Will Knit for Sex?

My husband and his male (go figure) friends tend to find humor in sending each other juvenile emails.  Most contain photos of men doing stupid things, boobs, or men doing stupid things because of boobs.  This evening we’re sitting back to back at our respective computers and he starts chuckling hysterically.  Now as this response can be brought on by a number of things: finding a booger shaped like a dolphin, a well designed fart, burping the alphabet…….. I felt the need to ask what was so funny. (It was actually a self-defense mechanism should I need to make a quick escape before a breeze blew my way.)  It seems the latest email offering from a friend included several pictures of elderly people in various interesting situations.  I usually resist the urge to look as I always regret it but it’s late and…….well there’s just no excuse.

Now I personally find the elderly fascinating people.  To think that my grandmother grew up with an outhouse, gathered around a radio for entertainment, watched I Love Lucy live on a black and white TV that was first on the block, had an actual Avon lady that knocked on your door each week……..and now blogs.  To have lived through so many decades of change.  I love and respect the elderly.  I hope to be one.  And I hope in my lifetime the decades I live through provide as much fascination for me as the decades she’s lived through.  But there are some things about life as an older person I’m just not ready to envision in quite the detail previously mentioned email has provided.

I’m momentarily speechless.  See for yourself:

Yep.  It’s a deflated elderly butt in a thong bikini. 

Now I’ve often said, “If I ever get thin again………” but I do believe I need to amend that statement to, “If I ever get thin again before I turn 97……..”.  On one hand I’m thinking this lady has earned the right to wear whatever she pleases.  If she feels sexy in her 90′s (I’m going with 90′s because if she’s really 55 I might just have to kill myself) then she should flaunt that badonkadonk.  But there are just some things you would rather not have pop into your mind when you think about grandparent archtypes.  Grandparents should evoke thoughts of hugs and cookies and dollar bills and swinging you like a cuckoo clock……..not deflated naked butts and sex.  Yes, sex. (Cue next photo)

 

Thought you were going to see old people doing the nasty didn’t you.  PERVERT! While not provocative, this photo did bring up several questions. 1. WHAT is she willing to knit for sex?  Is she giving away swatches or sweaters?  Does it depend on the requested act?  Do men who provide merino alpaca blend get “bonuses”?Maybe she’s knitting patterns from Naughty Needles or DomiKNITrix.  2.  Why is the man behind her so enthusiastic?  Is he her pimp or is he just finally glad he’s figured out how to get her to HAVE sex?  Notice the lip prints on his shirt?  HMMMMM.  3.  Who is the slightly inebriated looking gentleman with his dirty hands on gramma?  Maybe he’s the infommercial guy and the man in the back is the testimonial happy customer.  Maybe he’s an alpaca farmer and is throwing her this party for increasing his profits through her innovative entrepenuership.  4.  How long does it take her to knit for sex?  She better be using Addi-turbos if she’s got a high sex drive!  5. Why is she advertising on a paper cone hat?  Couldn’t she knit one?  6.  Does this mean that we know what all the little old men wearing scarves have been doing?  Is the length of the scarf indicative of anything?  7.  Is this why so many elderly ladies take up knitting?  I thought it might be because they needed something to do while waiting for the Viagra to kick in.  At the very least I thought the needles would be a great deterrant.  Seems not so much!

I still have a few decades to enjoy before people are poking fun of my elderly sagging butt in a thong bikini (I can only hope it’s deflated enough to sag.  Right now the thong string would have to be made of nautical rope)  Until that time, I might have to take a little more interest in getting some of my UFO’s finished (unfinished objects for those non-knitters).  You never know when I’ll be tooling around the nudist retirement home and wanna join in the orgy.

MARITAL DISCLAIMER:  My husband is a delightful, cultured, and well educated man who would never indulge in such nonsense…………..Ya, I’m not buying it either.

MATERNAL DISCLAIMER: While I acknowledge my mother has first rights to gramma stories, the historical frames of reference expressed herein are general enough to apply to anyone’s elderly gramma. 

ELDERLY DISCLAIMER:  Dear elderly ladies,  I apologize for the use of your pictures in my blog.  Please feel free to sue your family members and other beach goers who took your picture then posted it for the whole world and any aliens in the radiosphere to see.

www.braindebris.wordpress.com

Booby socks: Need I say more?

When teaching middle school students, there are a some words you do not utter during instruction unless you want to lose complete control.  Sperm.  I heard you giggle from here.  Grow up!  Some words are sure-fire gigglers and I’ve even been known to change my lesson plans after dragging myself out of bed in the morning and realizing that I was NOT up to saying sperm today.  Then there are those words that you never expected to be giggle-getters but, had you read the pubescent memo, you should have known better.  Cookie.  See, nothing.  I had one math class that had a different interpretation of the question, “What would happen if Gloria gave James her cookie?”  Oh Grow up!  Cookies became off limits for the whole rest of the year.  Do you know how hard it is to teach math without cookies?

What does this have to do with Booby Socks you ask?  I was briefly wondering that myself.  A few months ago I was having lunch with a fellow teacher and knitter who asked me (in a loud and very clear voice) if I had purchased a Booby Sock kit yet.  Did I mention this lunch was being held at an in-service with dozens of other teachers?  Go ahead: try it.  Move to the center of a large group of people and say, “Booby Sock” and see what happens.  Apparently middle school children are not the only ones who respond to words seemingly out of context.  A few older teachers frowned at the B word.  The male teachers were suddenly very interested in knitting socks.  And me, I just shook my head to clear the images of just what the heck a booby sock might look like.  Unfortunatly, while doing so I missed most of the explanation.  ( I finally settled on the image of two socks just dangling off your chest.  After all, there’s not much more material they can eliminate from bikini tops.  Cut the strings off and you’re left with booby socks.)

Not being able to admit I missed the explanation of the now infamous knitted item, I was forced to go home and google the term.  (I couldn’t search at school since the filtering software frowned on the search criteria.)  Amazingly, the advent of the Booby Sock seems to be a well kept secret.  So I called the local craft center.  It seems asking if you carry Booby Socks is equivelant to asking if you have Prince Albert in a can. 

I did finally locate said kit and discovered that the socks go on your feet.  Who would have guessed.  The sock pattern looked rather fun to knit (NOTE to SELF:  looked and is are two different things)  and who could pass up the opportunity to knit a toe with a nipple while contributing to Breast Cancer research.  I could never have anticipated the added benefit of seeing the look on your auto mechanics face while explaining what you are knitting.  I think the brakes took so long to fix because they were hoping I’d try them on

www.braindebris.wordpress.com