Gay Tel Aviv
by Albert Russo
Bonka stood non-pussied,
like I had given him a knock in the head, and he
started blinking like a bloomin ventriloquist’s
puppet.
When he does that, people
think he’s having an apoplectic fit and
scares the wits of all and sundry around us. Then
I have to holler to straighten him out: “Focus,
Boondak, fer crying out loud, don’t bite
your tongue and stop the shenanigans!”
You should have seen the
two hunks, suddenly turning into lifeguards, to
save my uncle from swooning. An ass-side
here is necessary for those of you who know
nothing about this country.
Like all Israelis who have
done their military service - generally 3 years
for boys, and 2 years for girls -, they go
through a very thorough training. Not only do
they learn to manipulate weapons, but they become
para-medics and have to be ready to take care of
soldiers and civilians wounded in terror attacks.
Also, in the IDF - which stands not for Ile-de-France,
nerd, but for Israeli Defense Forces; it includes
the army, the navy and the air force -, the young
recruits who have an undergraduate degree can
apply for different positions in the army,
earning college degrees while in service. In
other words, they study like at university.
So, these two guardian
angels started rescoopscitating my uncle
the carbuncle, who was performing like a friggin
fried nincompoop, all the while urging him to focooss,
stay focoossed, which with their thick
Hebrew accent sounded like ‘fuck it, fuck it’!
I didn’t know whether to lol or get
angry at Bonka, who, after I gave him a punch in
the solar plexus - I dunno what the sun has to do
with it, but it’s an expreshun - finally focoosed,
and he started drooling like a dog lost in the
desert. Oh siss, siss, as they say in
Afrikaans, to show their disgust!
A good thing they didn’t
have to do the mouth-to-mouth shtick, on account
that my uncle would have dreamt he was being
lifted in a gay paradise. That would be the day.
As it is, Tel Aviv is known as the gay capital of
the Middle East. You should see all these hunks
running along all over the city, half naked, in
shorts or bermudas, with their bulging muscles,
up and downstairs! Too awesome for words. You
also see them holding hands, and even kissing in
broad daylight, like heteros, and nobody says
anything, like it’s the most natural thing
to do. Wa wee, and washmore, you come
across gay or lesbian couples pushing prams with
one or two babies, while accompanied by their
doggy. Jeezette, I now understand why my uncle’s
pupils sometimes seem to pop out of their orbits.
He’s - we’ve never seen scenes like
that anywhere during our travels, and certainly
not in Paris. They would be arrested for indecent
exposure, with the Catholic brigade intervening
in force, and promissing hell and high water.
|
