I posted this memory as a reply
, but I don't want you guys to miss it. The story has some deep relevance, and I think it might help you to find some kind of meaning in life. It says important things about art and communication and true love and snowballing your girlfriend. Failing that, it's funny as hell, and I don't want to lose track of it.*Scene: several years ago. Sargon and I are in a car going 65 mph down the highway. I turn on the radio. Merill Bainbridge's "Mouth" comes on.*
Me: "Oh! Oh! This song is about lesbians."
Sargon: "No, dude, you're high.*"
Me: "LISTEN. IT IS ABOUT TWO GIRLS SIXTY-NINING."
Him: "No way. It's about, like, kissing and stuff."
Me: "Heh. Kissing POON, maybe."
Him: "Noooooo . . ."
Me: "Listen. I'm serious. There is a whole fucking story here. The girl gets her girlfriend to go down on her and then they kiss after the photo finish, and she tastes it. You know. Because you CAN taste it."
Him: "Whoa. There'd have to be a lot of it."
Me: "Well, maybe she's a squirter. Or, it could be more complicated. Like, these two chicks have a threesome with a guy, okay? And he comes inside one of them, right? And the other chick is totally into it, and goes down on her. You with me? And the song is sung by the first chick--"
Him: "The one he came in."
Me: "Right. About how she wants to taste his come in her mouth. Or the second chick could've just swallowed, and cut out the middleman."
Me: "Yeah. But I like the first way better. Because it's just dirtier that way. Hmm. Or it could be a guy going down on her."
Him: "Oh, man, sloppy seconds. Ack!"
Me: "Hey. You know, if a guy sang this song, it could be about a couple of boys who--"
Him: "Where exactly are you going with this?"
Me: ". . . Wrongsville?"
Him: "Right. Can we . . . not
Me: "Look, if it's making you uncomfortable, I'll turn the song off."
Him: "I LIKE THE SONG. But, man, you're reading too much into it."
Me: "Honey, what do I do for a living?"
Him: "You write really freaky porn."
Him: "Um. Gotcha."*Fast forward, two weeks later. Husband turns on radio, same song comes on.*
Him: "Oh, hey, I love this song. It's about lesbians, you know."
Me: "You fucking dick
*I spitefully change the station. Sixpence None The Richer's "Kiss Me" comes on.*
Both: AAAAAAAH! LESBIANS!
And I swear that is how it happened. He claims he's the one who thought it was about lesbians first, but I distinctly remember that conversation, almost word-for-word. One of us is crazy.
*Normally everything is all about pussy with this guy. He must have been sick that day or something. Or just being a contrary ass. Which is, you know, one of the things I love about him.