PROSTATIA:
You girls know what to expect now, right? Wiping,
drying, washing, cleansing, moisturizing, and then starting all
over from scratch in time for the next scene, without even enough
time for a quick toot. Well, you might be surprised.
[Another naked man strides in and hands her
a small towel. Prostatia draws it across her face once; she is once
again immaculate. The second man also begins stroking himself. More
men enter the room.]
PROSTATIA:
See? Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
can handle anything! When you do as many sex scenes as I do
every day, you need makeup that can bounce back when you
do.
[She spins around to take another faceful.
The towel makes short work of this as well. There are now six men
around the bed, with more coming in.]
PROSTATIA:
Whee! And Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
can do a lot more than this! Mud, cole slaw, body paint,
urine, whatever you need to get off your face right away,
Spraybellite's…
glub…
!
[She is interrupted by another shot in the
face. The other men are starting to jockey for position. Prostatia
grabs for the towel but it's a bit damp, so she makes do with the
coverlet.]
PROSTATIA:
Cough! Um, Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
is there to help protect your delicate skin from anything they
can offer. Just… blub gurk
…
[We can no longer see Prostatia behind the
wall of men standing around her, but we can see their arms moving
furiously and we can hear her over the music.]
PROSTATIA:
(shouting)
Just look… ack…
look at this testimonials! Whoop!
[CUT TO: a beautiful Asian woman walking
out of a massage room, carrying her robe. She is covered in spunk,
but smiling a dazzling smile.]
HOOTCHIE:
I'm Hootchie Mintrale. I just love Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
. With the time I save not having to reapply makeup between
spoogings, I've doubled my income!
[A quick swipe with a convenient dress
shirt and she's sparkling new. A potbellied man enters; she waves
him into the massage room and turns to us with a wink before
following.]
PROSTATIA:
(voiceover)
And
Bukkake
TM
isn't… gulp, gulp
…
just for professionals!
[CUT TO: A seedy biker bar. A ring of large
burly bikers, all facing inward with their pants down, breaks up.
As they move away we see a young girl kneeling on the floor. She
appears to have taken a cream pie in the face. And the chest, and
shoulders. And hair.]
JIM:
(from offscreen)
Honey? You ready to
go yet?
[Rather than panicking, the girl runs to
the bar and swipes her face with a bar towel. Instantly she's fresh
and wholesome, just in time for a Richie Cunningham-type of guy to
come in the bar. He is clean-cut and wearing a letter sweater. He
embraces her.]
JIM:
Hey, you look great. Ready to go to my parent's house for
dinner?
[She nods happily. He hugs her again and
gives her a big kiss on the cheek, then starts to pull her by the
hand out the door. The bikers wave.]
JIM:
Say, is that a new perfume? It's very musky.
[She stops on the way out the door and
gives us a sly smile and a thumbs-up.]
{CUT TO: PROSTATIA. She is alone on the
bed, submerged in a soupy puddle. Perhaps 15% of her skin is
visible; the rest is covered in goo. Another naked man comes in
carrying a garden hose and begins to hose her down.]
PROSTATIA:
Cough, cough, ptui! Whew! I could never have
gotten the “Most Prolific Slut” award without Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
! Splut! Spraybellite's Bukkake
TM
line of cosmetics includes
everything you could ever want: foundation, blush, mascara, eye
shadow, lipsticks, the whole works, and in all your favorite
colors! Made with Spraybellite's patented mix of the finest makeup
ingredients and urethane. Try it and see! If it doesn't wipe off
with a damp cloth every time, we'll give you some more of it!
That's the Bukkake
TM
Challenge!
[The hose is turned off. Prostatia is once
again perfect. She stands and walks away from the bed as two men
come in wearing thick rubber gloves and begin rolling up the
bedcovers. They squish. We follow Prostatia to a small table, which
is displaying some small bottles and a wire brush.]
PROSTATIA:
And if you order now, you'll get a year's supply
of Spraybellite's Bukkake
TM
Primer, Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
Remover, and this lovely cleansing brush.
DIRECTOR:
(offscreen)
Prostatia! I
need you on the rock star dressing room set in 5
minutes!
PROSTATIA:
(smiling)
No
problem!
(whispers to us)
Not with Spraybellite's
Bukkake
TM
! Remember, when you want your face to look as good as it can,
you want Bukkake
TM
.
-------------------------
Stop Saying
“Sucks”
Friends and neighbors, I am here to tell you
of a social evil so chilling, so widespread, that most people don't
even realize the dangers involved.
I am speaking of the term “sucks.”
Now I want to stress that I
have no problem at all with that word being used correctly, to
mean
to draw something in by or as if by
suction
, as in “she sucks harder than the
bilge pump on the Titanic.” This is fine and good, and I approve of
this usage whole-heartedly, especially if I can verify its accuracy
from personal experience.
But more and more of late I
have heard the word “sucks” used as a term of disparagement, to
imply that something is of inferior quality (“this
administration
sucks
!”) or to be repellent (“rap
sucks
!”) or to express contempt
(“recapitulationary theories suck!”). Since the early 1900's such
phrases as “sucks to them” have been popular, a forerunner of the
current “sucks to be you.” Painful events were considered “sucky,”
possibly because they caused one to suck in one's cheeks. And
finally, today, it has become so widespread that the word “sucks”
can be used on children's programming (“Bert, you
suck
!”).
It has even developed degrees of badness.
Witness the many variations and conjugations that have sprung
up:
suckadelic
Something that sucks. Example: “That undescended
testicle is so suckadelic!”
suckage
To express extreme displeasure at the situation at hand.
Example: “Oh, total suckage! You were
that
close to making it to the
bathroom!”
suckalicious
It sucks to an alarming degree. Example: “Bummer,
man, that tapeworm is suckalicious.”
suckfarm
To suck in a major way. Example: “Suckfarm! It bit
my other leg off!”
suckfest
Something that sucks deliberately and for an
extended period of time. Example: “The Protestant Reformation was
one long suckfest.”
suckitude
A measurement of how much something sucks.
Example: “The suckitude of that malignant tumor is beyond
belief!”
sucktacular
Something that sucks so much that all other forms
of “suck” are insufficient. Example: “That televangelist
ventriloquist is seriously sucktacular!”
Note that there are no minor degrees of
“suck.” Either something that sucks is really bad, or it's much
worse. Now, ordinarily this sort of thing wouldn’t bother me.
Language changes, English more than most, and I am a firm believer
that a language that does not grow with its users will die. But
this change bothers me, a lot.
See, I've always considered
“sucks” to be a
good
thing. A lover who sucks is a lover to treasure. If I describe
my wife as “suckalicious” or “suckadelic” I am offering the highest
of praises. And I sincerely hope that at least once in my lifetime
I will be privileged enough to attend a “suckfest.”
Why are we allowing that most hallowed and
desirable of sensations to be used as a derogatory term? Do you
want the lovers you meet to already have the subconscious certainty
that “suck” equals “yuck?” It's enough work just convincing them
that sucking is good in the first place, without making it tougher
for everybody. I can tell you that if my own wife ever develops the
notion that “sucks” is solely a bad thing, I'm going to come out
there and beat the crap out of each and every one of you. I'll
certainly have enough nervous energy for it.
Let's restore “sucks” to the noble height it
deserves. Avoid using it in such a cavalier, dismissive manner.
Don't let your kids use it, refuse to allow coworkers to use it in
your presence, ban it from your partner's vocabulary unless it's
meant as a kind offer or urgent demand. Spread the word, Stop
Saying “Sucks”!
Hell, why not take it the
other direction? Start using “sucks” to describe something
unutterably good.
“That hot fudge sundae
really sucks, Emily!” he said happily.
Turn
it into what it deserves to be, the highest accolade you can give.
You'd want to find the lover that sucks the most, wouldn't you? Why
not extend that attitude towards everything else? The suckiest
singles of 2002. The most sucktacular job you've ever had. The
Academy Award for the Most Suckitude by a Supporting Actor. Tell
someone you love that you think they really suck, and make them
feel proud of it. Take a stand now, while there's still time, and
make a difference that can result in deep satisfaction for all of
us. Spread the word! Tell your friends! Go door to door, it's
legal! Set up a stand outside the local grocery store and hand out
pamphlets. We have to save this wonderful word from falling,
irrevocably, into despair.
Because to let it go would make a sadder
world for us all. And that would really suck.
-------------------------
Boutique
Encounter, or Why I Hate Writing in Second Person
You see him for the first time by the skirt
racks in St. Laurens, the last place you ever expected to meet a
man. Trendy, elegant, expensive women, sure, but the only men
you've seen there are the nervous boyfriends and husbands who
follow their womenfolk between the racks like oversized children,
asking every few minutes if their ladies could for god's sake
finish trying on every damn thing and pick something so we can
leave, now, please. Those men you've seen plenty of times, and you
always get a little thrill out of watching them squirm in this
hallowed feminine environment. Jolene, the sales manager, makes a
point of leaving exactly one small, uncomfortable, backless chair
by the changing rooms to give them somewhere to sit, surrounded by
billowing, lacy pink curtains and verdant ferns, with not a speck
of masculinity in sight. Few of them manage to last the smallest
part of a good shopping run; 45 minutes of watching their women try
on every color of the same brand of top seems to be the most any of
them can take before they bolt for the nearest bookstore, CD shop
or electronics outlet, mumbling about meeting up in the food court
later. And you thought guys were supposed to be tough.
But not this man. He's strolling between the
racks, idly letting his hand drift across the fabric like he really
enjoys it. You pick up the blouse you were looking at and hold it
against yourself before the mirror, using the reflection to scope
the guy out without being caught. The clearance racks don't attract
him in the least, he heads straight for the silk dress display and
looks at the labels. So, now you know. Gay. Damn shame, too, he's a
mouthful. Tall, broad, dark, strong. You let yourself fantasize
about him and his hands for just a moment, safe in his homosexual
reality, and you feel your knees go weak at the thought of those
strong arms holding you motionless… And then he looks
your way, and your eyes meet in the mirror, and you know in the pit
of your stomach that not only is he definitely not gay but in
that one glance he has already taken you for his own and now it's
just a matter of time before he claims you. And you both know that
you want it.
Suddenly nervous, you hold the blouse
closer, realizing as you do so that your nipples are tight, tight,
and they're poking out even through the additional layer. His eyes
smile at you, and then they drift downwards to set the tips of your
breasts afire with their touch.