From: mloy@indyvax.iupui.edu (Mark Loy)
Subject: Re: TAN: filing taxes (was: Re: TAN: Benefits of Cloning?)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written.robert-jordan
Date: 20 Feb 1998 18:28:08 GMT
Message-ID: <mloy-2002981336510001@134.68.134.43>
References: <slrn6dda7n.l7v.Jsn@galileo.cris.com> <34DE5EA7.7732@tenet.edu> <98F60D37090C188F.0713D97F32CF0C31.C86CCA0303743BB3@library-proxy.airnews.net> <34e9b436.1005892@news.zoomnet.net> <6cdsgd$jg8@news-central.tiac.net> <mloy-1802980950580001@134.68.134.43> <34ED128B.3190@cornell.edu>

In article <34ED128B.3190@cornell.edu>, Dorit Koren <dk38@cornell.edu> wrote:

> Mark Loy wrote:
> > 
> > In article <6cdsgd$jg8@news-central.tiac.net>, msteeves@tiac.net (Michael
> > Steeves) wrote:
> > > Ah, so perhaps the problem is that we *do* need more sex education in
> > > the schools, so that people may learn the business ends of their
> > > genitalia?
> > 
> > Fuck that.
> > 
> > I say let 'em learn about sex the same place I did.
> > 
> > The Greyhound bus terminal in Waukegan, men's restroom, stall number six.
> 
> They'll learn all about the mechanics from restroom stalls, Mark, but 
> ya can't expect people to make the jump from "sex" to "pregnancy". 

You mean _that's_ where little Eric came from?

Huh...I never made the connection.

Well, I mean cause my wife, Deb, wasn't even there. 

 
> It just ain't that intuitive.  Or so I've been told.  I'm a big fan of 
> 5th grade sex, myself:

Well who isn't?

Oh sure, eventually you'll have to pay the piper and become some guy named
Bubba's prison bitch.

But other than that little inconvenience, hey, it's a great hobby.

Or so I've been told.
 
> Teacher: "So, kids, do you know what that little hanging thingy boys 
>                                                                                
have is called?"
> 
> Students chorus: "Penis!"  

Well, at South Park it'd be something more like...

"His long assed love missle!"

"Like you'd know, Cartman."

"Mrrr lkkk shrrt essst lv duhd."

"Good one, Kenny!"

"Hey, shut the fuck up, you guys!  I Know what I'm talkin' about, I tell
ya.  It's like when your mom puts vaseline all over ya and dresses you
like Shirley Temple and makes you wallow around on some waxed paper while
she and some strange man take turns with the shop vac."

<silence>

"What the Hell you talkin' about, Cartman?"

"You don't call yours that, do you Stan?" asked Wendy Testaburger.

<BARF!>

"I didn't think so.  I bet you call yours your dinky."

"Dinky?  Ha!  Stan's pecker is called dinky."

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman.  At least my mom's not a charter member of the
dildo of the Month club."

"She is not!  Her subscription ran out over two months ago."

"What are you kids talkin' about dildos and dinkies for?"

"Hey Chef...what do you call your dick before you make sweet love to someone?"

"What do I call it?  Children I don't have to call it, it comes all on its
own.  But not too soon and not just once.  Why I think I can say it best
in a little song...I want to lay ya down in a field of clover and make
sweet love to you and lick ya all over, uh-huh, oh yeah...makin' love in
the noon-day sun, rubbin' sweat slick bodies in the heat of pash-un as I
make sweet love to you."

<silence>

"Hey uh...thanks Chef.  That clears it up for us."

"Don't mention it, kids.  See ya at lunch."





ML