Back with a vengeance…

Monday, December 1, 2008 by Myke.

“I jerked off behind a Jiffy Lube.”

“That’s new.”

“Yep.”

“Were you out in the open?”

“Yeah. Cars were moving all about and someone stared at me while I did it.”

“Did he jerk off too.”

“No, it was a woman.”

“Nice.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“How did you react?”

“I kept jerking off.”

“Nice. Did she do anything?”

“I think she called the police.”

“The plot gets thicker”

“Thickens.”

“Whatever. Maybe she was calling a friend to talk about how hot it was.”

“She only dialed a few numbers.”

“Maybe it was a preset.”

“It was the police goddamn it.”

“Did you run?”

“No I finished.”

“Badass.”

“Yep”

“And did she run or keep watching on the sly.”

“On the sly?”

“Did she pretend to do something else, like read a magazine, while sneaking peaks at you?”

“No, she kind of watched me the whole time with the phone to her ear. I think she was describing me.”

“Were you wearing your disguise—hat, sunglasses….”

“Yes….”

“Then you should be Ok.”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“I was jerking off on the hood of my car.”

“You were aiming at the hood of the car?”

“No I was physically on the hood as I jerked off.”

“Spread eagle, balls out? That’s brazen.”

“Uh huh. But I realized later that she might have gotten a look at my license plate.”

“Seems reasonable.”

“What should I do?”

“Deny it.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. Tell them it wasn’t your car. Tell them they got the plate wrong.”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.”

“Right before I came I hopped off, pulled the parking brake, hopped back on, and ghost road my car by the entrance…all while masturbating”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. And 10 other people saw me. I’m sure someone else got the license plate too.”

“Jesus. Was it worth it?”

“I guess.”

“Was there music?”

“…no”

“You hesitated. There was wasn’t there? Please tell me your stereo was playing something.”

“Chumba Wumba’s Tubthumping.”

“No fucking way. Hahahaha”

“It’s not funny”

“Fuck yeah it is. I love that song.”

“It’s pretty good I guess.”

“When did that come out?”

“I don’t know…early 90’s?”

“…I get knocked down , but I get up again, you’re never going to keep me down…I think I’m going to download that.

“Wonderful.”

“Did Chumba Wumba have any other hits?”

“Fuck, I’m not finished.”

“Sorry. What did you leave out? Did you have a dead hooker strapped to the roof? Were you shouting anti-Semitic slurs?”

“No, nothing like that. I was barking.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?

“I wish I knew.”

“What did it sound like?”

“Woof, woof, woof, woof.”

“Did you stroke on the woofs or the break between woofs?”

“Why is that important?”

“Fuck, man….”

“On the woofs”

“Beginners mistake. Did you shimmy?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That song has a good beat. I was curious if you were shrugging your shoulders or swaying your head to the beat.”

“I guess I was swaying my head a little.”

“When was this anyway?”

“20 minutes ago.”

“Fuck. You’re going to get arrested.”

“What should I do?”

“Well, the only advice I really had was to tell you to jerk between woofs.

“That’s helpful.”

“OK, OK. I got an idea.”

“What?”

“Drive back to the Jiffy Lube, park your car, then report it in as stolen. After that, steal a different car and ghost ride again. They won’t be able to pin it on you. They’ll have to assume it is a serial masturbator.

“That might work.”

“Sure it will.”

“Wait, nevermind it won’t work?”

“Why not?”

“I forgot, but in the heat of my orgasm I shouted my name.”

“That’s a pretty big piece to leave out. What did you say exactly?”

“Chris is the ultimate masturbator!”

“Holy f**k Chris, you might have gone to far to come back from this.

“I know, Myke. I know.”

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