It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 80

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 anyone who lives within 10 miles of me. Or parents of my children's friends. Or cat vandals.


Today's topic: Hump Day Forever


A few nights ago, my house was quiet. This is newsworthy in that my house is never quiet, but the kids went to bed without protest for a change and I had a little 10 p.m. facebook/Twitter time. I'm happily creeping on other people's pages and reading celebrity tweets when I hear this loud THUNK like a water balloon hit the side of the house, and then Raaaaaarwwwwr RAAAAWWWRRRR!!!!

It was immediatey recognizable as cats having sex, but it sounded oddly like vandalism, like someone did a drive-by and instead of throwing a Moltov Cocktail they threw f**king cats at our house. Who hates us so much they'll throw f**kng cats at the house?

Our neighborhood on a daily basis. 

It's like an opium den of cat sex in the yard.

But most of the feral cats are black

and missing signifcant chunks of fur.

I run downstairs to Current Husband's office and start saying, "Did you hear that?" when it's like they are in the room doing it. RRRAAAAAWWRRR! HISS HISS HISS! THUNK THUNK RAWWWWWWRRRR!!!! It's like the National Cat Fornication Service just activated a Cat Sex warning and the siren is going off.  Take Cover!  Take Cover!  We look at each other with wide eyes, like "Is that what sex sounds like?" because it's been awhile and we've forgotten. CH opens the curtains to the egress window in the basement and lo and behold, total cat sex peep show in our window well.  The cats see CH and they literally shoot four feet into the air, mwowling, and we can hear them howl all the way down the dark street.  We so look forward to increasing our brood of 34 feral cats to 87 this spring.

But lest ye think the mating is over in our hood, fear not, gentle reader.  Everyone in our hood is doing the Humpty Hump.

The other day I walked out to show my sister our crumbling chimney when I glanced over to our neighbor's yard, where their yellow lab was busy mounting a visiting chocolate lab.  This was an arranged date, but Zeus is a little short in the leg and was having trouble getting on his taller date.  What he lacked in height, he made up in stamina, and even without the aid of the doggie sex stilts I recommended to the neighbor, he managed to get the job done more efficiently and with less noise than his feline counterparts.  And?  Zeus is a broad daylight kind of guy.  There's no fear there.  It's a "Check it OUT, neighborhood, I've got balls bigger than your cars!"  Meanwhile, George the Superpet, ball-less wonder, stood at the fence, watching sadly.

The next night, George had his chance at love. 

The neighbor was having a little bonfire and invited me over to have a beer with her.  I brought George the Superpet, and the moment he got inside their gate his gaydar went off and he started humping their male dogs like he'd just done a line of coke at the Stonewall Inn in Grenwich Village while the DJ played Lady Gaga.  He was just born this way.  The neighbor's two male, un-neutered labs had to lay down on the grass so George couldn't hump them, and then he just walked around for a bit air-humping.  My neighbor and I were laughing, but I felt a little sorry for him.  He's so repressed, and everyone around him gets to have sex while he's stuck in the house watching the Disney Channel. 

George, mounting Grandma Jan at Christmas. 

Awkward for everyone.

So, in sum:
1.  Someone is throwing f**king cat bombs at our house in some weird kind of hate crime.
2.  Short dogs have bigger mojo.
3.  George the Superpet is a repressed sex machine.

Spring has sprung, people.  Get out there and enjoy it like an animal.