I masturbate because I’m a gentleman, by Nixon Dickhouse
I find myself opening doors for the old and feeble. I find myself standing when I should sit. I find myself allowing women with children to go through a door before I do. I find myself allowing others to take my cab even though it’s raining. I find myself lost in service for others. I find myself masturbating because I am a gentleman.
I find myself vexed that I am not giving enough of what others should be receiving. I find myself making my twelve roses a baker’s dozen. I find myself toiling over the color of my scarf as to match the menu of this evening’s eatery. I find myself over-tipping to compensate for me not quite being ready to order when the waiter asked me what I would like to eat. I find myself masturbating because I am a gentleman.
I find myself lost in long lines of poetry, hoping to be found. I find myself crawling through the peakless valleys of polite prescribed love. I find myself caring about others and donating to good causes. I find myself dreaming the impossible dream. I find myself righting the impossible wrong. I find myself masturbating because I am a gentleman.
I find myself minding the mending of old-hat kindred. I find myself buying gifts for girlfriends long-gone and no longer giving. I find myself waving the American flag in the name of what I believe. I find myself politely changing what I believe to more wholly and holistically represent what others believe. I find myself masturbating because I am a gentleman.
I find myself learning to cook. I find myself embracing the sauces, thick and thin, that make meals more memorable. I find myself inviting people over to join me for dinner that I would never really talk with, but I find it the couth thing to do. I find myself waking up from sauce-filled slumbers, dreaming of gravies, grand and streaming. I find myself masturbating because I’m a gentleman.
I find myself going to State Street in Salt Lake City. I find myself going to the Tenderloin in San Francisco. I find myself going under the bridge in Portland. I find myself awarding women to have me all over the world. But I also find myself masturbating because I am a gentleman, and there is no way I am going to pay for sex and let that woman/person get my earliest nut, fast and first. Because deep down, I want my sex-worker to get her nut too. Because deep down I think she deserves it. Because deep down I can’t afford to pay her for two. Because deep down, I find myself masturbating because I am a gentleman.
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I say to you today, my friends, even though we face the difficulties of this day and tomorrow, I am still a gentleman. I am still a gentleman and that part of me is deeply rooted in jerking off and the American Dream.
I am, and will remain, Nixion Dickhouse, Benevolent Dictator for Life, a gentleman.
If you are done pumping out all your gravies, think and thin, try washing your hands before you go serving the rest of us. You dream of baby gravy more than a Thailand she-male.
I heard Angels trumpeting down from the heavens while I read that. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang to the verses that didn’t have to do with coitus which was found absent of the quest to populate the earth. Thomas “The Bull” Monson even told me he had a personal revelation while he read it. he hasn’t told me what it was, but I’m sure he will when he comes back from changing his pants.