- "And when she looks over her shoulder and says, 'What?'"(snicker snicker)"You punch her in the face and say, 'Tony Danza's the motherfuckin' boss, bitch!'" (unrestrained belly laughing)
B&C- (nod in unison)
This is where the story passes from merely an amusing encounter with domestic abuse, and make the leap to 'truly surreal domestic abuse'--the guy's girlfriend chimes in (oh yes--she was there the whole time, grinning away with the last three teeth God gave her)
G- "First couple times I dinn't git it!"
Now everyone is laughing hysterically. . . well, they are. C and I feel like police officers watching a very intoxicated man do field sobriety tests. The spectacle is funny, but it's hard to enjoy because you can't stop thinking about what could have been (or may still occur).
I know it seems almost too outrageous to believe; and had I created it in my mind, I would have likely chosen the "Scott Baio Donkey Punch" ("Whose in charge? Charles is in Charge, bitch!"). It just goes to show, well, two things: there are plenty of opportunities to entertain yourself without sitting in front of the television; and, what people will say in do in public has ceased to amaze me.
Michael Hutchense preferred "Hangin' With Mr. Cooper Autoerotic Asphyxiation"--and just like the show, it happened while no one else was watching.
Oh hooray. I love new blog entries. Feels like christmas already. I feel I should mention that my introduction to this subject matter came from a South Park episode that also featured the "dirty sanchez" and stole my innocence forever.
post script! Thanks for linking to my blog.
Oh A to B, you sissy Toronto-ites, first you're all bent out of shape just because a happy-go-drunky Aussie spits on your shoes at OJ's, and now you're all huffy about domestic abuse? Welcome to the West, my friend, the West wants in and we have every intention of getting there via muscle, spit, and domestic abuse. (I'm assuming your brush with the Danza-Sutra happened left on the map (right on the sphere) of Manitoba)
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