It was a girl, I think, now that I look back on it from this present time that started me down this long, devious, and twisted path. A girl who put me into the current frame of mind and this powerful presence of self empowerment. A hundred thousand lies upon lies that perpetuate this dastardly, diabolical duet dancing to the tune of some unholy ballet from hell. It’s all bullshit. Some silly suturing idea of a beautiful being, wrapped up in boots and black leather will drift down and appear to me like the Virgin Mary in the deep dark desolate desert. It’s fucking tragic and so god damn beautiful… I laugh my dick right off.
The one who hangs right outside the barbwire fence on the south-east side of the camp for corpulent young women. He’s out there all day eyeballing the Biggums as they saunter by on their daily jaunts about the undergrowth, taking pant after puff from his long rockets whilst the Boom-Box, plastic zip-tied to the front of his ten-speed, thumps out Unskinny Bop by Poison in excess.
Outfitted with only an unzipped black leather jacket, a pair of teal “Sleep Away Camp” gym shorts, and a red, white and blue headband, he intermittently whistles at each rotund goddess that he deems laudable of a hand job and a hot tub. He knew he had an obsession early in life when he found himself jerking off to Pillsbury Doh-Boy commercials. Now-a-days, this is where he hangs- outside the camp enticing the “chosen” girls with Fun-Size Snickers bars in a reflection of delightful excellence. They call him the Snake Charmer.