September 24, 2009

I was going to write about something else, but then the word flaccid came across the screen in a pop-up (I'm working on a pop-up frequent proxy).

Flaccid poetry. We poets would all like to think, as Mr. Lusk used to say, we are rocking out with our cocks out. But we all know that's not we're doing.

What we're doing is more sinister and against art.


Blogger Ferndale Denizen said...

Flaccid is pretty obvious, but try finding sexual innuendo in auto repair manuals. My Quebecoise partner and I will work quietly for hours and then explode with laughter at the most ridiculous things we are translating. Inserts, heads, twisting. On ne pense qu'a ca.
Really, you would expect more from mature women.


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