Wow. What passes for spam nowadays. My boyfriend's member keeps slipping just entered my in-box (that's what she said) a few minutes ago, and I can't imagine what kind of help that young woman is hoping for. (I am not sure why I imagine young or woman, when this message seems so much more...male-driven....) And what is the solution for a slipping member? Thicker condoms? Crazy glue? Shellac?
I have an image of a pretty, almost-adult girl on a summer day (somewhere near 1957, for verisimilitude) strolling -- albeit nervously -- up to the priest after Sunday service.
"Father?"
"Yes, my child." (Always spoken in the form of affirmation, despite the intention of querying.)
"I have a problem."
"Anything, my child. You know you can discuss anything with me."
"Are you sure, father?"
"Most definitely, my child."
"Well, in that case Father, it's about my boyfriend. His member keeps slipping."
Can you imagine the look on Father's face? And would his response be felt (by him, I mean) and delivered in proportion to any guilty pleasure he might feel over the word member? (My prejudice, I know.) (Reminds me of that old joke about the alter boy and the priest whose punch line is something like a bag of chips and a Pepsi.) Do you think then that Father would answer the girl's question, or would he merely issue x number of Hail Marys and be done with it? And how does that solve her dilemma?
Do you think little kids open up their email and find these sorts of messages? Do you think they even ask what it means, or do they already know? Do they wonder why this kind of message is coming up, or are they so used to it that they do what I do and simply delete? I can't imagine asking my mother what a slipping member might mean. Mostly, I would have thought that someone hadn't paid their dues at the church. (Not that I think that that part of my childhood was so ideal, but it had to be better than this.)
And if a child did ask her mother or father what this business of a slipping member meant, what do you think a parent might answer? "Don't read that nonsense, honey. It's just garbage." Or, "Well sweetheart, it's time we had a little talk." And what kind of answers are these? Frankly, give me birds and bees any day. I am all for any happy euphemism that gets me past the graphics. My God, no wonder kids all so cynical and flip. Couldn't they spend their free time eating Oreos and watching cartoons, the way I did?
Speaking of cartoons and sex, the other night Hank Hill found himself in the middle of an office conundrum. Ben Stiller (in animated form, of course) had been hired at the propane company as a replacement for a retiree, but Ben had an irritating and inappropriate way of turning everything into sexual innuendo. (That's what she said, sort of thing.) Hank had an even more terrible time trying to keep the workplace clean, and, without spoiling the ending, I do have to say that I felt angst right along with him and hoped that Ben Stiller would be fired and that the others would come to their senses. I sat on the couch riveted to the television, chomping on Oreos and feeling deep irritation, wondering why everything inappropriate, why all the negativity, had become so kosher, so boringly acceptable.
Mind you, I've just written all of this here in my blog for any child to see, haven't I? And yet...I am not shoving this into anyone's face, like a you-know-what. Still, how hard is it for a youngster (does anyone even say youngster anymore?) to accidentally log onto a blog? I can easily imagine any fourteen-year-old checking out their favourite blend of coffee, for example, and misspelling coffee as coffey...and so on. But then again, once they found me, why would they continue on -- especially when they read that today's entry is for members only?
My boyfriend's back and there's gonna be trouble...
<:^)
