The one with the Ostrich and the V-Jay Jay

The one with the Ostrich and the V-Jay Jay, originally uploaded by allanismsf.

REPOSTING, still one of my favorites...


So this past week I was attending a housewarming party for our good friends, Kevin (A very distinctively talented film maker) and Jeph (A hunky, bearish ball of giggly sunshine.)
Both have been blissfully bonded together for nearly two years now and have recently moved into a larger flat nestled not far above the Castro; Far enough away to enjoy the quiet of the neighborhood, yet close enough to occasionally hear the Drag Queens belting out the latest from Miley or Cher.

The apartment, much like themselves, was decorated in quite a distinct balance of humor and class.

Populating their wall in the living room were various posters of respectable movies: Donnie Darko, Psycho and Pintaro Road. On the opposite end of the room sat the bookshelf with original editions of Empire of the Sun and various smatterings of poetry from Pablo Neruda. Elsewhere sat old Brownie cameras and coasters made from classic records.

The Gathering itself was quite well planned out.

In their kitchen, besides the usual dash of alcoholic mixers, were Cucumber Tea Sandwiches, chips, dips and of course, donuts---a staple among bears in any party.

After a time, the congregation eventually broke into two groups. One kitchen bound and the other having migrated to the main room.

In the kitchen, after floating back and forth between the two rooms, I was treated to intellectual discussions of Politics, The Pope, and ex-boyfriends. An interesting combination for sure.

I grabbed myself a tea sandwich, a yummy doughnut and headed back to the living room, where I came upon the following subject matter:

“I am thoroughly convinced that Stephen King is gay simply because of his take on the human Vagina. In nearly every book it either has scales, tentacles or sharp teeth coming out of it!”

“OMG Yes you are so right!” Kevin was amazed at this revelation.

“I figure his next book will have a hand, a gun or something else coming out of it.”

One person chimed in “An Ostrich!”

Laughter exploded and could be heard down towards the kitchen.

Kevin’s eyes widened.” Well then it would seem that Ostriches are a lot smarter than we give them credit, and have an understanding of space and time that we could never comprehend.” He reclined in his chair relishing this new concept. “Think about it. They aren’t poking their heads into the sand to simply escape or hide from their enemies—they are going down there to magically transport themselves out of danger and into some woman’s vagina some place in the world!”

My mind began to race at the possibilities…


***
Off in the distance, in a high rise office building down in the Embarcadero, Jane Doe is sitting comfortably at her desk, typing frantically at the keyboard, preparing the next weeks projections for sustainable goods and services when BAM!!!

“SQUAAAK!”

Ostrich head pokes out of her hoo hoo!

***
Further down the state in a well-to-do part of Los Angeles, Britney Spears is getting out of her Sky Blue Lamborghini and not wearing any undergarments----again!

The paparazzi crowds around her hoping to get the next big shot when all of a sudden POOF!!!

“SQUAAAAAKKKKK!”

Ostrich head emerges from her poonanie.

Camera shutters open and close in a frantic attempt to catch the phenomenon before the ostrich departs.

***
Over at Buckingham Palace, Queen Elizabeth is sitting with the new Prime Minister, David Cameron.

It is Thursday and they are both facing each other, resting comfortably on high back padded chairs which are decorated with old English roses.

Big Ben chimes an afternoon chorus off in the distance.

She has just raised a cup of her favorite Yunnan Black Tea to her lips when KAPOW!!!

“SQUAAAKKKKAAAAKKK!!!

Ostrich head arises from her wizard’s sleeve.

She shivers, yet retains her stately composition.

***

Alas, now I know the true reason I never liked going down on women in high school, and possibly one of the more unintentional reasons for my coming out.

It wasn’t the smell, or the texture, or the taste.

It was the fear of an ostrich suddenly emerging me and choking me to death.