My god. I think we’ve started an epidemic. Melusine and I compiled a list last week of Masturbatory Euphemisms, with the help of a few friends.
We’ve also been planning to have a party in the new year — a themed party — Come As Your Favourite Masturbatory Euphemism.
This idle idea has taken off. People we don’t even know are coming up to us and saying, “I’m coming as a monkey and my wife is going to spank me!”
Another friend asked if he could just show up naked and masturbate for us.
It’s all good.
Went to the Hideout yesterday to hang out with Marcy, Ted, and other friends. Marcy says people have been ringing her up at odd hours and barking through the phone, “I got one! How about, ‘Skimming the Pool’?”
It’s all good.
For the last week and a half, we have all been thinking of the most mundane things in terms of masturbation (“Takin’ the streetcar to Poydras!” Oh yah, baybee!). Yesterday was no exception. The ink flew as people all along the bar shouted out their contributions. I offer for your delictation the Minutes of the Meeting of the Masturbatory Euphemisms. Some are clever. Some are gross. Others are just damnably confusing but oddly à propos.
(Okay, deep breath. Here we go…)
- Harassing the help.
- Brushing the pony.
- Stuccoing the ceiling.
- Spackling the wall.
- Borrowing a cup o’ sugar.
- Moistening the self-adhesive flaps.
- Frothing the baby batter.
- Milking the Euphemism.
- Foaming at the mouth.
- Ordering a second helping of bearded clam.
- Starting the lawnmower.
- Shaking hands with your plus-one.
- Digging for gold.
- Teaching junior to stand up straight.
- Testing the waters.
- Making daddy proud.
- Taking the easy way out.
- Having a generous helping of me.
- Churnin’ butter.
- Climbing the rope in gym class.
- Adding mayo to the hand salad.
- Prying the Shriner into the tiny car.
- Badgering the witness.
- Getting the gold in the one-handed olympics.
- Teaching the dog to sit up and beg.
- Finding out how the other half lives.
- Tinseling the tree.
- Smothering the fussy baby.
- Exorcizing the dæmons.
- Joining Martha in the Hamptons. (????)
- Refingering the concerto.
- Making merengue.
- Icing the cupcake.
- Dressing the turkey.
- Finessing the outcome.
- Climax and Resolution.
- Diciplining the orphan boy.
- Baptising the newborn.
- Avasting me hearty.
- Coaxing the turtle out.
- Rubbing the magic lamp/Conjuring the genie.
- Shootin’ for the stars.
- Playin’ the meat flute.
- Sneaking the puck past the five-fingered goalie.
- Humming with the hairy harmonica.
- Oiling down Jean Benet before the pageant.
- Addressing the masses.
- Tending the flock.
- Weeding in the cucumber patch.
- Bogarting the doob.
- Mowin’ the fuzzy triangle.
- Getting my learner’s permit.
- Performing genetic testing on porceline.
- Embezzling funds.
- Popping the clutch and burning rubber.
- Spelunking in Chocolate Canyon.
- Collecting pollen.
- Skimming off the top.
- Pulling some taffy.
- Knocking angels off the head of a pin.
- Trephining the tree trunk.
- Shining the saddlehorn.
- Looking for middle-C on the left-handed piccolo.
- Masking my contempt.
- Stiffening the upper lip.
- Performing the “Frosting Fountain Trick.”
- Bleaching the sheets.
- Taking candy from the baby.
- Watching junior march in the parade.
- Tossing tadpoles.
- Giving the babysitter a ride home on the Lear jet.
- Converting the bald-headed leftist.
- Sittin’ on the dock of the bay.
- Putting the tray table in the upright and locked position.
- Parking the pink caddie in the velvet garage.
…and on and on.
I don’t see why this should be limited to the French Quarter. Hey, global audience, did we miss any?
Check out the Marquis’ Crush o’ the week! Due to her boss discovering her diary (BUSTED!) she has had to password protect it. Username: Partygirl Password: Bitch (all case sensitive.) Feel sneaky yet?
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