Crotch my heart and hope to die

(an earlier post, while i write-type out the new ones...the thoughts remain the same)

As you read this — mostly in airconditioned offices — unless you are bunking work or class, or are between jobs or are simply killing time — remember that this has been written with no electricity, two candles, dog paw, cat smell, shorts, tank top, no food, no water in the house, pending deadlines, in someone else's house, but home alone and a level high-er (or lower, depending on which side of the fence you're on) than normal/regular/accepted/legal.

My dog is going in circles; and not after its tail. Observation: No matter how many plants a dog destroys, certain herbs are not meant for it. Also, absolutely unplanned, I am down by a grand. Yup, there comes the Cash word again. And when i am not thinking that C, there's another C i am thinking of... CROTCH. More specifically, or pointedly, the male crotch. Wherein nestles the centre of a man's being. His medula oblongata. His central nervous system with double back-up.

If research says that a man thinks of sex every 7 seconds, the other 53 he spends concerned about his crotch. Shobhaa De, long time back, had written (not exact quote), “When not occupies, a man's hand(s) will always rest on/near his crotch." Do observe. I have and it's true. That's why man invented the automative drive in cars. He could rest his hands on his crotch. Or for that matter, touchpads. Why type with two hands when you can touch with one and well, touch with the other as well? Point? A guy's life is centered around his crotch. And i think we women seriously undermine The Package.

Even yours truly has been guilty of merely calling The Package, “some extra flesh between a man's legs." I apologise. How can it just be 'some flesh'? Definitely not if you have ever noticed the way every guy has a different Package parking style — they take their time over it and every parking has a specific purpose.

Some turn their Package downwards, others heavenwards, yet others stuff it under their vests (inside their undies, yeah, weird) to keep the boy down. Then of course there are the Boxer Boys who have free parking... the Package moves at will. Some do it to show off their bulge. Others because they visit sites that give them a mid-meeting boner that they dont want to advertise. And no matter who you date, how you date, each guy will ask at some point or the other, “So, what do you think of my Package?“ And mind you, dont be fooled, some of them laugh when asking this, pretending it really doesn't matter, and they "just want to know". Which brings me to what made me think crotches in the first place.

The whole boob-staring thing. Beyond the objectification, if the Package is so important — when kicked it hurts, when stroked it purrs (spurts? ha ha) — how come we women DON'T stare at the Package when walking down pavements or travelling in autos? How is it that no matter how much the 'bulge', we don't have our eyesballs bulging out and we don't go, “Yeah baby, i love your ball size?" Gotta do something about this. The next time my boob is grabbed, am going straight for the Package. So what if i squeeze 'em a bit too hard, it's the heat of the moment after all.