oh i haven't seen my cousin in a long time,
last time i saw him i learned he was gay,
no problem,
   went to a soho nightclub with climb,
ended up kissing a brazillian
trying to imitate blinking along to
a strobe light effect...
                   oh ****, kissing a man is
pleasurable, don't get me wrong...
               a few days later my gay cousin invites
me to his birthday party,
  so i go,
     prior to though, a bunch of kids attach
themselves to me, begging me to
buy them a pack of cigarettes...
             sure...
                      so this elder girl gives me the
money and tells me which brand...
       i count my spare change...
and i buy them the more expensive brand...
blues camel 10 pack...
        i walk out...
  give it to her... she's all confused:
so i tell her...
                    trust me,
if you want to smoke cigarettes...
you'll be better off with these than
the brand you asked for...
                      i finally manage to get
to the party, and the brazillian smooch
is there...
          i give my cousin a present i just
bought on oxford st.,
  some book about leaving
cigarette butts and lost ashtrays....
      and this girl approaches me,
and asks me the most intimidating question
concerning homosexuality...
            nausea hits me like a fiddling
thumb in a belly-button or a sky-dive...
do, do i mind what?
        i don't mind homosexuality?
     wait, wait...
       you don't mind the kiss of Judas?
i have the brazillian smooch over there
and now i'm talking whether...
     who said anything about performing ****
*** as the aversion to circumcision?!
           sorry... but the reality became:
i had to excuse myself very quickly...
this isn't a party, this is an interrogation...
i had to fake feeling ill to my cousin...
       London... **** yeah...
and a bunch of village people living
in it...
                 i can do homosexual kissing,
but i'm not exactly willing to be
judged on the fact that there was no ****
involved...
                  might as well ask about
the judeo practice...
    after all... a **** pouch will not
        exactly constrict to an **** canal
that: would probably leave you
              circumcised...
                             buying cigarettes to
those under-legal-requirement-age
children was more fun than this party...
     why even bother attending
a party with lots of homosexuals
when the opening-line you strike up with
a heterosexual makes the man
  bail:           imitating celtic river dancing?
then again, it might have been me...
seeing my brazillian smooch from
several days ago sitting among
        tooth fairies and rent daddies...
which... well: not exactly shoo'ga(h)...
                 hell...
                    turns out i'm not a bad kisser...
but this girl...
             how the **** do you
strike a comfortable conversation with
a stranger on the get go
   and not allow stomach churning
reactions?
                     i left the party as quickly
as i thought about buying those
under-age kids those ****** cigarettes...
  i wish i could condense it
into a homophobia...
                     more like feminaphobia...
   because how can you stay at a party
that a woman attends
   and demands a dialectical
     assurance with a question:
     you don't mind homosexuals, do you?
huh?!
        the ******* doing at a party
with homosexuals?!
      my cousin is here,
    and he invited this brazillian
         i smooched in a nightclub only a few
days ago!
                hen party happening in
Blackpool or something?!