Dear diary,
Wait, this blog post isn’t supposed to be a memoir about a
few of my exes? *awkward laugh and shifty eyes* Anywho, (side note: Did you
know that according to Urban Dictionary, anyone who uses the word “anywho” has
a weird personality and is stupendously awesome, magically gifted, and a snappy
dresser? True Facts. Especially those last three items.) But I digress. Today’s
topic is research. Specifically, the oftentimes strange, fascinating things I
uncover on the internet while doing book research. AKA: the oftentimes strange,
fascinating things I undercover on the internet that actually have nothing to
do with the book I’m writing but flounder-shaped paddles popped up under the
search findings and there was no way in hell I wasn’t clicking on that link.
I know what you’re thinking. Flounder-shaped paddles? WHERE
CAN I GET ME A DOZEN OR SO OF THOSE?!? Hm, not what you were thinking? You’re
more of a salmon paddle connoisseur? I might have to dig a little deeper into
Google Search to unearth where to buy those puppies. Apparently getting your
ass smacked by a rubber salmon hasn’t reached the socially acceptable standard
that flounder-whacking has achieved. Maybe one day, people. Maybe one day. But
back to the flounder paddles. Yeah, they’re a thing. For reals. I’m assuming
they’re unscented. Not that I’m judging those who might want the accompanying
waft of eau de filet o’fish while getting spanked. To each fish own, I always
say. By now you’re probably wondering what kind of person would be drawn to a
site that peddles flounder paddles and Snakes in a Can. (side note #2: Snakes in a
Can isn’t code for seeing how many well-endowed men you can cram in a public restroom
stall. I know, I was disappointed to discover this too.) The other amazing
factoid my Googlefoo powers uncovered is the existence of Coulrophilia. Clown
fetish.
According to Urban Dictionary, it’s “the paraphilia
involving sexual attraction to clowns, mimes and jesters.” Up until that
moment, I had no idea such a thing existed. I could sort of understand the
jester thing. I mean, who doesn’t
love a man in tights and pointy shoes? And mimes? Who doesn’t love a man stuck in an invisible box who’s also mute?
But clowns?
CLOWNS???
Have none of those people seen the movie IT?
But then it occurred to me. For some, that might actually be
part of the draw. No, not a scary fanged clown who lives in a sewer. (side note
#3: How bad was the housing market in Derry that Pennywise had to settle for
the sewer? Dude, resale value=STINKSVILLE. Literally.) But I digress. (Side note #4: I’m
highly skilled at digressing. In case you didn’t notice.) For some, clowns
represent fear. And there is a direct link for many between fear and arousal. Why do you think vampires are so damn sexy to
a lot of us? It’s not because they sparkle, I’ll tell you that much. Now I personally
know a fair amount of people who are terrified of clowns, and if I so much as
suggested they carried a secret fantasy of getting banged by Bozo they’d
probably smack me with a flounder. And not in a good way. But that’s not to say
that some folks haven’t found a unique way to deal with their clown phobia. It’s
also possible that it has nothing to do with fear at all, and clowns just represent
a fun, silly side to their sexuality.
Or they just like getting slapped on the ass by a flounder.
Either way, I’m never going to look at a clown the same way
again. Or a rubber chicken.
Until next time, when I add to your future therapy bills by
discussing giant werewolf dildos...
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