Also I’m no longer in breach of the High Court injunction that they had against me, it wasn’t fair the big council had it in for me, Ok I guess pulling my “todger” in front of passers-by in some circles may be taking things a tad too far but I’ve never done it in front of kiddies. I’m not a perv.

It’s funny I recall that a group of cross dressers, men wearing white wigs, sitting on wooden pews like high priests witching out at Salem’s lot and they were able to stop me from coming to my park, besides my canal, eating my crisps, and not letting me sit on my bench that incidentally was donated to the park by my late uncle, I mean it makes one wonder at the sanity and the legality of it all. 

Anyway I’m here now and I love the sensation of the old wooden bench as it touches my skin, I’m not completely naked I’m not wearing a long anorak, not like those pervy inspector Morse type ones, nope it’s an original Calvin Klein a  full length black designer one. I just hope I don’t get any splinters on my derriere!

Luckily for me there was an old used newspaper on the bench and as I uncrumpled it, out drops a syringe and needle, just missing my exposed cold and hairy thigh, what was more amusing was the headline on the newspaper something about Religion and freedom of speech.

Now as a man, I have my needs and I worked in a corporate role I worked under high pressure many an afternoon I would go hungry as I was still undecided about what topping to have on my jacket potato but those days were long gone, As a black man, I found society always seemed to judge me, look down at me, I never experience White Privilege but then I guess not many other peoples go around worried they may be captured and sold in a slave market. However, I found pulling my todger helped to release some stress and from once a week to once a day it’s now at a stable 3x daily which my psychiatrist says is quite normal.

I did go to a maximum of 5x a day and then thought why not become a Muslim, that lot pray 5x a day, I thought I could add one on after each prayer in  the mosque ablution section, but then I was told I needed to have a bath 5x a day, that was too much even for me, so I’m now at a stable 3x I wish I knew this when I was younger I could have read my goals 3x daily after pulling myself.. anyway I digress.

I’m waiting ….  I’m wondering…I’m pondering…

The woman who got me in trouble was an older white woman, mature if you will, nothing actually special in fact just thinking about the whole ordeal or in my case raw-deal, makes me feel like I did a dis-service to fellow “streakers” in fact she wasn’t all that, very old, shrivelled up carcass of a woman, her body barely held together by her tight joggers and boob tube of a top, she was the type who ran to extremes as if she was running away from a stroke, I definitely wasn’t! The fact that she had painted her eyebrows a bit too high onto her forehead made it very difficult to work out whether she was genuinely surprised or simply looked surprised, she even looked surprised coming to court giving her made up evidence against me.

On that day with my chance encounter with Melanie, ( I heard her name in court) I thought I’d make some stranger smile by sticking a pirate wheel, the ones you see in movies when sailors steer their galleon ships with. I stuck a big pic of a wheel on my todger and even wore a pirates hat and an eye patch so when Melanie ran past I opened my anorak shouting “Arrr!” as a pirate would and she looked surprised…

She was supposed to have asked “What was that?”

But she didn’t, she looked surprised and I was supposed to have said in my best pirate’s accent.

“I use it to steer my nuts Arr! Arr! Arr!”

Alas none of that happened she just looked surprised.

What surprises me is that I’ve been flashing on and off showing my wares and never asking for a penny or a dime in return for a few years now and to this day I only get the one hapless subject and that’s…white women, I’m not racist in fact I’d gladly show my todger to anyone who cares to look and stare but for some reason only white women go jogging alone in a deserted park. Let me repeat that, only white women go jogging alone in a deserted park along a lonely path that leads to a desolate canal.

I’ve been told that running helps to clear one’s head and I guess it must be true for these white, snow whitey, Caucasian women, clearing all rational thoughts such as not running alone, don’t run towards a black man sitting on a bench alone next to a canal vigorously waving his todger at you to come over to him.

I also like the idea that chalky white women are the ones that only run wearing over-head, over-sized headphones with, you guessed it, noise cancellation so that they can’t’ hear me creeping onto them!

I’ve never managed to stop anyone long enough to chat to them but I’m fascinated by what music they must be listening to I’d piss myself if it turned out to be “Staying Alive” by the Beejees

 Another glorious outcome of my park presence is that most colourless white women stroll into the park like they’re auditioning for a yoga mat commercial—slow, dreamy, full of intentions but low on action. But once they clap eyes on me todger, something changes. Suddenly, they’re soon sprinting like the final girl in a low-budget horror movie, knees high, panting heavy, eyes suddenly wild with purpose.

To be honest I simply don’t just help to burn calories —I ignite them.

It turns out I should have been hosting motivational seminars, a chance encounter with me and my 8” Shh-long, lots of shrieking, whooping, yelling, slapping, (if you’re really slow and lucky!)  is like dashing Caribbean hot scotch bonnet sauce on the ass, just a dash, leads to a sprint, an inner primeval ignition switch turns on an internal combustion engine, a blazing fire, profuse sweating, a spike in blood pressure and a better regulation of blood sugar levels and one chance encounter with me. Is all it takes to awaken their inner athlete. You’re welcome, ladies.