July 1998
s m u g
bumping uglies
by Todd Levin


Public Demonstration and Other Inalienable Rights

Often the not-too-subtle prestige associated with writing a column like "Bumping Uglies" affords me assorted privileges not generally enjoyed by "average" citizens. In fact, when I'm not eating all the free candy my readers send me (please continue sending candy - I find it both delicious and free), I will try to find occasion to use this column as a vehicle for raising, addressing and often completely misinterpreting through ignorance or carelessness serious political platforms that may affect many of your "normal" lives.

For instance, regular (translation: incarcerated) readers of this column will recall the September 1997 SMUG (the "Lactose Intolerant" issue) in which I exploited my precious space to talk openly about the dangers of wearing 3D glasses while watching a regular 2D pornographic video. (For those of you who missed the column, let me reiterate: for the love of God, don't believe the 3D glasses salesman at the video store who tells you that you can "turn any boring old porno into a eye-poppin' 3D Boob-a-tarium" just by putting on a pair of 3D glasses. If you do listen, you will get nothing more than a migraine headache and a bad case of egg-on-your-face, which is unpleasant because of both the sulfurous odor and the fact that egg obstructs your view of the wigglin', jigglin' 2D Lost City of Boob-lantis you could be enjoying on your television screen) Recent incidents in my own life have moved me to dedicate this month's column to a topic that impacts the lives of nearly every man, woman and child in the world - public masturbation (naturally, agoraphobics will want to ignore this column).

If I could please have a moment of undivided attention from all chronic public masturbators currently reading this column (which, our 1st quarter server tracking analysis reports indicate is approximately 97% percent of you), I would like to say just one thing to you: invisibility pills don't work!

I work out a lot. A lot. Seriously. Anyway, working out as much as I do (Which is, incidentally, a lot. It is no small wonder that I have time for anything else these days.) I have become somewhat susceptible to the whole "vitamin" craze. Sometimes right after a long workout, some of my gym partners and I will head back to someone's apartment and gobble down fistfuls of vitamins and supplements. My friend, Nicky, always takes these vitamins that are generally only ingested by race horses and are therefore not as easy to get at your local Vitamin Hut (or, if you prefer, Lou Ferrigno's Mega Vita-Way, or any of the other major retail chains). That's how we met Chancre Tony.

Chancre Tony (that's not his Christian name, in case you were wondering; he changed it when he moved to Hollywood back in the eighties) deals in the "hard-to-find" vitamin supplements for the health nut who is so fanatical that even anti-drug trafficking legislation cannot get in the way of his need to stay fit. Tony spends a lot of time on Nicky's couch reading personal ads for burn victims and, in return, supplies Nicky with his "hulk rage" pills.

One slow Sunday weekend, I was relaxing in Nicky's apartment with Chancre Tony and Tony happened to notice that I was intently and openly masturbating to a certain television program starring a certain animated gorilla for sale. When I was finished and had removed the plastic wrap from Nicky's Barcalounger as I always do, Tony made me a proposition. He asked me if I ever did this in public - not wrap furniture in plastic (let's leave that to Christo), of course, but masturbate - to which I responded 'no'. That would be, after all, a bit embarrassing. That's when Tony offered to sell me a handful of Invisibility Pills. I was skeptical, naturally. I had been burned before on Karate Expert Pills and had once spent all of my money on a Get Picked Up Hitchhiking by Horny Sorority Sisters Pill, and wound up having to walk home almost 12 miles. Then Chancre Tony assured me that these were the very same pills that HG Wells took when he wrote his memoirs, The Invisible Man, and I said to him, "you sir, have made yourself a sale!"

And I was off to the Cirque Du Soleil (well, I had tickets and, well…forget it).

Now I don't want to say Chancre Tony is a crook (even though I would be in reputable company - including the members of several retirement communities -- if I did say so), but I became a little suspicious of the powers of invisibility as soon as I saw a mother with a near-apocalyptic expression on her face stare directly at me, grab her daughter and flee the circus, leaving a spilled trail of Camembert cheese-flavored popcorn and another child behind her. And I had just then removed my pants. It was unnerving. I took the pills just before getting on the subway and within seconds of hopping on the train, people were already bumping in to me as if I was invisible, and I started to feel OK. I received a few strange looks while I whistled the Magilla Gorilla music loudly on the train, but I assumed that was because the transit passengers were struck by the haunting, ethereal sound emanating from an "empty" seat on the train.

I think was overconfident when I arrived at the circus. But Tony was so charming when he wasn't vomiting from skunked ketamine hydrochloride. Looking back, I remember only a couple of things from what the New York Post later called the "Jerk Du Soleil": feeling pretty turned-on by the smell of elephants, really loosening up during the indoor fireworks tribute to heavy cream, then hundreds of scared children, angry parents, clowns drinking wine, shouts of 'Policier!', and then feeling pretty turned-off by the smell of the French.

I think I would have been treated more kindly by the law and would have had a better defense in court had I not been observed by several witnesses as "[allegedly - my lawyer said I could put that in if it made me feel any better] masturbating with the passion of bullfighter while pointing at one of the female acrobats and shouting 'I am thinking specifically about you!' at the top of his lungs." Apparently, victimless crimes are treated more fairly by our legal system and in this case the "victimized" circus performer was not without emotional scars (I learned recently, in an interview with the acrobat on Oprah, that she was so upset she decided to quit the Cirque Du Soleil and spend the remaining days of her fragile life staring at a collection of small glass animals. How melodramatic…).

As a result I have sworn off public masturbation (well, at least I don't point anymore). I never did find Chancre Tony again but I hope this month's column was informative and cautionary enough to prevent our good readers from consorting with people like Tony and unwittingly making a difficult mistake in the manner of the one I made at that French circus years ago. Please know this: there are a lot of "wonder drugs" out there that claim they can do amazing things like prevent cancer or cause anal leakage, and there are a lot of reasons to want to masturbate publicly; but if you learn one thing for the rest of your healthy life, please learn that INVISIBILITY PILLS DO NOT WORK if taken within 36 hours of drinking beer.




back to the junk drawer

and such
and such

The Chankstore

·feature· ·net worth· ·bumping uglies· ·smoking jacket· ·ear candy· ·feed hollywood· ·target audience· ·back issues· ·compulsion· ·posedown· ·the biswick files· ·mystery date· ·and such and such· ·blab· ·kissing booth·

·contents· ·freakshow· ·fan club· ·archive·


copyright © 1996 - 1998 fearless media