Tag Archives: cushion

Cushion

Cushion: (n) a soft bag on which to sit, kneel, or lie.

I must warn you that if you are sensitive, parochial or very squeamish about sexual matters, you probably shouldn’t read any further.

So now that I have everybody’s attention…

I will tell you an embarrassing story.

When I finish telling you this tale, I will share why.

When I was eighteen years old, I had a girlfriend who went off to Europe and didn’t contact me. It was understandable in the sense that what we had shared was a high school affair. She experimented with me and I with her. She just thought the experience was done sooner than I did.

Problem was, the experiment brought about a pregnancy in the Petri dish.

Therefore, the lack of hearing from her left me upset, bereft, and dare I say, horny. (We all know that once you awaken the magical worm or open Pandora’s Box, there’s no going back to hand holding and kissing.)

Yet, I had no intention of finding another girl and having sex.

But no one—and I say NO one—ever taught me about the miracle of masturbation. I had no idea.

Even as I write this, I realize how unlikely that seems. But all I knew was that I had a penis that was looking for a vagina, and absent a vagina, an adequate stand-in was needed.

So one day, lying on my couch, I unzipped my pants and let my little wanderer out. I noticed that when I rubbed it against the couch cushion, it felt pretty good. After a few minutes, though, it also hurt.

It was a contest.

Does it hurt more, or does it feel good more?

I persisted—so much so that my little trouper got all inflamed and angry. It was very sore.

Trying to figure out what to put on my friend to make him feel better (because alcohol was bad and Ben Gay was out of the question) I opened the medicine cabinet, and there was my mother’s bottle of lotion. I put some on my hand and reached down to comfort the reddened area.

Eureka!

I not only comforted my penis, but ended up discovering, in that moment of time, what was missing from my training.

It was a magnificent moment.

Earth-changing.

I was grateful.

My girlfriend did come back and she became my wife.

But I will tell you one thing: it’s a damn shame if a young boy does not know the correct male usage for hand lotion.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Blunder

Blunder: (n) a stupid or careless mistake.Dictionary B　

The human race is constantly coming up with more gentle terms to cushion the word “failure.”

If we think we have been outstanding, “victory” or “success” seem to cover it well. But when some error occurs, the degree of severity has to be tenderized by the selection of the appropriate word.

Sometimes we’ll start off by saying, “It was a misunderstanding.”

Or “We misspoke.”

Occasionally we work up the courage to pronounce our last effort “a mistake.”

But it’s very unusual for human beings to be so forthcoming as to admit a blunder.

Other words avoided are “fiasco, a big pile of poop, idiotic”… and of course, the more truthful and cleansing pronouncement:

I fucked up.

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Beanbag

Beanbag: (n) a large cushion, typically filled with polystyrene beads, used as a seat.Dictionary B

The beanbag chair is the “government cheese” of furniture.

It’s too bad.

Beanbags come in a variety of colors. Matter of fact, they even have quite a choice of stylings.

Yet the best way to communicate to people around you that you’re only moving into the apartment temporarily, to soon be evicted, is to sling a bunch of beanbag chairs around your living room.

Some of them are very comfortable–that is, if you decide to situate yourself in them and not attempt extraction. At almost any age, getting out of a beanbag becomes a purposeful action. Yes, it is a campaign which you approach with great sobriety.

That’s why beanbags are considered the seating choice of the unemployed. It’s not that these people are unmotivated–just uncertain as to whether they can actually get up from where they’ve placed themselves.

I’ve had some great conversations sitting on beanbags. Many years ago, during the coffee-house era, it was the preferred perch. But honestly, no one who has money, ilk, conceit, preference or even a conscious awareness of decor will ever purposely select a beanbag to include in the layout of a favored room.

So if you are deciding on your stock portfolio, I could not recommend investing in beanbags.

That is, unless the next President of the United States helps to make us all very, very poor again. 

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