I sat at Mary’s house the other night. Bowls of home-made chili and slabs of freshly baked bread comfortably downed, we sat in the living room, her dog T-Bone, Black Lab of Incredible Sincerity, at our feet.
“Did Anna friend you?”
Anna was someone from our past, a woman with an insanely cheerful and ambitious sexual history. She told crazy stories, sometimes backed up with the craziest of photos.
“On FaceBook?” I asked. “Yeah, but we don’t talk.”
“You remember the sex swing?”
Well who could forget something like that?
The sex swing figured prominently in Anna’s stories, and Mary and I found ourselves wondering aloud as to why we didn’t own one, why we hadn’t been telling stories about the sex swing.
I could post a picture, of course, but a wink, as they say, is as good as a nod.
It took several off-color jokes and a colored-pencil-and-glued-macaroni diagram (we couldn’t find the glitter), but we've come up with several ideas as to why we have never owned a screwed-into-the-ceiling sexual-enhancement device.
In no particular order:
What can I say? That was some really good chili.
“Did Anna friend you?”
Anna was someone from our past, a woman with an insanely cheerful and ambitious sexual history. She told crazy stories, sometimes backed up with the craziest of photos.
“On FaceBook?” I asked. “Yeah, but we don’t talk.”
“You remember the sex swing?”
Well who could forget something like that?
The sex swing figured prominently in Anna’s stories, and Mary and I found ourselves wondering aloud as to why we didn’t own one, why we hadn’t been telling stories about the sex swing.
I could post a picture, of course, but a wink, as they say, is as good as a nod.
It took several off-color jokes and a colored-pencil-and-glued-macaroni diagram (we couldn’t find the glitter), but we've come up with several ideas as to why we have never owned a screwed-into-the-ceiling sexual-enhancement device.
In no particular order:
- After finding a stud in the general populous, we’d have to find a stud in the ceiling. Have you seen me hang a picture? A nail pounded into a wall with the heel-end of a dress boot is my specialty.
- Speaking of which, I’m going to need a full-color, instructional brochure on how to use such a swing. Perhaps something frame-worthy.
- What about the amount of exercise that would have to take place prior to getting into the swing? I mean, who knows where those straps will cut? Control of the jiggle factor, to my mind, is crucial.
- The drawing up and signing of the legal documents, holding me blameless and giving me rights to the story should anything untoward/amusing happen whilst strapped into the swing, would be prudent.
- I would need to give ol’ Ron at Nationwide a call. Will my homeowner’s insurance cover enthusiastically-incurred injuries?
- And speaking of insurance, do I have the money set aside to cover my medical deductible – and what are the odds of ending up in a Horrors of the Emergency Room video?
What can I say? That was some really good chili.
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22 comments:
the liability issues...OMG
I put up a picture of one of our cows on FB yesterday. After reading this, I realize how truly BORING I must be. But the odds of me ending up on one of those shows are negligible.
Delores, LOL. Can I even AFFORD such a thing?!
Shelly, don't let those cows fool you. Kinky. Kinky animals. :-)
Where can I find a demonstration of this device?
I'll need that recipe, Mary! I'll have what you're having!
T first I thought this was going to be about Bruce Jenner.
What has this world come to when you start to factor in liability to getting such a contraption?
I think these are best used by the very young. I could tell stories, but I would have to turn in my WASP card.
Are you allowed to shout "Weeeeee!" whilst you're on it, or is that considered a bit too far?
Ol' Ron at Nationwide might blush. Or possibly have a heart attack. Best leave him out of the picture.
Nice word play on "studs"
Hari OM
I got sick on the swing in the back garden at 6 years old. Haven't been on one since... what does that tel ya??? YAM xx
Not to mention the fact that the entire ceiling might come down on top of you.
Suppose it can't be much worse than having the bed go through the floor though...
But if you do decide to put up a sex swing, I want to see photos. Maybe Anna could use it in a demo. That'd be a good picture since you indicated she's up for most anything.
You got me again with the "color-pencil-and-glued-macaroni diagram (we couldn’t find the glitter)". It's another Pearl of Pearl.
The AARP magazine had a cover article about Bob Dylan this month but I'm still thinking this story and photos or diagrams may be just a bit racy for them. Fascinating, though.
I must remember never to eat chilli, in case my brain goes off on such a tangent.
Bot that i have any experience but I always thought it was the dude who went in the swing?
You could switch to Allstate ... but you'd have to make the swing big enough to include the Mayhem guy.
This is funny stuff. I remember seeing such a contraption, long ago, in an issue of Playboy (that My Dad had hidden between his mattress and box spring, but that's another story.) I recall thinking, "That looks... complicated."
You're smart to check your insurance. It's a well known fact that if your swing is swinging for more than four hours, you have to go to the nearest emergency.
I can't imagine beyond the chilli!
I love the title of this post. All I can think of is the whole contraption pulling loose from the ceiling and crashing to the floor.
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