Sex Humor: Oh Good: More Fodder for Making My Husband (and Neighbor) Cringe

Sex Humor: Oh Good: More Fodder for Making My Husband (and Neighbor) Cringe

Everybody needs a hobby. Calico at least two, if indeed collecting dust bunnies beneath one’s couch can be considered a ‘hobby.’

Calico’s favorite pastime is reading news headlines out loud to her husband every morning, eschewing unimportant things like politics, law and reports of potentially cataclysmic weather in favor of far weightier subjects — like radioactive Japanese pigs, sightings of deities on things like tortillas or slices of bread, UFO’s and the ever-expanding saga of “Florida Man.”

By far, Calico’s favorite type of news headline is anything that makes her husband cringe — or better yet, sends him scurrying out the door to do yardwork, take out the trash, or anything else that might spare him having to hear additional detail of the cringeworthy story du jour.

What has Calico’s husband cringing and scampering this week? Should Walmart employees try to seek peaceful resolution of situations involving wildlife before jumping on a deer’s back? Wouldn’t it be easier to smuggle drugs in a brownie than a Rice Krispie treat?

Read all about it, whatever “it” is, in Calico’s latest post: “Oh Good: More Fodder for Making My Husband (and Neighbor) Cringe” 

– Calico Rudasill, Porn For Women

cringe sex news

Read on…

Over the last 20 years, one of my favorite ways to start the day has been reading the morning’s headlines out loud to my husband, while he putters around doing important, manly work – like making coffee, watering the plants, feeding the cats and washing the dishes leftover from my midnight snack the night before.

Typically, I don’t bother with hard news headlines or the top stories being covered by major news outlets, because I figure he’ll get more than his fill of those over the course of the day. Instead, I launch him into the day with tidbits that are unusual in some way.

“Honey, just so you know, ‘Cocky and aggressive’ radioactive pigs have set up camp in the Fukushima nuclear exclusion zone,” I might say. 

Typically, unless he’s still too drowsy to respond with anything more than a grunt of acknowledgement, he’ll have some sort of comment to offer in response, like “To be fair, if I was a radioactive pig, I’d probably be cocky and aggressive, too – particularly if becoming radioactive caused me to become a pig who gets really big and green when he’s angry. Do they make purple pants for pigs?

When ‘Call and Response’ Becomes ‘Call and Bail’

There’s rarely a shortage of strange news stories to choose from, so each morning around here begins with a sort of call-and-response volley of weird news stories and his remarks in response to them.

Walmart employee tackles deer inside store,” I’ll say. 

“Aren’t Walmart greeters typically less aggressive than that?” comes the response. “Did he even ask whether the deer needed help finding what it was looking for first, or did he just go straight from greeter to bouncer without warning?”

“Prison guard accused of smuggling drugs in Rice Krispies treats,” I continue.

“You know, it’s not that hard to make Cannabis Krispies using pot butter,” he says, knowingly. “Those would likely go undetected – you know, unless another guard were to sample them.”

You get the idea. It’s a fun game, but from my perspective, it’s not really a success unless or until I locate a headline that stops him in his tracks. My husband, it seems, has a hard time coming up with one-liners and cringing in sympathetic pain at the same time – and I sure do enjoy eliciting those moments of stunned silence.

My Secret Weapon: Male Genital Injury News

Man broke his ‘package’ during sex,” I say, admittedly with way more relish than is reasonable in this context. “Here’s what made the fracture more unusual.”

Just as I’d hoped, silence from the kitchen. Did he not hear me, or is he hoping that if he doesn’t respond, I’ll refrain from reading on? If the latter, his hope is surely in vain.

“A vertical penile fracture is what happened to a 40-year-old man in the United Kingdom while he was having sex,” I go on. “And that is why he is now the subject of a case report recently published in the medical journal BMJ Case Reports.”

Finally, a response from the kitchen.

“Hard no,” my husband says. “You can stop now.”

Oh, can I? I think not.

Hot Pursuit Leads to Collateral Damage

“Your penis is not made out of bone regardless of what you may call an erection,” I read on. “A penile fracture instead is a tear of the tunica albuginea…”

A wonderful, heartfelt, agonized sigh is heard – and then, the sound of the side door swinging open. That’s right: Rather than hear this important bit of medical news in its totality, my husband inexplicably has decided it’s time to water the plants out back, or to pull some weeds, or maybe to take the trash down to the street corner two days early. Anything that gets him away from hearing details about broken cocks, evidently. 

But this is why God invented laptops, my dear! You simply can’t get away from me that easily.

Following him out the door, I’m nearly shouting now: “This is the membrane inside your penis that surrounds the corpora cavernosa, long spongy structures that fill with blood when your penis gets excited… Bending your penis while erect can then increase the pressure within these cavernosa, sort of like trying to bend one of those balloon-animal balloon… Once the maximum limits are exceeded, the membrane can tear. The result is a so-called ‘fracture of your penis.’”

It is only at this point that I realize our neighbor Ken is standing just on the other side of the hip-high wall along our property line, watering the plants in his yard. The look on Ken’s face makes clear the fact he has heard every word I’ve said since I emerged with my laptop, yelling into the morning air about fractured dicks.

As much as it pains me to stop paining my husband in this moment, I relent, give Ken an awkward wave and retreat inside to finish my cup of coffee. Making my husband cower in the face of bad-penis-news is one thing, but Ken hasn’t done anything to deserve this – and I’ve always promised myself I’d limit the collateral damage from my morning routine, be that damage to the neighbor, the mail carrier, or the occasional Uber Eats driver toting breakfast burritos. 

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