FIND ONE!

To my surprise, the last five comments underneath posts on this blog present a conversational progression, and a train of thought. Fortuitous, exciting, and great big giant vistas are now open before my eyes.
I don't know about you, but I see a pattern.


Pears in heavy syrup with miracle whip. Gag me with a spoon.
on BOSC PEARS ARE IN SEASON. SO IS BITTER MELON.
[Anonymous at 4:59 PM]

Hash is good for people whose teeth have gone bye-bye.
on YOUR FOOD STINKS
[Anonymous at 4:58 PM]

What the blistering fuck do Japanese cigarettes have to with feminists, abortion, uteruses, censorship, or debates about any of this?!? Jap cig dude, piss off, you're daft.
on DON'T THREATEN ME WITH YOUR UTERUS!
[I've got a great big giant clitoris! at 4:57 PM]

What kind of crazy chick would sleep over at your place?
on WHY THE DINOSAURS DIED
[Never that depserate! at 4:52 PM]

Find one.
on DON'T THREATEN ME WITH YOUR UTERUS!
[The back of the hill on 1/2/16]


In truth, only the last two form a cohesive thought, though that was not how they were intended. And I will frankly admit that the name chosen by the third commenter ('I've got a great big giant clitoris!') caught my eye almost immediately, before any patterns became apparent.
But let us not speculate about clitoris envy.
And not even mention Ms. Jenner.
That would be tacky.

[CLITORIS -- From Merriam-Webster: "a female sexual organ that is small, sensitive, and located on the outside of the body in front of the opening of the vagina". From Wikipedia: "A sensitive elongated erectile organ at the anterior part of the vulva in female mammals".]


Like most male bloggers, I have always thought of the clitoris as mister Penis's tiny younger brother, hiding unnoticed in the shrubbery. Or his younger sister, if we're going to be gender-correct. And perhaps bereft and alone, forsaken and forgotten. Which, I realize, is most unfair.

I suspect that in the case of miss I.G.A.G.B.G Clitoris, that in fact may not be so. Or possibly mister I.G.A.G.B.G Clitoris. Can't tell the gender from here, and don't really need any further personal details.
Mr. or Ms. "Big" has shared enough data.
Please, no more.
TMI.


I am keen for most of my readers but have little urge to find out much more about them than I can infer or guess from their comments.


Because I am a softie, I fervently wish that little clitorides all over the world find the company and attention they need.


But I shall not volunteer to give it to them, as I am a grouchy middle-aged badger-like individual, of somewhat solitary habits, and would at most be able to relate to only one of the little beasties if any. Nor am I really looking anymore, because while I love cats, dogs, and small furry animals, most clitorides almost certainly have rabies or distemper.

They should always be warm and comfy.
And have long fun-filled lives.




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