When you live out in the country you learn how to pronounce things differently, which is how I learned I was a whore. And believe me, it's not as glamorous as it's been portrayed in movies, and I should know because today was my "first day on the job", so to speak. It really kills your back, and now I've got callouses on my hands like you wouldn't believe. I got quite a workout, that's for sure, but I came up with some pretty good techniques.
For instance, to really get the most out of it you need to grasp the shaft firmly, then really get your arms and legs into it. Don't be afraid of hurting yourself or you're going to do it wrong, and that's definitely not good.
Other people probably do it differently, I've read and heard about others using toys and devices, and hey, I'm all about everyone living their lives their own way. I don't mean to judge anybody, after all, that's not what I'm here for. But for me, if you're going to be a whore there's really only one good way to go about it and that's the old-fashioned way. I know I'm a lot happier for it, callouses and sore back aside. Luckily I picked the perfect time of year for it, because it seems like everything is just bursting with that Spring spirit, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, that's the update from Nerd Country for today.
Edited to Add: Darn it, spell checker let me down again!
See, out here in the sticks we pronounce it with two syllables -- "HOH-er", and that threw me off. The correct spelling above should have been "hoer". I guess hacking out all those weeds from the lawn wore me out worse than I thought. But there's no way I'm using a Weedeater or gas-powered tiller, if a traditional hoe is good enough for real country boys, it's good enough for me!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
On Being a Whore
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2 comments:
Great posting, Jeff! It takes a while to learn just how these Texans pronounce certain words, and they have a dialect and slang all their own. The day my boss said (in all seriousness), "Well, that ole dog won't hunt," I thought I'd fall over laughing. And the day someone described a horse as a "dun" horse, I thought they were cooking him, never dreaming they were talking about a color. And we won't even go to the conversation I had with a priest about the definition of a capon. Let's just say certain body parts are removed from roosters with a little, bitty knife. I'm still red with that memory!!
Took me *way* too long to figure that one out (and to click the "read more" link). Good one, Jeff.
Denise, I've heard those a few times, especially the "dog won't hunt" one.
I got a good kick out of it the first time my wife's grandfather referred to a big rainstorm as a "real frog-choker."
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