It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 40

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws. Or bosses. Really, I wrote this at home. I save trolling the Internet for porn for the workplace.

Today's topic: Auto Erotic Crime

Oh holy crap.  I've really done it this time.  It's midnight, officially Friday.  Here is what I needed to do before the clock struck 12, in no particular order:

• e-mail my sister
• shower
• finish a freelance job for a corporate client
• blog
• finish "The Girl Who Played With Fire"
• get lunches and coffee ready for tomorrow morning
• pay bills

Since I've always had lifelong issues with prioritizing, here is what I've been doing for the last three hours:

• finishing "The Girl Who Played With Fire"

Damn you, Steig Larsson.  (Since he has died, I will rescind that comment.)  I keep telling myself that all of the sadistic sex in the books turns me away from them, and then I keep coming back, like a mom to soccer practice.  It is midnight.  I've finished the book, and nothing else.  What shall I do next on the list?  Blog, of course.

The problem is that I have to finish all of the other things on my list because I'm driving five hours to Nebraska (hold your snarky comments, I am a native, Go Big Red) on Saturday morning to visit my parents and sister and friends for about 20 hours before I have to drive five hours back home in time to go back to work.  Ugh. I really hate weekends like that, and while I used to road trip with the best of them (14 hours to visit future CH at school?  No problem!  This is why God made Mountain Dew and the song Radar Love!), I can no longer tolerate driving more than about 2 hours before my granny hips start to hurt and I get tired and ready for my meds and pureed peaches and sponge bath from the nice nurses.

With my eyes to the road trip, it was interesting that my friend Heather e-mailed this story to me tonight:
WOMAN NABBED FOR AUTO EROTIC SEX CRIME


Go ahead.   Take a moment to read the story.  You won't regret it.  


Are you done?  Good.  Can you believe this story?  WHO SPENDS THE MONEY TO GET THE WINDOWS TINTED ON A PONTIAC?  What is wrong with her?  That is a crime against the auto industry.  The Pontiac was perfect exactly the way it was when it rolled off the assembly line in 2008, there was no need to desecrate this fine vehicle in this manner.


I can relate to everything else she did.  Who among us hasn't unbuttoned their pants on a long car trip?  I don't know about you, but as soon as that Quarter Pounder Value Meal hits that stomach acid, I start to blow up like Mama Cass.  It's time to release the hounds.  And hey, as long as your pants are unbuttoned and you are driving across a boring stretch of road, say I-80 between Des Moines and Omaha, what better time to kill some clock and take out your vibrator?  If you have to make the drive, you might as well enjoy the ride - am I right or am I right?  Because if you are watching porn, it's almost IMPERATIVE that you use your vibrator.  Really people, this is elementary.  If I wasn't meant to watch porn while I'm driving, then why did the car makers start INSTALLING DVD players IN the cars?  And if I'm not meant to watch porn off of the laptop of my companion, then why did they make passenger seats in the front by the driver?  Everyone knows the co-pilot does nothing but distract a driver, whether by changing the station to Sean Hannity or falling asleep and drooling on themselves or turning on a XXX movie on their laptop.  Porn, of course, is what I almost always want to watch after taking a hit off of my crack pipe.  I mean Christ, have YOU ever driven across Western Iowa and Eastern Nebraska?  Sometimes all the Fountain Mountain Dew in the world just ain't gonna cut it.  And what makes me want to hit the crack?


You guessed it.  Tinted windows.  Because when your car is that dark and private, it just doesn't make sense NOT to smoke some crack, eat a Quarter Pounder (they ARE crackalicious), unbutton my pants, and use my vibrator while watching porn on the lap of my passenger.  While driving.  Because I am a MOTHER, dammit, and we are MULTI-TASKERS.  I bet she signed her kids' planners and returned some library books and applied mascara in that 15 minutes too, but the police didn't write those things up because they are not technically "illegal".  


So three cheers for Colly Crackberry.  Way to keep it real.  We at Whoreticulture Friday honor you.

A quick shout-out to Current Husband - today was our 15th anniversary!

 How many wives blog about their privacy-loving husbands?

 You lucky son of a bitch.