This is going to strike you as, well, unbelievable, I’m sure, but I’ve got a dirty mind.
What? You suspected?
I have that kind of face, though, the kind of face that makes people think I don’t swear or don’t write and re-write the filthiest of jokes when I hear someone use the words “meat thermometer” or “titular heads of state”.
Look, I know that there’s nothing dirty about the words “meat” or “titular”, but I also know that I am not alone in this, and sometimes, it just seems funny.
See? Even now, I’m grinning on the inside, because if by any stretch of the imagination a word can have a double meaning? I want to be there.
Even The Boy has gotten in on it.
For example, I took him to a political event a number of years ago, when he was 20, maybe 21. There was quite a number of different groups there: Democrats for Tapioca, Republicans for a Safer Mouthwash, Lesbians for Lower Kitchen Counters. It was a diverse group, a big holding-hands, acoustic guitar, I’ve-got-poetry-books-for-sale-in-my-car kinda group. Dylan took one look at the couple next to us, two women holding hands, and quipped, “You didn’t tell me this was going to be a bush rally”.
Ha ha! You’re very funny, and you’re grounded.
Not really. You don’t ground wit.
I don’t feel bad about it, my dirty mind. I enjoy it. I’m not loud, I’m not crude, and in a quiet setting where there are minors or disapproving adults in the mix, you’ll only know what I’m thinking by the inappropriate twinkle in my eye.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to go to. We’re going to discuss this year’s holiday-themed party: Santa’s Pole* – Life at the Top of the World.
* No doubt this will be changed before the party takes place, but not only did I not name it, I seem to be the only one on the committee who finds it amusing.
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