I got this little holiday catalog in the mail today.
It had the things you would expect a catalog like this to have: embroidered elk duffel bags, remote control candles, Star Wars light saber pen sets in a collector's tin, an Eclipse board game, and the guitar table lamp. You know, stuff everyone wants for Christmas.
As I was thumbing through, dog earring just about every page, I found this:
Yes, this phallic kitchen device is called the g*Spout.
One time, a group of seventeen-year-old boys were restoring an old wooden row boat. They named it Morning Wood. Their scout leader thought it was such a cool name--poetic, even. Of course, when he told me the name, my shocked eyes made a noticeable appearance.
"What?" he asked.
"Do you know what that means?" I asked, dumbfounded, as the group of boys behind him were trying to keep their hysterics quiet.
I looked at them and said, "If you don't tell him, I will."
At that, as their joke suddenly came to light, they could no longer hold it in. I have rarely seen a group of teenage boys so incapacitated . . . for so long.
I wonder if anyone told the editor of the catalog what she printed opposite the Teacher mugs.