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August 1999 A Visit to Trixie's
Think you're au courant on slang? Decipher the following. Answers are below: Charley's got an itch. hussy's outta town visiting aunt flo, and his stroke books are too dog-eared for merchant banking. Charley is cash-and-carried. But if he's not entirely a mattress-muncher, he's no norman normal, either. One thing's clear-- Saturday night's no time to keep a rocket in your pocket. Charley gets in his car, hot to trot and ready to two-time. He heads to Trixie's, the place in town for calendar kids. Maybe tonight, he thinks as he drives, he'll go for a slice of danish. The disco music booms, and Trixie's is packed with the bar's usual mix of colonel sanders and copenhagen capons. As his eyes adjust to the smoky darkness, Charley sees an oreo cookie, its three mouths slurping away in a hidden corner. "That's Trixie's for you," he smiles to himself. "Hey, payboy," Melbaline shouts above the din when she spots Charley coming through the door. One of Trixie's resident trannies, she emerges from the crowd to greet her sometimes cold biscuit. Melbaline stoops her six-foot-three frame to put her arm around five-foot Charley's shoulder. "How's it hangin'?" he queries, looking up into mascaraed eyes. Melbaline presses her silicone sally's against Charley's nose. "Be my meal ticket, big burger, and I'll show you a good time." "One second," Charley replies. "I gotta ride the porcelain bus." Charley makes his way through the crowd to the french embassy at Trixie's rear. He finds an empty stall and is just burying a quaker when a seven-inch kosher dill pokes its head through a glory hole. "Fraternité et egalité," Charley thinks as he gets on his knees to play the piccolo. Either Charley's a skilled philatelist or it's quentin quickfire behind the partition, because with no dill or dally, this pickle's pulsing. Charley's mouth fills with tadpole treacle. He spits the squirt into the toilet, stands, and pulls a pesky strand of downshire from his north and south. "What goes around comes around," Charley quips encouragingly to unseen Quentin in the next stall. Charley may be short in stature, but you wouldn't know it as he pokes a glorious 8-1/2-inch canadian through the hole. A welcoming hand receives the custard-chucker and pulls back the whickerbill, as a tongue proceeds to clean the bald-headed hermit. Six minutes later and Charley's crashed the yogurt truck. He flushes, zips, and leaves the crapper with a contented smile. "Maybe next month Melbaline," Charley shouts to the dejected dolly mop as he heads out of Trixie's for home. **
KEY: got an itch-- be horny; hussy-- wife; visting Aunt Flo-- have a menstrual period; stroke books-- porn magazines; merchant banking-- masturbation; cash-and-carried-- married; mattress-muncher-- homosexual; Norman Normal-- straight man; keep a rocket in your pocket-- have a hard-on; two-time-- have sex outside a relationship; calendar kids-- hustlers; slice of danish-- transsexual prostitute; Colonel Sanders-- underaged boys, "chicken"; Copenhagen capons-- transsexual prostitutes; Oreo cookie-- menage ŕ trois; payboy-- prostitute's customer; trannies-- tranvestite or transexual; cold biscuit-- prostitute's customer; silicone sally's-- artificially enhanced breasts; meal ticket-- prostitute's customer; big burger-- prostitute's customer; ride the porcelain bus-- defecate; French embassy-- toilet used for public (oral) sex; bury a Quaker-- take a shit; kosher dill-- circumcised penis; play the piccolo-- suck cock; philatelist-- person performing fellatio; Quentin Quickfire-- premature ejaculator; tadpole treacle-- ejaculate; squirt-- ejaculate; downshire-- pubic hair; north and south-- mouth; Canadian-- uncircumcised penis; whickerbill-- foreskin; bald-headed hermit-- glans of an uncircumcised cock; crashed the yogurt truck-- ejaculate; dolly mop-- transvestite prostitute. **
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