March 29, 2009
The Chronicles of Testaclese: Weekly Installment Plus Bonus Track

Posted at 8:56 pm, in: The Chronicles of Testaclese, Uncategorized
Tags: Chapter Three, Chapter Two, Hair

It’s Sunday night, so you know what that means: time for your weekly installment of The Chronicles of Testaclese. I had promised a chapter a week. Unfortunately, the next “chapter” is only about one paragraph. In light of this, I’m printing two chapters for your reading pleasure. In case you missed it, make sure you read the Introduction and Chapter One.

Chapter Two

          Some of the monologues are close to verbatim interviews, some are composite interviews, and with some I just began with a seed and I made the rest up. Some are completely fictional, with no basis in fact. Other monologues I heard at one time or another and recalled them to the best of my ability, filling in the gaps however I deemed fit. So basically, I can’t even tell you whether this book should be classified as fiction or non-fiction. Good luck figuring it out!

Chapter Three

HAIR

          You cannot love a penis unless you love hair. Many people do not love hair. My first and only wife hated hair. She said it was cluttered and dirty. She made me shave around my penis. It looked puffy and exposed like a little boy. This excited her. When she made love to me, my penis felt the way a beard must feel. It felt good to rub it, and painful. Like scratching a mosquito bite. It felt like it was on fire. There were screaming red bumps. I refused to shave it again. Then my wife had an affair. When we went to marital therapy, she said he screwed around because I wouldn’t please her sexually. I wouldn’t shave around my penis. The therapist had a thick German accent and gasped between sentences to show her empathy. She asked me why I didn’t want to please my wife. I told her I thought it was weird. I felt little when my hair was gone down there, and I couldn’t help talking in a baby voice, and the skin got irritated and even calamine lotion wouldn’t help it. She told me marriage was a compromise. I asked her if shaving around my penis would stop my wife from screwing around. I asked her if she’d had many cases like this before. She said that question diluted the process. I needed to jump in. She was sure it was a good beginning.
          This time when we got home, she got to shave around my penis. It was like a therapy bonus prize. She clipped it a few times, and there was a little blood in the bathtub. She didn’t even notice it, ‘cause she was so happy shaving me. Then, later, when my wife was pressing against me, I could feel her spiky sharpness pressing into me, my naked puffy penis. There was no protection. There was no fluff.
          I realized then that hair is there for a reason—it’s the leaf around the flower, the lawn around the house. You have to love hair in order to love the penis. You can’t pick the parts you want. And besides, my wife never stopped screwing around.

*Please note, for the majority of this “play” I simply replaced the obvious words. If you are not familiar with the “play” The Vagina Monologues, this is pretty accurate. There were parts where liberites had to be taken in order to make The Chronicles of Testaclese comparable but, for the most part, this is the same play.