Friday, October 25, 2013

WHAT HAVE YOU GOT THERE?

The other day an acquaintance took umbrage at my request that she stop with the gay jokes at my expense. "Have you listened to yourself", she snapped, and changed the subject. Given that there has been no indication of any sex drive on my part whatsoever in her presence, I was somewhat taken aback. Maybe she was reacting to my discomfort at her ribald descriptions of her own conquests.

She likes little boys in their early twenties.
As a conversational subject, it's limited.
Quite as dull as farmyard rutting.
Please leave out the details.

Like anyone, I am absolutely overjoyed that people I know have sex-lives. It's probably the one single good thing about being grown-up; you get to bang someone, in private comfort behind closed doors, without any chance of shocking your parents.
Unless, of course, you still live with them.
It's a bit tricky then, so I've been told.
They barge in without warning.

I have been subjected to her inelegant boasting about the male bimbos she's bagged a little too often. She almost sounds like a man.
A gay man.


If I happen to meet you, I do not wish to hear about your sex life unless I have been a recent part of it. Which is natural, albeit extremely unlikely. Quite impossible, in fact. There's been zip for years.
Hypothetical conversations could be educational.
The only people with whom you should ever discuss what you do and how you go about doing it are the person (or the people) with whom it is done or will be done, and conceivably a doctor or psychotherapist if there's something odd about that.

Instead, I would love to hear about your major in school. What books have you recently read? Which authors do you hate? And why? Are you hungry right now? I know a place where we can have a bowl of pig blood cube congee!
Okay, that last one is likely to chase people away . Better leave that out, especially if the other person is female, intelligent, and cute.
Might want to know her better before scaring her off.
So, no bowls of pig blood rice-porridge.
We can talk about art.

Beautiful ceramic bowls. Bronze or jade pig figurines from the Shang Dynasty. Cubism, and geometry. Copper glazes, cone 14 to 16.
Ivory figurines. Blanc de Chine from DeHua. Nephrite.
Everyone likes discussing art, even manly men.

Of course, when you meet someone who actually does art, you're likely never to get a word in edgeways. They'll seize brutal control of the discussion, and meaningfully wrestle it to the ground.
Best not talk about art.

Food is also out of the question, as most people don't like any gustatory experimentation, and there's a definite risk that someone might mention pigs blood cubes.


The key rule of social conversation is to never mention money, religion, politics, or pigs blood cubes. Do not bring these up at the dinner table; strong opinions and overturned tureens result.


Actually, I'm kind of at a loss conversationally. I never know how to proceed until I'm too far in, whereupon almost anything can come up.
Conversations tend to be like roller-coasters, largely because of the unpredictability of other participants. They might bring up their own rambunctious sex lives.

Really, only perverts want to hear about that.


Wouldn't you rather talk about pigs blood?




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