Remember back when I first posted Mohammed Dressup like almost a year ago and no one, and I mean NO ONE cared? Well now someone freakin’ cares! Enough to telephone his brothers in Islam and tell them to come hunt me down and slice off my crazy monkey head! And thus begins the much anticipated –
Crazy Islamic Fundamentalist Terrorist Death Threats
|
This week’s hate mail is dedicated to the peepers and peeper defenders, and accusers who seem to just hate me! Never fear. There’ll be more Christian hate mail on the next pages, but for now a refreshing dose of Peeper hate mail!
So it finally happened! The unbelievable has come true, and I didn’t waste the opportunity to say what had to be said. On Sunday the 6th of July the same peeper who approached me a week earlier sat down, shook my hand and started a conversation with yours truly!
“No, but you see, this is what I do! I take pictures of peepers, which is what you are. Aren’t you? You like to stand and stare up girls’ skirts at their panties, right?”
The Bravest Peeper sat down next to me on the steps with his squinty, fake-confidence smile and attempted to come off as a someone not to reckon with, but willing to reason this thing out with me. Let me say that I was so excited when he sat down! And I let him start the discussion, which he did.
“I.. want you to… no post my picture on the internets…”
Now mind you, when he spoke it was quiet, always with that nervous smile, exactly like a weakling pretending to be a threat.
“I want you to not take my pictures no more… to not post me… and what I do…. and you don’t post… ok?”
My enthusiastic response was, “No, but you see, this is what I do! I take pictures of peepers, which is what you are. Aren’t you? You like to stand and stare up girls’ skirts at their panties, right?”
It was so obvious that he was completely overwhelmed by my willingness to take part in an extensive discussion on the topic. I’m sure more than 50% of what I said was completely over his head, but he definitely knew where I was coming from.
“The girls…. they like to be…” and he’d motion at his own crotch insinuating that what they did was on purpose. “They like it. heh heh”
There were two girls sitting on the other side of me listening in , and I was making it easy for them to do so by speaking loudly to him and using complete sentences that included his own words and point of view.
“So you think girls like being peeped? Like even when they’re pushing their skirt between their legs and then getting up and leaving the park? You think the girls are turned on by your creep stare?” And the girls next to me shouted “Oh no we don’t!”
One of his general responses was a simple shrug of the shoulders and half smile.
Another interesting thing that happened is one of the baby scenesters saw what was going on and ran over and brought two girl baby scenesters over to witness what was happening. They sat down too, and pretty soon there was a tiny audience there watching this priceless exchange.
Bravest Peeper also suggested to me as he did in our previous exchange that “maybe… you enjoy taking pictures of boys at the park” motioning his arm around and giggling a little like he had me, and the accusation was his trump card.
“maybe… you enjoy taking pictures of boys at the park”
“Haha! So you think someone’s gotta be gay if they’re not spending all their free time at the park staring up skirts for 20, 30, 40 minutes at a time?”
He shrugged with that smile again.
“Oh, I have a question! Had you ever thought that maybe guys who don’t rape girls against their will might also be homosexuals?” I looked around the park suspiciously at all the closeted gays.
He shrugged with a smile again, and the girls next to me were riveted.
He also said to me “iss my problem if I get caught, or if police catch me… thas my pro-blem.. not yourss.. not yourss business…”
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll get arrested. It’s not against the law what you’re doing!” I stated all this quite loudly. “What you’re doing, peeping up girls’ skirts at the park, isn’t illegal. What you’re doing is just deviant behavior, and it’s societles responsibility to manage you people. And that’s where I come in!”
I knew he was barely following anything I was saying, but he definitely understood that I was gonna be a complete jackass about this situation, and his hopes and dreams of free peeping were slowly being pulled out from under him.
He held out his had to stop me and said again “I wants you to stop taking my pictures… thas all. Just stop…Okays?”
I sat there and seriously tried to picture me stopping. I replied “I have to be honest. I do not see me stopping taking pictures of you peepers in the park at all. In fact, I think the only hope you have of getting me to stop is coming up to me one of these days, putting up your fists” I gave him a visual of what I was speaking of by putting up my fists much like those old vintage boxers posed with their arms at right angles putting up their dukes, “and saying to me ‘You’re still putting my pictures on the internets, now I’m gonna fight you.’ and fighting me to see he wins, and then seeing what happens from there. I think that’s your only hope to keep me from what I’m doing here with you peepers. You know?”
Then I started calling over people who were strolling by and poling them on whether or not they thought girls like being peeped, while pointing out that he was a peeper and thought it was something girls get off .. a while of my smart-alekness and gathering a crowd around to partake in the discussion he finally just got up, said “goodbye” and walked quickly away.
Twice since then when I’ve come to Union Square he’s turned and left the park immediately.
And that’s how it went down.
Fun huh??)
So it finally happened! The unbelievable has come true, and I didn’t waste the opportunity to say what had to be said. On Sunday the 6th of July the same peeper who approached me a week earlier sat down, shook my hand and started a conversation with yours truly!
“I.. want you to… no post my picture on the internets…”
The Bravest Peeper sat down next to me on the steps with his squinty, fake-confidence smile and attempted to come off as a someone not to reckon with, but willing to reason this thing out with me. Let me say that I was so excited when he sat down! And I let him start the discussion, which he did.
“I.. want you to… no post my picture on the internets…”
Now mind you, when he spoke it was quiet, always with that nervous smile, exactly like a weakling pretending to be a threat.
“I want you to not take my pictures no more… to not post me… and what I do…. and you don’t post… ok?”
My enthusiastic response was, “No, but you see, this is what I do! I take pictures of peepers, which is what you are. Aren’t you? You like to stand and stare up girls’ skirts at their panties, right?”
It was so obvious that he was completely overwhelmed by my willingness to take part in an extensive discussion on the topic. I’m sure more than 50% of what I said was completely over his head, but he definitely knew where I was coming from.
“The girls…. they like to be…” and he’d motion at his own crotch insinuating that what they did was on purpose. “They like it. heh heh”
There were two girls sitting on the other side of me listening in , and I was making it easy for them to do so by speaking loudly to him and using complete sentences that included his own words and point of view.
“So you think girls like being peeped? Like even when they’re pushing their skirt between their legs and then getting up and leaving the park? You think the girls are turned on by your creep stare?” And the girls next to me shouted “Oh no we don’t!”
One of his general responses was a simple shrug of the shoulders and half smile.
Another interesting thing that happened is one of the baby scenesters saw what was going on and ran over and brought two girl baby scenesters over to witness what was happening. They sat down too, and pretty soon there was a tiny audience there watching this priceless exchange.
Bravest Peeper also suggested to me as he did in our previous exchange that “maybe… you enjoy taking pictures of boys at the park” motioning his arm around and giggling a little like he had me, and the accusation was his trump card.
“Haha! So you think someone’s gotta be gay if they’re not spending all their free time at the park staring up skirts for 20, 30, 40 minutes at a time?”
He shrugged with that smile again.
“Oh, I have a question! Had you ever thought that maybe guys who don’t rape girls against their will might also be homosexuals?” I looked around the park suspiciously at all the closeted gays.
He shrugged with a smile again, and the girls next to me were riveted.
He also said to me “iss my problem if I get caught, or if police catch me… thas my pro-blem.. not yourss.. not yourss business…”
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll get arrested. It’s not against the law what you’re doing!” I stated all this quite loudly. “What you’re doing, peeping up girls’ skirts at the park, isn’t illegal. What you’re doing is just deviant behavior, and it’s societles responsibility to manage you people. And that’s where I come in!”
I knew he was barely following anything I was saying, but he definitely understood that I was gonna be a complete jackass about this situation, and his hopes and dreams of free peeping were slowly being pulled out from under him.
He held out his had to stop me and said again “I wants you to stop taking my pictures… thas all. Just stop…Okays?”
I sat there and seriously tried to picture me stopping. I replied “I have to be honest. I do not see me stopping taking pictures of you peepers in the park at all. In fact, I think the only hope you have of getting me to stop is coming up to me one of these days, putting up your fists” I gave him a visual of what I was speaking of by putting up my fists much like those old vintage boxers posed with their arms at right angles putting up their dukes, “and saying to me ‘You’re still putting my pictures on the internets, now I’m gonna fight you.’ and fighting me to see he wins, and then seeing what happens from there. I think that’s your only hope to keep me from what I’m doing here with you peepers. You know?”
Then I started calling over people who were strolling by and poling them on whether or not they thought girls like being peeped, while pointing out that he was a peeper and thought it was something girls get off .. a while of my smart-alekness and gathering a crowd around to partake in the discussion he finally just got up, said “goodbye” and walked quickly away.
Twice since then when I’ve come to Union Square he’s turned and left the park immediately.
And that’s how it went down.
Fun huh??
So yesterday I had the most delightful day out with my girlie. First we went to the Mermaid Parade at Coney Island and hung out with our friend Colyn at the ocean in the sun and shade. Then after a ride through the haunted house, a walk past the freak show, some horrible pizza and all the island’s oddities Bobby (yes, that’s her name) and I took the train back to midtown and got some decent pizza and hung at Union Square, and what a fuckin’ day it was at the Square yesterday!
There were Peepers, and Gravers and baby scenesters, and the Garbage King, and Ram and everyone who comes to the park to entertain me and my darling.
But by far the highlight of the visit for me was when one of the Gravers whom I am quite familiar with from over the past 6 years finally, after many threats and promises to Skater Bob, got the nerve to confront me about his photograph on my site (Amazing Strangers pg 62 “The Evil Twin of Spring Love.”)
Ever since I first found out this particular Graver has been going up to Skater Bob and telling him he doesn’t know if he wants to shake my hand or punch me in the face and he’s got 15 guys who are after me, I have been referring to him as the Orangutan, because he looks like a fucking Orangutan! And the Orangutan has a long history of making a spectacle of himself around town.
Anyhow, the long overdue meeting happened yesterday evening and it was priceless. He started off saying “hey Bob, you don’t know me, but I’m on your site and I wanted to tell you a couple things,” or something to that effect. (if anyone who was there cares to remind me how this all went down your recollections are welcome, ie Bobby, Richie Rich, Trash & Vaudeville graver, Orangutan, whoever).
I said hello to him and asked him his name to which he replied, “I don’t want you to know my name,” then he said to me “you have a couple pictures of me on your site and I am going to ask you to remove them. I’m in a band and I can’t have pictures like that out there.”
To which I replied, “First of all, if you’re gonna come to Union Square and make a spectacle of yourself you better expect to be made a spectacle of.”
Then he said, “I have a question for you. Do you even know where the word Graver comes from?!”
Jesus Christ! Do I know where the word Graver comes from??
“Yes I do. It’s a goth raver.”
“Okay, so maybe you know that…”
“I know all about you guys, from back when you were the Order of the Dragon gang at the Cube…”
“Yeah, I know. You’ve been around since The Cube. We weren’t a gang. It was a group of us that…”
“But I read what was written on that electrical box and you were a gang! Okay, you were a club.”
“We weren’t a gang, or a club, it was some of us who…”
“You sounded like a gang to me picking a fight with the ravers. I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll believe that electrical box before I believe you! And now you’re all in the Union Square FightClub! I read it in the paper!”
“We’re not fight club! We never called ourselves that!”
“But I saw it right there in the papers! UNION SQUARE FIGHT CLUB it said!”
“It’s not a fight club!”
“Yeah, I know. And the Order of the Dragon isn’t a gang and you’re not a graver and fight club isn’t fight club.”
So that went on for a bit, me trying to confuse the matter and such. He preceded to tell me how he’d talked to Skater Bob about he didn’t know whether to… “Yeah yeah, I know. ‘Shake my hand or punch me in the face.’ Bob’s kept me up-to-date with all the messages you told him to tell me.”
My gf, Bobby, started to get a little riled by his empty threat to maybe one day punch me and pretty much was ready to kick his ass herself. Then he told me to remove his pictures off the site again, and that’s when I felt the need to lecture him.
“Listen. You cannot expect to come out to the park like this and make a spectacle of yourself with your Fightclubbing and Order of the Dragon gangs, and not have a sense of humor enough about yourself to get your balls busted. “
“I do have a sense of humor about myself but…”
“Not if you’re telling me to take down a picture I took of you.”
“Well, I also need to have it taken down because I’m in a band and they reserve the rights to my pictures.”
“And your label might sue me if I keep the picture posted?”
“Suing you would be unnecessary…”
“Oh, c.mon.”
“And just so you know we’re putting a YouTube video about you on the internet to see how you like it!”
“Haha! I love it! I would love if you did that!”
“What do you do anyhow? Sit and take picture at the park all day?”
“You think I wouldn’t adore having you guys go through the trouble of making a video of me? And just so you know I also sell Jesus magnets on the internet,” I said quite cockily.
So finally, after he saw I wasn’t gonna stop with the lectures about him not being able to take a ball busting, he reached out to shake my hand and said, “So I’m gonna do what I said I was gonna do. Shake your hand and say “Fuck You,” and he walked away.
And I said. “You better get a sense of humor about yourself. I’m not gonna ask you to take your ‘fuck you’ back. I don’t care!”
And he was gone.
It was neat.
