Saturday, April 12, 2003

The Scope and The Taste 04.12.03

The taste:

Friday. I was at a desk, fighting sleep. By fighting sleep, I mean thinking long and hard about booty. There's something about being in one spot, in one office, with certain people you've been thinking about giving all the angles to. And you have no idea if they know or they notice. Or if they want it too. Or if that matters.

Or are you supposed to sell yourself to them? When is it hopeless? When is the connection made? When do you know to get a little randy with the language and touchy with the affection? When should you take your hand from your sweaty and furrowed brow?

But I thought about the booty brigade, and I looked at the booty itself, glorious and round; and I was like, hells yeah, licked my lips, thought about Eddie Murphy's hit compared to Bruce Willis' late 80's foray into music, and went back to work.

And no matter what happens, no matter where we wake up, or how we go to bed, no matter if Pixel tells her boyfriend Larry that she's going out, I know the booty brigade is foremost a movement about movement. We still need rules (less important) and a catchphrase (you know you want something to shout in NYC bars).

We need rhetoric and method for remaining far from maudlin about our pipe laying prospects. See, that's why I am in the booty brigade. Too much g-m thinking.

The scope:

I know the rules of the booty brigade. We make the rules and we break the rules. Forget the rules. Like Danny Glover, we're too old for this shit. The booty brigade is about a flow of people. The booty brigade is a movement. The booty brigade is about saying our piece. The booty brigade is about the fact that Jerry Rice/ Paul Pierce/ Eric Wynalda join Kobe Bryant in asking us not to have a flat game.

To answer the questions-- Marla, you live with Haylz. You can get secondhand booty. I know what goes on in that apartment. I can hear the sounds from Queens. With my special Powerpuff brand satellite audio equipment. I mean, come on. Just warm it in the microwave.

We can start new chapters of the booty brigade in other cities, of course. I don't want to hold people back from getting the sweet touch of love-- I'm not your chastity belt. But we'll need stories, pictures, along with creative ideas for activities. A loose organization, relating informal stories, spreading the word, introducing folks to folks, while reporting to central governing body. This can happen. Yes, we will welcome visitors to the booty brigade.

We will keep our heads up and realize that booty is not the be all and end all, even of the booty brigade. But damn, it is time to openly talk about how we would rather be naked. Say it. Say it. Say it.

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