Ribald? Or Obscene?
I give my faithful readers fair warning: this fragment is not quite the Done Thing, especially in an age ruled by blue-nosed, lily-livered, mealy-mouthed Pecksniffs (N.B. A.D. 2006). The lyric below popped into the coconut, so I thought I'd better bung it down. But I give you fair warning.
It came to me without any indication of how to handle the release when I get to it. That's often the way with this stuff. Bit of an idea comes along, and all is smooth sailing for a while; there are times when I feel as if I could repeat the pattern of the first eight bars ad infinitum. And then comes the release. And the hell of it is, when the words to the release finally come, they often bring such a sense of artistic fulfillment (yes, even I feel it sometimes), that I regret that the darned passage occurs only once in the song. And any attempt to write a second chorus forces me to admit that I couldn't really repeat the pattern of the first eight bars ad infinitum. The whole thing becomes a big pain in the neck.
Well, enough of that. The song (or half-song), to the tune of Loewe's With, or is it Wiv, a Little Bit of Luck:
They say that Man's a spiritual creature,
And that he does not live by bread alone;
They say that Man's a spiritual creature,
But--
With a little tit to suck
And a little clit to fuck,
He'll be satisfied with just one bone.
Now, Man has brains and intellect and reason,
To see the truth, instead of flying blind;
Yes, Man has brains and intellect and reason,
But--
With a little tit to suck
And a little clit to fuck,
Every man has got a one-track mind.
Lyric © Nathaniel DesH. Petrikov
Incidentally, anyone who senses a discordant anatomical inaccuracy in this lyric is probably unacquainted with the young lady from Niger, who smiled as she rode on a tiger. (And well she might!) What is sometimes forgotten is that the tiger eventually smiled, too.
It came to me without any indication of how to handle the release when I get to it. That's often the way with this stuff. Bit of an idea comes along, and all is smooth sailing for a while; there are times when I feel as if I could repeat the pattern of the first eight bars ad infinitum. And then comes the release. And the hell of it is, when the words to the release finally come, they often bring such a sense of artistic fulfillment (yes, even I feel it sometimes), that I regret that the darned passage occurs only once in the song. And any attempt to write a second chorus forces me to admit that I couldn't really repeat the pattern of the first eight bars ad infinitum. The whole thing becomes a big pain in the neck.
Well, enough of that. The song (or half-song), to the tune of Loewe's With, or is it Wiv, a Little Bit of Luck:
They say that Man's a spiritual creature,
And that he does not live by bread alone;
They say that Man's a spiritual creature,
But--
With a little tit to suck
And a little clit to fuck,
He'll be satisfied with just one bone.
Now, Man has brains and intellect and reason,
To see the truth, instead of flying blind;
Yes, Man has brains and intellect and reason,
But--
With a little tit to suck
And a little clit to fuck,
Every man has got a one-track mind.
Lyric © Nathaniel DesH. Petrikov
Incidentally, anyone who senses a discordant anatomical inaccuracy in this lyric is probably unacquainted with the young lady from Niger, who smiled as she rode on a tiger. (And well she might!) What is sometimes forgotten is that the tiger eventually smiled, too.
posted by npetrikov at 7:55 PM
3 Comments:
Now granted, I'm gay. Like, not-all-that-acquainted-with-the-vagina gay. But I'm pretty sure one doesn't really fuck a clit. You can feel free to call me out on that, though.
Hmmmm. How graphic should I get here? I wouldn't gross out my faithful readers for worlds (heh, heh).
Some heteros practice a position called "riding the tiger," in which the man is supine, and the woman straddles his loins with her back to him and her pelvis tilted at a convenient angle. She then grasps his erect member (it really doesn't work with a flaccid one) and stimulates her clitoris with it, as if it were an organic dildo (ooh, eco-friendly!). If she has finesse, she not only achieves orgasm herself, but induces it in him.
Now, while it's true that this procedure avoids intromission, it seemed to me that using "fuck" to describe it was not stretching the word too much.
There! That was primly clinical, I think. Except for "fuck," of course.
Wow. I mean -- wow.
I had no idea you heteros were so...
Wow.
I guess in that position she could watch television or something. It would be like the best of both worlds.
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