It’s Too Loud and I’m Too Old

As all refined people know, expressions of  gangster/homeboy sexuality are the enemy. Their muscular, tone bodies and strong complexions only remind me of my own inadequacies as a flabby, tight-belted, unfashionable thirtysomething codger. We’ve  all seen those bumper-stickers (which I disagree with by the way) that say “If it’s too loud, you’re too old.” Well, to riff on a similar withered vein, I must bring to your attention that I don’t like people who play their music loud enough that I can hear every single lyric, and I can’t help feeling mildly insulted/irritated when some young punk walks around with his pants past his knees to the point where I can see the entire outline of his ass protruding through his boxers. Like I said, it reminds me of my own temerity and lack of appeal. However, I’m non confrontational and believe that love will solve all problems.  I will go behind young black,white, Latino, men and tell them just how much I admire their physical fitness as revealed to me by the exposure of their undergarments.

“Hey man, nice boxers, ooooh, baby.” After verifying the tautness of some young man’s hindquarters I could compliment him.  In another, similar situation: “Man, looking at your rear I’d have to say you’re in shape, tiger.” These young men, bright with positive self-image and health would no doubt appreciate the kind words of the paunchy, balding white man known throughout the neighborhood for checking out their asses. Although I’m overflowing with praise, I do have a question I might need to ask:  “What do you gangstas do if you get in a fight? Do you have an “emergency belt” that you gird around your waist in one single fluid motion? I guess the same applies to running." I’ll spare your pristine sensibilities only to speculate allowed that certainly bodily functions, during and after must be akward if fabric gets caught or puffs out like I think it might.