Friday, September 16, 2011

It's Whoreticulture Friday!
Issue 71

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 people I work with. Or people who represent Carolyn Keene's estate who might sue me for trademark infringement, as we are now in Nancy Drew Month on A Day In The Wife.

Today's Book: The Clue in the Crumbling Wall (again)

Oh people.  I have a real treat for you today.

So Current Husband and I have been getting the basement ready for our big remodel down there so we have a place to send the children with their friends and to play instruments.  This will mean an upswing in the sleepovers again, but I'm okay with that.  I'm ready.  Plus, I will get another full bathroom in my house, which will kick butt.

Here is what the basement looked like a few weeks ago:

Now it is worse.  All the walls are down, all the framing is gone, and all of that white drywall on the ceiling is gone.  We are having the whole ceiling painted white with the exposed beams and ducts and everything, so I guess I am going with the IKEA look, but it will look more open and cheerful and whatnot.  Which this basement needs, along with a good scrubbing with bleach after what I found.

PREFACE:  This is from the files of "Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction".  I swear this is all TRUE.  It is somehow fitting that I have a blog with Whoreticulture Friday and this was in my ceiling.  Carry on.

So the kids and I are cleaning up chunks of drywall from the floor, and I see a letter in the rubble. "Oh, an old letter!" I say to the kids.  "This is like 'If These Walls Could Talk' on the History Channel!"  The kids are only mildly interested, because, as evidenced by our "Chicago: City of the Century" experience, they are repulsed by history.  It turns out that this disinterest is a good thing.

The letter is written on a sheet of paper from a company notepad from the late 50's or, more likely, the early 60's.  I say this because it's from US Steel Corp, which closed it's Moline location some time ago, and it says "Call 4-5616" and the phone company stopped using five digit phone numbers in the Sixties.  The letter was folded into a giant postcard of Marilyn Monroe.  This all fits beautifully into Nancy Drew month, because my letter in the ceiling was written during Nancy Drew's time!  Coincidence?  I think not.

Carson Drew was NOT mailing anything like this.
Or was he?

For only 3 cents, you could spread Marilyn Monroe all over.

I think, "How quaint.  It's in a vintage postcard!  I love vintage."  And then I start reading.

I know it's a little hard to read, so here's what it says:
"This WHIP will help you to come and also punish you for willingly screwing another woman.  It gives me pleasure to whip your ASS - now return to your room - don't forget to kiss me goodbye between my legs - return Charles to his room Sheila.
Good morning, Sheila.  Bring Charles to me in garments #2 - garter belt - hose - long gloves - net blouse - earrings - makeup.

Good morning Charles, here are your things to wear - you will look dainty - all right you may rise and dress - you look lovely - I hope she sucks you off today - I would love to suck you too - come let go (??)
Good morning Charles, you look sweet, you may rise - Sheila you hold him from behind by hugging him and don't let him move - I want to suck him - he needs relief - Glub Glub - you respond quickly Charles"
Um.  Glub Glub?  I'm going to vomit now.  Needless to say, I did not share this lesson in historical porn with my kids.  Whose grandparent wrote this?  It was stuck in my basement ceiling!  Here are the emotions I felt while reading this:  Shock, disbelief, slight revulsion, laughter, and then "Oh Dear God there was a sadistic bipolar rapist killer in my house and I need to bleach the whole thing down."

I also thought of The Bloggess and Copernicus the Homicidal Monkey  - "A hug is like a strangle you haven't finished".

The men who read this think it's a woman who wrote it.  The women think it's a man.  My vote is definite man.  The handwriting looks more man-like, women had nice writing back then, and this letter has no emotion, all S&M bipolar multiple-partner role-playing stuff - HELLO!  That's a man.

If Blogger will let you comment, send in your vote - Is the author of this 1960's S&M porn a man, or a woman?  We'll leave it up to the people.

Happy Whoreticulture Friday, and have a great weekend!


GrandeMocha said...

A man wrote it. "Glub glub" is so gross, it it my new favorite saying.

Julie the Wife said...

Our neighbors came over one night to have some drinks with us, and our neighbor did a dramatic reading of it for us, it was hysterical. Now whenever we see them in the drive it's "Hello Sheila. Glub glub." It's sick, but giggly.

Shirley said...

I can't imagine any woman getting turned on my the phrase, "Glub, Glub."

Julie the Wife said...

For the record, four facebook votes for men, and two e-mails for men. That is SO a man.

Lisa @ akawest said...

A man in a net blouse just doesn't sound sexy, no matter how I picture it.

Rhonda said...

man. the glub glub gives it away.

Kris said...

OMG, that is hilarious. I think a woman wrote it for a man, actually...haha, I will be thinking about this ALL DAY and MUST share it with my husband tonight!

Anonymous said...

Glub, glub? Eww. Definitely a dude. No doubt.

SarcasmInAction said...

A man DRESSED as a woman wrote it. Sheila may not be a she....

Mel said...

I am complete baffled by this entire thing but, like you, want to vomit in my mouth. Reminds me of when I was cleaning out a house we used to own, a 1940's number, and I found a magazine rolled up in the garage rafters. I was all excited thinking it would be cool and interesting. Instead, it was some nudist picture book of boys. It was very hard to resist the instinct to burn down the garage.

Janel said...

Is "glub glub" the precursor to "nom nom"?

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