Anatomy of some naughty bits

Friends know I’m always on the lookout for a good laugh, and if it’s naughty humor, all the better.

But even I was a little taken aback by the new post in my inbox this afternoon from a blogger I began following this week. It is called The Penis Poem.

Yup. It is an ode to this fellow’s … best friend (?), specifically how this, um, little guy (no offense meant) greets the day. I caught myself blushing as I read, even as I smiled (it IS a rather clever poem).

And after I got past the shock of it (and checked to see how this particular post was illustrated. Oh go on, you would’ve checked, too!), the poem got me thinking. Yes, I felt a little (well, a lot) like a voyeur reading Redwheelbarrow1957’s imaginative ruminations, but I had to consider that maybe that’s how some people feel reading Pushing on a Rope.

After all, while I’ve been writing about bra shopping, dancing on stage and how I could never manage to spend a day at the nude spa unless I was wearing a Snuggie, I’ve been really revealing my innermost thoughts.

I try not to invoke TMI, but the truth is some posts — particularly the ones about the search for my birth mother — bare much more than Redwheelbarrow does today.

And I couldn’t help but think that while I will continue to read Redwheelbarrow’s poetry, I sure hope we don’t ever meet. How could I look him in the eye?

I hope Pushing on a Rope doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but rather gives you some things to think about, a few things to laugh about — some ideas you can relate to.

That’s all for now. It’s been a full day of work and chores and party preparations for tomorrow’s Sweet 16.

It’s time for a good, stiff drink.

What did you think I was going to say?!