Birthday Suits And Sausages

A Nightly Hoe Talk While Passing a Ziggy

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Evening 8:30 pm, July hottest as the models on my best friend’s bathroom wall. I was taking a piss, confused at why the bathroom was filled with Pamela Anderson's Barbwire poster. Joeseph was a die-hard fan. Bet he dreamed of the stilettos being pressed against his ballsack meanwhile Pam pronouncing her famous phrase, “Don’t call me, babe.”

Moving to wash my hands on the sink, couldn’t touch that soap — brought back weird memories of Joey’s talk about how he used soap, to cleanse his demons every night. Passed on that soap, and washed my hands with water instead.

Came outside, closing the door — on the doorknob said, “hold me, softly please.” As much as creepy it got, came outside and there he was on the porch sitting. Meanwhile, Edgar asking Joe “hey could you pass me a smoke?” Ed suffered from anxiety, and whenever he would get his attack — he’d ask us for a smoke.

I was never a smoker, yet today seemed like any other day. I sat beside them, Joe passed a blunt to Edgar and he took a whiff. He choked halfway, coughing. In the meantime, I took a tic tac and as the pellet was slowly dissolving in my mouth. Edgar murmured something profane, “Hey guys, have you ever tried to suck your own dick?” This caught us by surprise, Joey and I literally choked on the cigarette — laughing.

Ed was serious, and we asked him — “are you high?” He replied, with a weird tone “what?” We asked him, whether he was in his senses. He continued to tell us, “he tried sucking his own dick, but couldn’t reach it.” I had heard weird shit with these folks, but this was the first time I heard a dude about stroking his own chicken. He said, sadly he failed a few days back and kinda cut himself. I was taken aback at hoe jaggery that was going on. Joey said, “I’ve never tried it but what does it feel like?” Ed replied, “well it feels like a dry cucumber.” I took a few steps far from both of them as what was about to go down was not what I wanted.

I replied, “stay away from me dude.” I wasn’t afraid, I just didn't want Edgar eating my birthday sausage. Those two assholes were already smoking weed. The last thing I needed was them, hosting their jaws on my popsicle. Edgar laughed — “Lol, got ya spooked right!” Though how weird it seemed, it couldn’t get weirder than this. I bid my farewell to those jackasses and went home.

Next morning I came to meet them, again. I went to get a few of my things, from Joey’s room and there I saw something unGodly. Edgar was sitting in the bathroom choking his chicken — slobbering knee-deep.

Thank you so much for reading!

I write about life, and the hope it bears in a poetic context. 💖🕊️

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