for a good time
While leading the Duchess of Cookwich on a leash through an urban park today, I popped into a bathroom and proceeded to drain the main vein. As I was voiding my bladder, I espied some NAME THE TIME AND PLACE AND I'LL SUCK THE CHROME OFF YOUR COCK semiotic tile scrawl that no public loo can seem to do without.
I was less than ten years old the first time I encountered such crude crap-room cave paintings. There on the wall, above an unflushed, shredded-cigar-looking turd from the customer before me, and alongside ol' chestnuts such as HERE I SIT, BROKEN-HEARTED/CAME TO SHIT AND ONLY FARTED, was a meekly scribbled "i love the taste of cum." It was surrounded by angry arrows and classically homophobic threats of violence.
But I'll bet more than one of those fag-bashers left the violence at home, showed up on time, and did more than get their dick sucked.
