Just the other day, I was editing my forthcoming book, The Handbook of Sex Tips, rereading the questionnaire:
Who can say which is best? The beauty of suggestion. The moment of bliss. Or the memory afterward?
“What do think, Mr. Penis?” I asked. Mr. Penis, for those who don’t know, is a character from Catullus. He is not known for his insights. Not surprisingly, he said nothing.
Gaze wistfully into one another’s eyes. Tell me. What do you see? Mr. Penis remained unresponsive. Like Thallus, he has gone soft in the head and often drifts off to sleep when reading in bed.
Which of these terms best describes your wife?
She’s on you like white on rice.
She butters your biscuits.
She’s the smoke and the fire. And lit at both ends.
She can tend to her own knitting.
Which best describes your husband?
He’s all that and a bag of chips.
He’s stuck to you like a hair in a biscuit.
He’s a pig in a poke.
He has his bird in too many bushes.
I began to wonder what kind of woman I was. "Mr. Penis?" I asked. That's when I noticed he had slipped out into the night and left me alone without a word. Or backward glance. I continued reading the questions:
Do you do secret chores for your spouse? Does he notice? What are you wearing tonight? I went to the closet and pulled out my silk peach camisole. “Now aren’t you precious?” I thought to myself as I sashayed across the carpeted bedroom. I considered writing the next chapter of my life—about the return of Mr. Penis.
Terrific, Molly. Thank you!
Posted by: David Lehman | August 20, 2020 at 05:03 PM
Is this the same Molly Arden who studied classics at Cornell with David Mankin? We were classmates back in the day. . .
Posted by: Jill Newnham | August 22, 2020 at 11:14 AM