Last weekend we had a houseguest, and you know what they say about houseguests …
He’s a friend of ours that I met when I met Carlos at the beginning of the century. He’s funny, smart, and a bit of a perv. I love when he wants to talk politics and architecture and history, but then he suddenly veers into a conversation of dick size, and wouldn’t you f**k him, and, well, it’s all a little much. But, he came bearing gifts, or so he said, so I thought it might be a nice weekend. He came out of his room carrying an object and said it was for Carlos.
To me, it looked like a flashlight, and since Carlos has issues with his night vision, that’s what I thought. But Carlos was twisting off the top and when it came off, I thought I saw a lens on the top; flashlight. Oh wait, there’s a slit in the ‘lens’ and, yes, not a flashlight, but a Fleshlight; a toy some men use to, um, choke their chicken, spank their monkey, audition their hand puppet, clean their rifle … you get the idea.
Anyway, not the kind of ‘gift’ you’d expect from a sixty-six-year-old retired attorney from New York City who sounds more than a little like Beverly Leslie from Will and Grace.
But the best part? After the houseguest left, Carlos and I were talking about the gift and Carlos said … “At first I thought it was a martini shaker.” And that was no euphemism for the Five Knuckle Shuffle. And then he says, “When the lid came off I thought it was a bathroom deodorizer.”
Oy, Carlo. You gotta love him. I know I do.
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