WINE, WINGS, AND PORNO Pt 2: The Conclusion

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He stood with a tense stare as he held a tray of chicken wings in one hand, and clasping the glass of white wine in another His dark tone skin had suddenly become fluster like a darkened ripe cherry.  Being embarrassed was a small understatement compared to the anger I was feeling at that moment.

“Don’t make me ask you again” I snapped while holding the pair of his deviant videos, “What the f*** is this?”

It seemed for him, the cat certainly had his tongue.  Any words he tried to strum for an excuse were muted.  He was busted, and he knew it. 

His apprehensive body stance was obvious.  Maybe his depraved soul were feeling a bit embarrassed.  After all, he couldn’t look me or his Animals Gone Wild videos in the eye.  Mr. Man kept his focus on everything in the room, but to the main focal point of the conversation.  “Look, Mani” He sighed, “I can explain”.

“What’s there to explain?  The evidence is staring back at me” I quickly replied.

Then he said the words that only took my pissed-off anger to another magnitude “There only videos, Mani” he suggested.

Videos?


Watching a relaxing movie like Bambi with the kids is a video.  Enjoying boring home movies are videos.  Having a movie date night with the honey is a video.  Or, watching a guilty pleasure, such as, an entire season of reality TV shows, they’re videos as well. What I held my hands went far beyond a realm of any pornography.  You know the saying, when you lie down with a dog, you catch fleas?  This guy had literally taken those words to heart.  Yes—You know where I’m getting at, right?  He had miniature collection of bestiality videos. 

Yep, you read right, a collection of flea bitten, pet dander having, four-legged or eight—whichever—of humans doing gross things with animals. 

As I said in last week’s post, I don’t have anything against anyone who watches porn.  I, myself, used to occasionally watch those videos.  Yet, when people do watch porn, they carry a silent fascination of some sorts.  If a couple watches porn, they’re most likely to try the moves.  If a straight person watches gay or lesbian videos, they’re most likely to have a silent curiosity of a bi-nature.  So it won’t be any different if someone, like this guy, has a morbid curiosity for animals.

Meanwhile as I’m still flagging those videos in his face like a scorned woman, I instantly asked him, “What did you expect would happen if I watch this shit with you?”

With pound puppy eyes, he shrugged his shoulders in silence.  I guess he couldn’t find an explanation for this strange fetish.  Actually, if I was him I would’ve crawled underneath a boulder and never show my face to society.  Besides if he didn’t want to get busted, he should’ve stashed them in a location away from movies like Beauty and the Beast or All Dogs Goes to Heaven. Then again, does he sort ALL of his movies by animals instead of genres?

Anyway back at that moment...

I tossed his furry perverted pleasure on top of the chicken wings, and huffed past him to grab my purse.  “You know this has to be a form of a mental condition” I warned him, “And you realize there are other movies besides this shit!”

“Mani, you’re tripping for no reason at all.  There only movies, and that’s it” he pleaded.

I stormed toward the door without recognizing his reply, but I suddenly stopped to turn back at him.  “Let me ask you a question, do you have a curious thing about these videos?"

His eyes grew wide like a deer in headlights, and began to stammer around his words.  The answer should’ve been easy to conjure. No, Mani, should have been sufficient.  Instead he continued to be a broken record by repeating the same three words, there only videos. 


With that response, I left.  That was the last time I’ve heard from him until a recent phone call which had lead me to write this two part blog.  The conversation was short.  He asked me how I was doing, and I asked him point blank did he stop watching those videos.  Then he fell silent, and replied with a very slow no.  So with a raise of my eyebrow, I sensed his BS floating through the stratosphere, polluting what was left of the environment, and hung up on him.  He hasn’t called since.  Good.

Overall, I have never submitted to be anyone’s bitch—now then, not now, and not ever and not figuratively, and especially literally. 

So next time when you’re on a date, and you’re at their house or apartment. Check the DVD collection. If you see something that says Freddie Does Fido or Slithering Heights, run!

Damn sick puppy!



The end.


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