09-07-2017, 12:54 PM
(09-07-2017, 09:29 AM)BIAD Wrote:(09-06-2017, 09:08 PM)Mystic Wanderer Wrote: Oh, I wasn't implying you MEANT to.
*Boy In A Dress looks around and ponders Mystic's suggestion that phallic symbols are
being subtly placed around him.
It's almost 9.00.am and a large truck pulls up just over the high fence from his shed.
"Let's see if I can slip this long-one in today" a rough-sounding voice calls from it's cab
and hearing the creak of a person getting out of the truck, BIAD goes to investigate.
The replacing of old street lamps for the new eco-friendly ones had been going on all week
and now with Mystic implying that a covert plan to make everything look like human genitalia,
the curious Man-Girl went to discover if the very workforce that implements the introduction
of metal wangers and doors that looked like 'de pussy, were aware of the subliminal scheme.
"Does that look like a man's dick to you?" BIAD asked as the craggy fellow in overalls dragged
a pneumatic drill from the back of the truck. Even then, Boy In A Dress also mused on whether
the air-powered chisel would fall into that category too.
The middle-aged chap frowned in puzzlement at the query, but as the questioner came appeared
from behind the open truck door, his sudden focus on BIAD's ample assets caused to him to reply
vaguely with "only if you want it to?"
For a few minutes, the worker and the hermaphrodite discussed the subject of Governmental
application of sexual arousal in it's public for uses in advertising and dehumanising tradtional
values.
After agreeing that when two melons on display on a shop shelf can create a better type of
purchasing power -an idea Boy In A Dress suggested solely on the fact that Mrs. Miggins'
daughter 'Big Babs', waved from her mother's window at him, BIAD apologised for delaying the
man from his employment and excused himself.
Noticing a large unopened toadstool growing in the grass verge that separated the garden fence
from the road, BIAD bent down and scrutinised the spore-bearing fungus.
Resigning himself to his drilling, the worker fired up the pneumatic device at the same moment
and so, had lost interest on the recent topic.
"What about this..." the Man-Girl asked and forgetful of his unwillingness to sport underwear,
squatted to investigate the poisonous morel further. "...does this look like a guy's bald-headed
yogurt-slinger?"
Reported later by Mrs. Miggins' daughter, it's said that the labourer took out a garden gnome,
a ford-fiesta's side wing and most of the rear-end of his truck before he regained control of the
concrete-cutting tool.
The flaccid street lamp is still waiting to go in it's hole.*
