Bangs, Ohio: Free Porn Edition

Ok, normally, when I stay at my sister’s apartment on Monday nights, she is here, and not at all at her on-again-off-again campus boyfriend. not tonight.

Ah well. I’ve been wanting to scrounge through that panty drawer for a long time now. And that box of personal notes and trinkets and forget-me-nots? Consider them read, my darling.

Interesting holiday weekend to report.

There was the usual Thanksgiving halibut, mashed potatoes, gravy and pregnant ladies. And afterward, back in Bangs, well-fed, and lookin’ for a fight, we completed the usual plumbing repairs, hanging of drywall and shoveling of bat poo out from the farmhouse attic. But then … an HGTV-level If Walls Could Talk discovery.

Hey kids! It’s a nice healthy stack of Hustlers circa 1978! Although many of the pages were stuck together (likely because of their age) we were able to make out a particularly disturbing series — “Women as meat” — involving condiments, and even greater still, a back cover advertisement of a … (cover your ears, mother)… a do-it yourself home enema … kit. Complete with naked ladies…plastic bags of poo.

This collection dovetails the erotic housewife novels we found in the barn. What kind of people lived in Bangs? Oh, Shirley and Tarlton Wayne. The 70s must have been mental for you.

Also, we found a book, The Bangs Gang, published by Bangs Publishing, Inc. of Mount Vernon, Ohio. I assume the company is now defunct, as there is no proof of their existence on the Internet. The book is a collection of short-story ramblings that make absolutely no sense, but otherwise looks professional. I’d guess many drugs were involved.

also, don’t be caught off guard when flipping between a re-run of The Break-Up and The Chronicles of Narnia — Starz has a free soft-core porn preview available for Dish subscribers this month.

The thing about nakedness is: sex is not a pretty thing — even if, and this is rare, the humans involved are in peak physical condition. But that never happens. Most sex happens between two physically imperfects. The guy making your sub at the sandwich shop. The bank teller. The dude in the car rocking out with the bad hairdo. The Wal-Mart cashier. The guy in Borat — these are the kind of people smearing together, reproducing, etc. Try not to think about it.

gross.

Speaking of panties, something happened at work last week to spawn the following list of Recommended Steps When a Male Co-worker Discovers That Misshapen Piece of Paper on the Floor Next to Your Desk is Actually Some Sort of Girly Product that has Somehow Loosed Itself from Your Purse:

1. Determine if the male grew up with any sisters in the home. If the answer is no, you’re screwed. Skip to step No. 5.
2. Don’t immediately pick up the item and shamefully hide it. Let it sit for a moment. Let the moment sink in. Let the moment breathe. Like the commercials with the panty liner and the bouncing red dot.
3. Acknowledging your embarrassment before you make a move toward the floor.
4. Reassure the man that everything is ok, and that such products will not spoil him in any way. Explain the female reproductive cycle, if a dry erase board is available.
5. Giggle uncontrollably for three hours (days?) every time you think about it.

Here’s to life in the newsroom’s Estrogen Circle, buddy. The year 2000. Sub the flasks and the typewriters for colorful drapes and chocolates. You knew what you were getting into when you sat down.

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  • PDawg

    I would comment but I’m not feeling well.
    stupid PMS.