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This is what I’ve always wanted to know, pretty much since the first time I ever had sex:
Why do they call it ‘cum’?
What’s wrong with ‘come’? Isn’t that sexy enough?
Cum just sounds silly, cheap and disposable. It sounds like a brand name.
Spam, Tampax, Alpo and Cum.
Or a branded additive in another product.
Porn – now with added Cum.
If you ask me, cum is a perversion of the English language. One I just can’t abide. Call me curmudgeonly if you like, but it just doesn’t sound right.
While we’re on the subject, if you feel the need to splooge, jizz, spunk, nut or cream, do so by all means, but not in my face, or anywhere near, but if you’re going to skeet skeet or shoot your wad then I’m your girl.
And I’d rather have a cock than a prick any day. Wouldn’t you? I’m no size queen but prick just makes me think, ‘pin-prick’ or a ‘just a little prick’ – which really doesn’t turn me on.
Boast all you like about your wang, your schlong, or your dong, just keep it right where it belongs. In your pants. Because it’s not coming anywhere near my pussy. And whenever I hear a guy talk about Dick, Willy, Johnson and Peter, it just makes me think of a bunch of dudes circle-jerking in a men’s bathroom.
I don’t want a cock with a name. I want a man with a cock.
It doesn’t have to be big, but it definitely has to be hard and operated by someone with a license to drive. Because there’s no point in banging hard on the accelerator if you don’t know how to apply the brakes, turn the wheel or shift gears. And that gear stick? If you want to put it in my box, you better know how to use it.
You see, a penis is all well and good, but a cock feels so much dirtier and more poetic. Cock makes me think of a cockerel. And a cock struts and crows. You can cock your head, your arm or your bat. Or you might be the cock of the walk. And that all sounds like sex to me.
Don’t think I’m a prude, because I’m really not. And I don’t mean to be reductive or prescriptive because I guess everyone has their own personal preference if we’re talking sexual vocabulary. So let’s not argue over semantics. I’m just going to state this here for the record. For me, it’s ‘come’ over ‘cum’ all the way.
You’d think an educated young woman might have more profound things to spend her time thinking about than the most satisfying way to articulate ejaculate. I’m not so sure about that.
I mean, you can search all you want for the deeper meaning of existence, you can look for the physical proof of God. You can read as many books as you like on the subject, on any subject – books on religion, on science, on philosophy, on nature – but I guarantee you will never, ever find an answer that satisfies you. That really satisfies you, deep down, giving you a sense of well-being that you finally know your place and purpose in the world.
Why?
Because the answer is already right there, in front of you.
Come.
You don’t believe me?
I’ll prove it to you.
Let’s start with a statement we can all agree on:
Sex is the engine of life.
Because without sex there is no life. And equally, without life there is no sex. They are inextricably linked, like the chicken and the egg. Likewise, sex without come is like a Big Mac without the special sauce. It’s the magical essence from which we all, well, come. Because every single thing that exists in this world needs to reproduce to survive. Even the common cold. Existence itself relies on the reproductive process.
From the birds to the bees, the flowers and the seeds, the same exact process is repeated over and over and over – from micro to macro. I don’t really need to say this. It’s all basic science and biology. But maybe it bears repeating, because I think we forget.
The Big Bang created a universal body made up of solar systems – giant wombs, incubators for the planets, which are cosmic eggs waiting to be fertilized with the seed of life, which is:
Come.
And that, in essence, is my sexual theory of life, the universe and everything. The only string theory I’ll ever need.
And for all you people that are more spiritually inclined, all I can say is, you weren’t paying enough attention in bible class, or reading the good book closely enough, because if there’s something that the Bible is not short of, it’s sex. You can barely turn a page without finding someone wondering when God will come, when Jesus is coming, when salvation cometh.
You say, don’t be silly.
I say, we’re taught to take the Bible literally, I’m doing exactly that.
If the Bible really was intended as a guide for life, why would the people who wrote it want to play semantic tricks with language and hide its meaning?