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June 2008 Volume 10 , Issue 6 submit to us!

by Judy J Thompson -- Contributing Author [Email This Story]

For years I have watched the 'bad boy' of our neighborhood rant, rave and move his body around in jerky, spasmodic movements. Flailing his arms and making gang signs with his fingers at fellow neighbors, his 'homeys and his wife and kids.

Us - normal folks on the street - referred to these displays of bad conduct as mental meltdowns. They usually started with a huge groan emitted from his house which could be heard up and down the street. Followed by rapid fire of the F-bombs, usually directed at his children and then a kick to his poor, battered screen door with the culprit rocketing out of his house and onto the street. As fast as he had catapulted out of his place of residence, he would stomp down the street, pulling at his hair and yelling at anyone who crossed his path. The gang signs started along with the jerking around of his body like he is experiencing an epileptic seizure. Then he does the icing-on-the-cake gesture, the big penis squeeze.

Did all this excitement make him feel like he has to go to the bathroom? So like a small boy-child, who doesn't know any better, squeezes his package to stop the feeling.

When these fits of frustration first occurred, I had the urge to rush out with a popsicle stick, thinking this 'bad boy' had a medical problem. Fear that he would bite his tongue off or swallow it like one has heard epileptic victims often do.

As time wore on, the urge to rush out with tongue depressors waned and was replaced by the wish that he would bite his tongue off or better yet, stick a pencil or popsicle stick down his throat and leave it there. Then we -- the normal neighbors - wouldn't be subjected to his bouts of obscenity use and the temper tantrums.

As I watched from my porch over the years, 'Bad Boy' seemed to handle his family jewels with such frequency that his own sons have followed suit. Today, the man can't have a normal conversation without squeezing his jackpot at least three times in a five minute span.

Unfortunately he is not the only grown man that has been afflicted with this gonad-grabbing epidemic. More often I see young men having to feel their downtown area in public. In my day, any man who had the nerve to feel himself up in such a public spectacle was accused of playing pocket pool and labeled a creep or a freak.

Just recently while I was sitting in a restaurant, I spied a young man in a store trying on a sweater and sunglasses. As he primped and preened in the mirror, he suddenly jerked his pelvic area back and forth and diddled with his middle. Patrons in the mall could see this display of sexual self love because the store walls were panes of glass. Did this dude like the sweater that much, that he was so turned on, that he had to reward himself with a penis pat? Unbeknown to this dude, people were pointing and laughing at him.

Now I can understand that having something outside the body can be cumbersome and needing adjustment, but what these young twenty-somethings do is not the hand-down-the-pants-ball-adjustment or the slight-shift-to-one-side adjustment with either their fingers or inside thigh, this is an all around fondling of ones self.

Personally, I think this wanker wrenching all started with Michael Jackson, who shocked the world by rubbing his hand on his bone in a music video. And of course, not to be outdone by her brother, Janet Jackson had to follow suit, the copycat! So not only do you have men stroking themselves, but now the ladies too.

Now, you turn on the TV and pretty much every video on MTV or Muchmusic, where the performer is a young adult, has the singer doing the genital graze in front of thousands of screaming fans at concerts. So I ran a small poll and found that the majority of male singers (mostly rap) did the old dick do-whop more than the women did the clitoris caress.

At one time, fellows would only touch themselves in the privacy of the shower or in bed, but now they seem to have to honk their horn everywhere they go. The mall is a great gathering place for male horn honking. Young men grab their male parts before either swiping or shaking each other's hands. Ew yuck! I want to offer them hand sanitizer or a baby wipe after seeing this disgusting gesture.

What does this gesture imply? I have to go to the bathroom dude, see ya later. Or maybe it means I am hornier than hell, so you'd better watch out. Is this gesture a new way of saying 'Hi, how ya doin?' or it could mean, I caught the clap and proud of it, even though it itches like the dickens.

This modern male ritual of greeting one another with the love stick swipe reminds me of dogs sniffing each other's behinds out.

All this male copulative organ holding is eye popping to say the least. In the past, boys would grope girls but now they just grope themselves. It must have been all those years at school where the teachers constantly had to yell 'Hands to yourselves boys' and the young men of today's society have taken that saying literally.

Just recently the neighbor 'Bad Boy' swaggered down the street to have a conversation with one of his homeys. He bopped, rolled and swayed around while discussing something with his friend, the gang hand gestures going in full force. Suddenly in my mind I could hear rap crap music going with various whistles, record scratching, dogs barking to the 'bad boy's' gangster rap body language. As he grabbed his male member, I could actually hear a horn honking.

He finished his dance rap conversation and swayed back toward his house, mind you the swaggering could just be one too many beers. When he reached his home, he turned around towards his friend and stuck his left hand up in the air. His baby finger and forefinger were pointing upwards while his right hand performed the pickle pull and at that point in my imaginary rap music performance, an old fashioned car horn went. The kind that sounds like a-oooh-ga. Every time I saw 'bad boy' do the bag brush, the ah-oooh-ga car horn went off in my mind. So much so, that I might have even have given voice to the a-ooh-ga.

As the years wore on 'Bad Boy' became even more annoying. His criminal activities were not going unnoticed either, so much so that we -- the Normals - decided to give him the big squeeze by continuing to call the police on him. Between our cities’s finest and our desire to have this idiot off our street, we constricted his actions so much that we 'squeezed' him right off the street.

Never has a neighborhood been so happy to see the hind end of this Ding-a-ling leave and with his handle in his hands.

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Features -- June 2008 -- Beginning Month Issue