This could be a chapter heading in a seventh grade sex education textbook. You can take it from there.
While wondering what on God’s green earth the author of today’s title had in mind, the thought transferred to what all of this group will conjure up! Do you recall the biology class that introduced you to a slide with a single amoeba slipping about in some medium creating a duplicate self—sort of like Narcissus if he could have had his way with his reflected image?
The single word slippery brings to mind all sorts of accidents wherever there is water or ice concerned; or perhaps the perpetrator who slips away with his/her criminal act, whether heinous or simply stupid. I suppose you could recall some sexual acts too, but I don’t want to open Pandora’s Box (no pun intended). I assume someone of this august literary meeting will have attempted to address “sexuality” with the birds and the bees, while others will have dived headfirst into the more prurient aspects of this title. I plan to pay rapt attention to your offerings and surely take notes for future application.
As I reach to the bottom of this page, I am aware that I can stop all of this pointless rambling and simply stop searching my imagination for something intelligent or just amusing about “Slippery Sexuality.”
Oh, an afterthought, picture a large vinyl sheet, eight to ten garmentless gay and merry celebrants, an ample supply of baby oil or chocolate sauce or whipped cream. Now that would fill the bill for today’s assignment. Have fun; don’t slip!
© 11 April 2016
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