Do you ever find yourself laughing at inappropriate times over things which suggest the ‘humor center’ in your brain hasn’t evolved since you were in middle school? Do you find it difficult to focus on the rest of what someone has to say after they’ve accidentally uttered a sexual innuendo? Calico does — and the same goes for when she’s reading articles about politicians and their extramarital affairs, or perusing the results of a dating survey, especially if any of the responses come out to 69%. Ask your doctor if growing up a little is right for you — or, if you already the answer is no, take solace in having company in your immaturity by reading Calico’s latest post, “More Signs Of My Enduring Immaturity”
by Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com Porn For Women
Going by the dates on a calendar, I’m in my late 40s, but going by the things which make me smirk, snicker or even guffaw out loud, I’d put my mental age at roughly 12.
Sometimes, this fact comes to light in less than ideal circumstances – like the time I was a maid of honor in a good friend’s wedding and got a horrible, intractable case of the giggles after the priest presiding over the ceremony stumbled over his words and referred to the groom-to-be as a “talented penis” instead of a “talented pianist.”
Thankfully, as an increasingly solipsistic homebody, most of my inappropriate laughter goes unnoticed these days, including by my husband, who is too absorbed in important things like binge-watching Netflix superhero shows to be bothered by the insane cackling coming from the other end of the sofa.
What’s In A Name? Sometimes One’s Sexual-Impropriety-Destiny, Evidently
One of the side effects of my ongoing immaturity is the way my brain processes and recalls information I take in. For example, after reading a recent article about the “sex scandal” involving Nashville Mayor Megan Barry, I couldn’t remember any of the salient details of the affair itself, or focus on the one aspect of this I might object to were I resident of Nashville – namely, the possibility Barry may have spent taxpayer money on taking trips overseas with her lover.
Why couldn’t I remember or focus on these things? Because toward the end of the article, as the author was recounting other, similar sex scandals involving politicians in the past, there appears the following lines:
“And a public sex scandal involving a bodyguard 30 years ago previously tarnished the career of a Nashville mayor. Former Nashville Mayor Bill Boner’s high-profile affair made headlines for weeks.”
From this point on, all my brain could process – or perhaps fail to process would be a more accurate way of putting it – is that at some point in the past, Nashville had a mayor named “Bill Boner.”
Try to imagine for a moment growing up with the name Bill Boner: After the years of verbal abuse he most certainly received at the hands of his peers, what else could he do but go into politics and have a career with his bodyguard?
It gets better (or maybe worse?), though; not only did Mr. Boner have an affair with his bodyguard, he later got engaged to a country singer named “Traci Peel.”
At this point, I feel like I need to emphasize that this article ran on the website for the USA Today, not The Onion.
The only way this story could get better is if the former mayor and the country star decided to quit their respective careers and launch a law firm together. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be represented by the firm of “Peel and Boner”? (Or, if you prefer, the equally delightful “Boner & Peel.”)
I’m Reflexively Skeptical Of Any Survey Result Which Comes Out To 69%
I am, of course, a huge fan of surveys, especially ones which purport to give simple, straightforward answers to ridiculously broad areas of inquiry like “How it feels, what it looks like and what it means to be single in 2018.”
Of course, I only enjoy reading the results more when they involve any sex-related response which comes out to a certain figure, because this makes my inner tween titter and goof-out in ways I don’t want to explain to the people around me, listening (or, in my husband’s case, not listening) to me giggle like the overgrown schoolgirl I am.
Again according to USA Today, 40% of the respondents in the Match survey “report casually dating or hanging out with a few people,” while 55% “report having a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, where they can have sex with someone who will keep their tryst private.”
This is easy enough to believe – but I already know it’s going to be hard for my brain to store, because my brain’s primary takeaway from the article will be this:
“But while things may be more casual than before, 69% of singles reported that they’re looking for a serious relationship.”
69%, eh? There’s a nice round (or perhaps oval, or if you both spread your legs, x-shaped) figure!
I probably should have stopped reading there, because the next thing I knew, I was funneled right back to another recent obsession of mine (and of the English press): sex-robots.
“Thirty-one percent of single men said they would have sex with a robot, while only 15% of women said they were open to robo-sex. Nearly half of singles consider sex with a robot as cheating.”
Sorry, I just have to stop now; reading while laughing so hard I might pee myself is one thing, but typing words which make any kind of sense while I have giggle-borne tears in my eyes is simply a boner bridge too far.
Calico’s work has appeared under various pen names in adult industry trade journals and on several mainstream op-ed portals, including the Huffington Post.