Sing that in the car on the way to grandma's. I feel so dirty. This poetry I've been quoting is the kind of rude stuff that the far right uses to justify censorship. It isn't wit or humor; it's the verbal equivalent of going into a freshly remodeled kitchen and crapping in the sink, an easily insulting thing to do that takes no skill.
This is just punks and boneheads taking something innocent and wonderful and replacing it with something profane. So I'm going to try something right now, right here.
I'm going to try for Twelve Days of Christmas that are sexy but not horrible. And you're going to witness my whole creative process, so you might want to wear safety goggles. Okay, here we go: On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me I like that line, but to make this work we're going to have to imagine that I'm an attractive woman, and that's going to take some work because I'm not really either one of those things: Attractive, or a woman.
I'm a middle-aged guy with hair in places where I didn't used to have hair and, come to think of it, no hair in places where I used to have lots of hair. Which works well with "Brazilian wax," right? You know about Brazilian waxes , I assume. I think that's a good place to start. Get rid of all that mess down there. On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me I think this can work. I'm thinking from a woman's point of view and I'm going to see if I can develop this as a kind of story.
Maybe build up to On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me I'm going to build to a climax. I mean, not literally. On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me Notice the clever use of "fore" rather than the number "four. That's a handy precedent to set. I think it's going to be valuable when I start running out of ideas. You want to do that kind of thing as your write: Leave yourself some escape hatches in case the format becomes restrictive.
That's money in the bank. On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me And I looked good. Foreplay to burn, three solid spanks, two thigh highs, and a really, really smooth Brazilian wax. On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me You guys get the drops-of-wax thing , right? It doesn't have anything to do with getting a Brazilian wax.
Is it getting hot in here? On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me I ask because I'm getting kind of warm. On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me I'm running out of numbered things. Remember I left myself some leeway back at number "fore"? Of course you do. Also, to tell you the truth, I'm uncomfortable role-playing hot sex from a submissive woman's point of view for this long. Or, to be more precise, I'm uncomfortable feeling the way I do about role-playing hot sex from a sumissive woman's point of view.
Which is to say: I like the idea of chocolate on my nipples, and that worries me. I wonder if we have any chocolate in the pantry. My wife makes cookies sometimes On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me I was concentrating on my own feelings, not on Master's.
I was bad and I deserved that. On the tenth day of Chritsmas my true love gave to me Master is so good to me. Those ten soothing seconds seemed like forever in my Master's strong arms. And then, when I really knew I was loved, he On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me Oh, we're getting close On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me A holiday to remember, that's for sure. Just give me a minute here.
What was my subject again? My scorn for how easy and common it is to put smutty words to Christmas poetry and song. And how much I disapprove of that. The only thing worse: Doing it under the guise of criticism. Pretending you're writing disapprovingly about something, but really you're just doing that as an excuse to do exactly what you pretend to scorn.
I hate that more than anything. That's it for Sex Day this week. Sex Day is all about Christmas from here until My bet is that I'll run out of material. Romance 'Neath the Tree. Have a great weekend. I'll be wracked with guilt after enjoying being a woman for a while.
I deserve whatever punishment I get, so maybe I'll go to a mall. Nothing worse than that, this time of year. I'll be the guy in five inch spikes.