Why do some men think that it is okay to sit near your home, while staring at your door, unzip their pants, and make happy with their dinga lings? Why? Was there a quiet voice in your head that morning saying, “Go, go to a cul-de-sac, find a house, park your nasty ass right near it, and get to work on your body part, man.” Well, sir, I’m here to tell you that this neighborhood
Well, sir, I’m here to tell you that this neighborhood don’t want you or your body parts that you decided to be busy with anywhere around here. No sir! You zip up your britches and move away from all neighborhoods ya sick twist!
About 100 years ago when I was living in Birmingham I had the incredible hell of having to deal with 2 stalkers and it was just awful, y’all. One was an older gentleman who would hang around the jewelry store that I worked at and the other was actually one of the employees I worked with.
It was not uncommon for me to look out the window of my second story apartment and see the dude that I worked with in his car busy with himself while looking up at my window. I had to call the cops on him 3 times and he had to get fired from the jewelry before he stopped. The old dude that would hang out in the parking lot waiting for me to either follow home or harass me in the lot, well, let’s just say some friends took care of him for me and he stopped bothering me too. The End . . . and no he’s not dead or missing.
When I was 8 years old, I got the opportunity to go to a public pool with one of my friends one summer and discovered that wankers come in many sizes. There was this older dude that sat hovered over the water spout on the bottom of the pool out in the middle and liked to let his weenie hang out and surf the spray of the jet. I also discovered that same summer, when I was invited a second time to the public pool, that black men do indeed have big ole wankers that often hang out of their speedo’s and they don’t seem to care.
What is with y’all anyway? Old man Jenkins on the spout and young Mr. Speedo dude not giving a damn that their hickory sticks are hangin’ out, really?!
I’ll digress, y’all, I can tell my mom is going to get me for this blog.
Now, moving ahead a few years . . . I was 17 and had made a little bit of money at my first job so I decided to go to what was then Belk Hudson and buy a new shirt or something, I don’t remember. As I’m heading out to my car after my purchase, I see that someone is parked next to me and they are inside so I averted my eyes because in a hot second my butt was going to be in their face as I unlocked the door to my car and that made me a little freaked out because of the way they had parked.
As I’m unlocking my car, no key fobs yet y’all, I hear moaning and heavy breathing coming out of the car that my butt is facing. I turn around thinking the dude is hurt but no, no actually, he is not, he is quite happy with his attached man toy in his hand. Well, this was a first for me and I thought maybe he was retarded or something so this is what I say, I swear to you, “Hey, fella, yeah you. I don’t think a parking lot is the best place for getting happy with yourself. I think it’s best if you trot on home and handle that little situation ya got going on down there in a better place,” and then I started laughing my ass off at him.
Well, that pissed him the hell off as you can imagine. As I turned to open my door, dude sped off making his tires squeal which made me laugh even harder. Once home, I told my mom what had happened and she hit the roof and asked if I had even realized what he was doing next to my car? I said, “Well, clearly he was beating off mom, he chose the wrong place to do it, bless him.” My mom looked at me as if I had grown 48 1/2 heads, threw her arms up in the air, and walked away. Now, a little later on, I realized that this was not what most women would have done at all, they would have freaked out but why freak out when laughing seems so much more effective?
Moving on . . .
So I have been exposed to wankers for a long time now and without permission granted to do so, fellas. You may be fascinated with your little wonder boy down there but we are not, ESPECIALLY if you force a show on us, y’all. Gross!
My blog is fueled today by a fella that decided to park his ass 15 feet from my house, sit on one of those green wire boxes in our yards for power or whatever, unzip his pants, pull out his little friend, and get him going while staring at my house unbeknownst to me. Now, you may wonder, how does she know this and here’s how . . .
You see weenie man, I have eyes all over the place, eyes that care about me, my family, and my neighbors. In fact, it was the mom of one of my friends who was visiting her daughter and decided to go on a walk in my cul-de-sac and as she passed you after getting off of the sidewalk and walked into the street because as she neared you, you sick twist, she realized what you were doing, she ran back home, got her daughter, and they drove back to get a look at you but you must be a quick finisher because you were gone ya nasty ass man. They were so concerned because you think this is okay, that they sent me a text very worried about the situation you have created with your unwanted presence in my neighborhood.
Sir, as I told the weenie dude when I was 17, there is a time and a place for things like this and it’s not on a green wire box in my neighbor’s front yard in the middle of the morning. What you did was not okay and if I ever see you over there again, here’s what you need to expect so think long and hard before you even come back . . .
- I will trot right over towards you with my camera ready.
- I will walk right up to you and first take a picture of your face first and then I will take a picture of your weenie with your hand attached.
- Then I will taser you so when I walk away, I can call the police and that will give them a bit of time to get there while you are recovering. Depending on my mood, you might get tazzed in your chest AND your weenie, so try not to piss me off too bad, buddy.
Men with weenies in hand out in public, your time is up. Zip your damn pants up and move the hell on!