Balinese corn roaster

His name is Muhammad Ali, and he sells roasted corn on the cob. Few people ever think to ask him if he is familiar with his boxing American namesake; the topic rarely comes up.

From around lunchtime until well into the evening he tends his coconut-husk fire, baking corn and selling it to anyone with forty cents to spare. Sometimes, he sticks a ratty beach umbrella into a slot on the side of his pushcart so that customers don’t have to stand in the sun while they wait. He always stands in the sun, though. On his cart are tubs of regular as well as spicy cow’s butter with wood-handled paint brushes sticking out of them. People who desire their roasted corn to be spread with spicy butter say this: mintah panas.

During the Muslim holy month of ramadan, Muhammad Ali travels for a fortnight back to the island of Java, where his family lives, meaning that someone else sells corn in his stead. The other fifty weeks out of the year, however, he stands in the parking lot of Batu Bolong beach selling corn and chain-smoking cigarettes. It’s an honest gig, you see, and someone has to do it. In the Balinese language, one of the slang words for penis is kontol. Therefore, when a pretty white girl says she wants one corn, the joke is to ask her if she wants a big kontol, then jump the eyebrows and crank a secret smile when she says yes.

It’s a funny joke that never gets old.

Muhammad Ali is full of funny jokes.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

learnings from naked

This author yesterday went with his Finnish sauna buddies to Gunnison beach in Sandy Hook, New Jersey. While there, he saw many interesting sights and a few beautiful women. One of them, a buxom brunette who spent most of the day sunning herself a few spots down from their vintage tent, had a majestic bust, a thigh-gap, and a fully shaved, delicately-formed whispering eye; she once smiled at whorphan as they had passed each other at the gate, and made eye contact with him again upon his return from visiting the restrooms, but he never approached her, for reasons unknown. Another young lady, this one at the beach with her boyfriend, was a most attractively skinny lady whose perfectly-shaped breasts were at least size DD. Dark of hair, wide of mouth, and sparkling of eye, this skinny maiden at first went swimming with her privates covered but then came back with her crotch revealed, widely set hips showcasing a seductive gap into which one could easily slide an 2-inch-wide, hardback book.

Among the more interesting sights were the various types of penises, some adorned with rings and bands and holders and piercings, others so small and shrunken into the pelvic floor as to resemble little more than nubby, pink traffic cones. In evidence on both sexes present were all types of landscaping, from cleanly shorn to full 80's bush, from landing-strip to pubic tuft, from month-old patch of natty pubes to the broad expanse of waxed and shiny dick-skin. The single men were wont to parade from one end of the naked beach to the​ other, looking hungrily into the eyes of any other man who might glance their way, but for the most pat the homosexuals respected this author's sexual preference and left him in peace.

It has been too long since this author had swam naked. Oh, the speed and ease of it! Much speedier and much easier than trying to swim in a pair of baggy nylon trunks, he was able to shoot through the cooling Atlantic waters in the manner of a newborn seal pup, flashing about in the briny surf with a few strong pulls of his arms, moving a dozen feet or more with each foaming stroke. And then he was back up and out of Poseidon's grasp, a dozen sets of eyes tracking his every move back to the tent, lingering and watchful glances appraising and judging. Would he go back to this place? If given the opportunity to, yes, he would, but next time with a pair of sunglasses and enough courage to approach the wily dames.

mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥