Tramp Stamp

Kirk Carter@ Chew Bear Productions@ Copyright 2014

Tramp Stamp

It's probably no surprise that Michelle and me have a pretty open relationship. I like her as my woman, Michelle like the same, where as yours truly is allowed to once in awhile...take part. I'm not complaining...she's full of surprises and my only function seems to be playing the part of the dude in the picture...and for all of you guys reading this, I do my best to keep up, to take one on for the menfolk, to make you proud...what a life!

So, she brings home a co-worker and we introduce. I go about my business while Michelle does hers...that is exploring her co-worker...I'm not a voyeur here, I've been there, I know what women, well certain women anyway, experience with each other. I just give them their privacy, they deserve their moments...they are the dominate sex. One must respect the obvious!

Michelle already knows in her heart that I may be smarter than she can ever hope to be...I will always be there to worship her. I am her manhood putty, what would you like to mold me into?

I'm cool with that!

Although my 420 moments have long disappeared (due to contractual obligations), the girls enjoy the substance while I relegate some Grey Goose over some rare, limited ice cubes that were transported over open aqueducts (to intensify the flavor?) from my old stomping grounds around Lake Mead. The ice breaks down quickly with loud crackling sounds as the grape based French vodka meets it's challenge. I smile as Michelle has summoned me in, finally introducing me to her co-worker...this beautiful form of female perfection! I am finally allowed into her house of worship, it's a special moment for me, as I know that I'm about to experience almost every guy's hidden fantasy. Only difference is...I actually do!  

At this point, I will be like one of my mentors Alfred Hitchcock and just let you use your imagination...however, please hurry with your fantasy thinking, as we all have other things to do before the sun sets today! 

So, unless your a Jehovah's Witness, a 7th Day Adventist, or have just reread the Book of Mormon (really again?), then at some point you reach that must sought after no-man's land. The reason I've always tried not to do things that would send me to prison, was so I'd never have to face some guy named "Big Jake" or something...having his way with me! It's completely off limits. Fortunately, Michelle totally understands and has never tried to prod me with any false image of my manhood. Gee, thanks Michelle for not sodomizing me...really appreciate that!

However, her friend, this co-worker lovely...is saying, "Hey, I'm game, I'm open season...explore me!" I ask you my reader friends, what would you do? And so, with Credence Clearwater  vibrating "Bad Moon Rising" over my Visio 7.1 system to the point where I thought the speakers were going to vibrate the screws out of the freaking walls, as the girls had graciously encouraged me to get to this point of arousal, that it was now time for purpose, for function...basically do my duty of why I was there to start with...

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(Disclaimer Moment)

Before you start pointing fingers at me, making your assumptions, do you really think that Larry David and Seinfeld's dry Jewish humor was funny? It was...right? As they laughed their way all the way to the bank with over a billion dollars writing basically crap about nothing? Steve Caroll and Jude Apatow for that piece of shit the "40 Year Old Virgin"? (Jude already knows how much I hated the way he ended the movie, and I've never really liked him too much to begin with!) These guys have to write fart and butt jokes just to give Woody Harrelson something to do. Like most of my Jewish friends (which I pick on, but truly Love), they are just wanna-be's...they write about stuff that never really happens...they just aren't positioned for the real experience, sorry guys.

And finally, my 83 year old Jewish agent/ attorney is constantly screaming at me for being a long-haired Polish Episcopalian who seems soft and apologetic about making risque statements about situations of the bizarre. Quite frankly, situational comedy or dramatic avenues we investigate on the human condition just blows my freaking mind...a lot! She simply tells me, "Kirk, nobody cares about your guilt trip...just entertain the masses...I'm sure their open-minded to your perverted sickness anyway...I know I am!" Thanks for the thumbs up Barb...now back to the show! 

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So, with all that being said, I was before...I mean behind the eager co-worker, and as I stare down to the area of her lower back, right above her buttocks, I see this huge Butterfly with fabricated legs wearing high-heels riding a motorcycle with a caption that read, "Harley Girl". I stopped, everything went limp, and I went into discussion, leaving the girls confused as to why I couldn't go any further. Both girls, now staring at me, I explained that marks like that were against my religion, my upbringing, my culture. They both start cracking up, laughing their asses off..."Really, really Kirk, it's just a fucking Tramp Stamp, get over it!"

I reminded Michelle that she was Tat-less, so she needed to exclude herself from any form of comparative analysis. I simply said, "If your from the military, maybe part of a gang, possessed by a situation or special moment, why not? But, all in all, marking your body, showing your allegiance for a particular moment, really?...It's all voluntary, are we making a social statement here, no it's a fad, a gimmick of commerce, which exploits people's body's like a common billboard...we are special and unique human beings, and to just go and sell ourselves out for some singular moment of passion, just cheapens your self image, of those around you...that moment passes, but the tat stays, constantly there, reminding you of a time that you may wish to forget, and as time moves on, trying to explain it's origins to strangers and new acquaintances...and now either that or removal at great expense...all of this based on some convoluted form form of slave worship, marks of possession...like studs and nose rings...this is the way owners marked their human possessions, like livestock...it's the way they marked their submissive's with brands and tats, and even jewelry itself only came into fashion as chattel insuring worth for a proper burial...the Jews were marked for proper indexing and verification right before most faced the ovens and disposed of...and even in the Bible and the Koran, there seems to be a sin implied when one marks their body with intent!"

The co-worker, now silent...almost tearing up...promising me that she was going to have it removed. I told her that it wasn't necessary, that what is done is done, and not to take it personally...it was her body, don't listen to my opinion...it's just a personal thing with me, didn't mean to be offensive here. After all, it did what it was suppose to do...we all know that at one time at least...you were...a Harley Girl!

She laughed, Michelle laughed, I did a couple of shots of the Goose and proceeded to seal the deal...after all, even I can over look a clerical error!

The next day, as Michelle and me shared a hammock on the beach in Oxnard, feet intertwined, watching the sun go down, enjoying a couple of snifters of Port, she said, "You embarrass me your your ethics sometimes, but I wouldn't have you any other way!" I smiled back as we tapped our glasses, "Hey, how about (Always For Kirk) for your Tramp Stamp and I'll do a (Michelle Forever) on my forearm?" Michelle smiled, "Temporary Ink?" 

"Of course", I said..."You just never know when I might start drifting on you...having to explain who that Michelle was all about?"

Michelle looked back, leaning over and kissing my cheek, "Kirk, they wouldn't believe you anyway, sounds too made up!" 

I coined back, "I think that tattoo parlor down the beach is open till 8...we can still make it if we hurry!"

Michelle laughed, "Shut up and drink your wine...I'll brand your ass, you whackadoo!"

Under breath I replied, "Promise?"

(Scene Close)