Thursday’s entry from the Ellora’s Cave folks over at Red Lines and Deadlines is a scream. As in, I read the first eewey euphemism for vagina and ran screaming from the room.
Seriously. Is it possible to write a convincing or even mildly lukewarm love scene using these phrases?
In other so-horrible-you-wheeze-and-cry news, Bitchery reader Jen sent me a PDF of “The Worst Album Covers Ever.” It will break your heart, and ruin your eyesight, but if you right click and download, you too can swing your own gospel axe. Go on. Hurt yourself. Or check out some of them along with other examples online.
“one-eyed purple-headed yogurt slinger”
my lovely lady lumps, in both the back and in the front are offended…
but the album covers cleared my sinuses so I guess we can call it even ~AW
::shudder::
A lot of those have the curvy, groovy script of the 70s – Worst. Decade. For. Fashion. Ever.
I know; I lived through it (as a teenager).
If you want some more fun, try the lileks.com site, which has stuff like this:
http://lileks.com/institute/frahm/index.html
Of course, that’s not from the 70s, but who said crappy fashion (and cheesy, weird ideas) were the province of one freakin’ decade?
Oh, and check out the 1977 Fredericks of Hollywood ad that looks like a supermarket ad…
Verification word: over 99 – I AM NOT!
Euphemisms: Gah! Ew! Ow!
The word “inflamed” should never be involved! HOOOOOORK!
Too many of the euphemisms for penis can also be used as euphemisms for pimples. And with that disgusting mental image, I leave you.
It’d be fun to match the euphamism to the albumn cover, no? Joyce’s album could be Drenched Hair-Topped Cavern. And who could resist a copy of Albino Boa Constrictor by Orleans?
Ummm… somebody’s cock is pointy? How… umm… what… err… does that hurt?
And “pleading pouting gate of her vagina” just… well… go all euphemistic and then reach for the health class word for the big finish? Plus why is it pouting? Did something pointy come at it without warning?
Ack!
“Oozing” is an iffy word at best when describing anything but an uncomfortable symptom. Pair it with “inflamed” and we haven’t got arousing, we’ve got a yeast infection.
Anyone else think that shot of Tiny Tim is bizarrely reminiscent of Alice Cooper? Come to think of it, if they waren’t the same person, why haven’t we ever seen them on stage together?
YUCK. I can’t even think of anything else to say. My brain hurts.
HAHAHA. Okay, not only gross but HILARIOUS. If I read any of those in a book, I would be completely turned off…man, total mood killer.
bloated…pulsing…bud…OMFG
uh, hello, my pussy is NEVER bloated…geeezus
omg, those covers!!! And the most terrifying thing about it is that the “Geraldine and Ricky” one, I have seen that before. My mom owned some albums. oh my lord *dies of the shame*
Tiny Tim did look a lot like Alice Cooper (if 35 years older, and unlike Alice actually dead), but a scarier comparison is Mick Jagger and Don Knotts.
If Mick Jagger wasn’t a rock star he couldn’t get a supermodel to run him over with her car.
The euphemisms: EWWWWWW
The covers: Damn, am I a hip snide weirdo if I think about how cool it would be to own some of those? Like “The Braillettes.” Don’t hate them ‘cause they’re blind, hater!
I dunno.
I am rather fond of “swamp of love,” myself.
Also, “southernmost slippery lips,” which sounds like a fun cocktail:
Southern Comfort
Bailey’s Irish Cream
and what could stand for lips?
Help, please!
Object of her oral affection…I am SO going to use that.
WOW, those album covers are priceless. For some reason the “all my friends are dead” title made me burst out laughing. Is that wrong?
Those album covers are great. Rumour is that the fire on the Satan is Real album almost burned down the room the photo was taken in.
Also: MC Pooh, hip-hop gynaecologist.
Please…PUHLEEZ…everybody here must surely realize how difficult—or nigh unto impossible—it is to write erotic romance without becoming predictably, yawn-inducingly repetitive in the description department. Smut scribblers have been slammed…and slammed again…and slammed yet again—until there are divets in the review mat—for their uninspired and mechanical sex scenes. So ask yourselves: How many “acceptable” synonyms, euphemisms, and word groupings are there?
And you’re wondering what sends writers into the the realm of swamps and yogurt, of inflammation and seepage and ooze?
Let this be a lesson. Be careful what you wish for…
As a writer of erotic short stories I suppose I can agree with Wry Hag that sometimes it’s difficult to find another word for cock or breasts, but really people, it’s supposed to be sexy not vomit-producing.
I wonder if I’m the only one who enjoys the occasional sex scene that doesn’t bother with weirdly creative euphemisms and horribly deformed bodies that would prevent a woman from wearing a white skirt and a man from finding boxers that fit. Sure, if you’re into that, you can imagine it yourself without the writer having to get out the thesaurus of nastiness and fondle the keyboard with sweaty fingers.
Waitasecond. “Can I Borrow a Feeling” is a real song? Isn’t that what Milhouse’s dad sings to woo his wife back on the Simpsons? Man, that is so wrong.
Please, to pass the industrial strength brain bleach and heavy duty wire scrub brush?
I’ma tottering back to my LJ and staring at my Cabana Boys—
And should I be frightened, given the proliferation of gospel album covers that comprised that monstrosity, that my word is “faith11?”
Nancy Beck> GOD, THE CELERY/KNICKERS INTERFACE IS HYSTERICAL. Hysterical/celerical? Hycelerycal? Anyway, that’s just made me explode laughing in a good way. I’m not touching the rest of this post.