Article Archive

Acid Tongue - Arse Girl

Author: Grumpy
Monday, 10 March 2008
I am at a doof. It is a sunny morning. The hill is crowded, but pleasantly so. There are smiles and there is exuberant stomping as the speaker stacks charge the air with thumping, pulsing, squelchy psy-trance goodness. The strongest chemical I have had is coffee, so I close my eyes, burrow in and try to find that place in the music... ah yes, there it is, and I am dancing.

Something intrudes on my newly found hit of daytime bliss. Something soft and round.

I open my eyes and the intrusion is a pair of reasonably yummy buttocks. A girl is moving her arse against me in a very obvious way. She turns to face me, clearly wondering what I thought about that hot piece of action. I look at the girl and smile, my smile clearly saying, “Look, thank you. It’s really very flattering and it’s really a very nice bottom and everything, and on another day or under other more intoxicated circumstances I might do something like, you know, gently take you by the hips and rub up against your sensational arse with my totally awesome pants bulge. But right at this particular point in time I really just want to lose myself in this music.”

No sooner am I back in the music than Arse Girl is at it again. She is lap dancing me in a way that will not be ignored. I open my eyes just as she runs both hands through her hair and does a smoldering hair flick, her sultry over-the-shoulder smirk clearly saying, “Good, huh- Want some- Yeah... you want it.”

This time my smile takes a sterner approach: “Look here. Um – yes, very good. Possibly the best arse grinding action I’ve experienced in my lifetime. But right now at this point in time all I really really really want to do is dance by myself to this music. Please-”

Her smoldering smile changes. “You prick. What are we all doing here if it’s not to get horny on the dancefloor- What are you – some kind of deviant-”

My smile twitches and says. “Look I just –“

“Fuck you,” her smile tells me. “You selfish prick.”

And she is gone.

I close my eyes and try to block out the memory of her wiggly bum. I try to find my place inside the music but it just doesn’t work. Try as I might, I really just don’t get why so many of you women have to think with your vaginas.

Grumpy (freelance writer Lee Bemrose ' ); document.write( addy60473 ); document.write( '' ); //-->\n ' ); //--> This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it ' ); //--> )