These Penises Aren’t For Me

The following is a text message conversation that occurred this past week.

February 8th 10:17 AM The Great Unwashed to Sula

“Can you do me a favour?”

February 8th 10:17 AM The Great Unwashed to Sula

“Can I send you a whole bunch of pictures of animal penises to print off?”

~The Great Unwashed realizes how strange this request sounds and sends a text message explaining the situation.~

February 8th 10:25 AM The Great Unwashed to Sula

“They’re not for me, they’re for my Mom.”

Recognizing that this statement might need further clarification, The Great Unwashed sends off yet another text.

February 8th 10:32 AM The Great Unwashed to Sula

“For Valentine’s Day”

In a show of just how understanding a friend she is Sula replies;

February 8th 11:04 AM Sula to The Great Unwashed

“No problem. Only in black and white though.”

This is the Valentine I had intended to send my mother on February 14th.

On the cover:

“Dear Mom,

I know you hate flowers so I decided to send you images of the genitals of other animals instead.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, “written below a giant walrus stiffy

“I love you very much” written above an excited elephant.

And on the back “May you have a fun and unique day loving others “the text encircling a  picture of a seahorse about to get it on.

For everyone who isn’t a biologist, flowers are the fun bits of a plant. My mother is a scientist, so I thought she would get a kick out of my strange Valentine. That is until I saw a whole bunch of walrus stiffies. They’re totally awkward and not at all safe for work. Also the sight of them is enough to put anyone off love of any kind for a good, long time. Thus even I, in all my weirdness, could not send something so bizarre and pornographic to my mother. She got a nice email instead. And Sula got points for being an awesome friend who was willing to print out pictures of kangaroo goolies. Although I don’t think the strangeness of the request registered with her, seeing as Sula broke her boyfriend’s electric razor last week trying to clean up a mountain goat hide that she had skinned out herself. Apparently two foot long erection bones are just another day at the office for field biologists.

Naked In Public: The Roommate Edition

I’m living with a biologist named Meredith*. She recently moved in, as always when one acquires a roommate there is a bit of apprehension. Will we have interests in common? What if they have weird habits? Happily, I’ve discovered there are multiple benefits to this arrangement; she shows me the skulls of various animals that she’s found during her research over coffee and I react with interest.Then  Meredith, in turn doesn’t bat an eye when I trench the backyard in the name of diverting our waste. In fact, her greatest worry, when I dug up the side of the yard to bury the week’s compost, was that I might be able to see her while she prepared to shower. Given how high up the bathroom window is, and how short I am, it would have been physically impossible, at any rate I was more interested in the earthworms that I was digging up.

Apparently Meredith’s fear of unintended flashing is limited to me. When I returned home from my evening class last week, I heard a cry of “Just a heads up, I’m half naked”. The comment registered with me, as I sat down to untie my shoes, but it didn’t sink in until I entered the kitchen and found Meredith standing in a nude coloured tank top and her underpants. “You’re half naked” I said, stating the obvious. “I did warn you” my roommate shrugged as she packed up the last of her dinner.

“I got tired of standing in the bathroom waiting for the tub to fill. So I came out here to clean up my dishes.” She added by way of explanation. The bathtub in my house was the inspiration for the poem “Rub-a-dub-dub three men in the tub”, it takes no less than forty minutes to fill up, if I was a little smaller, I might describe it as a swimming pool.

For all those who recognize this image, yes, I went there. (Photo Credit: storybook.london.ca)

For all those who recognize this image, yes, I went there. (Photo Credit: storybook.london.ca)

Meredith continued to talk away while washing pots and pans in the sink. I interrupted her. “Do you mind if I close the blinds?” The alleyway is becoming a fire hazard what with all the frat boys pressing themselves against the window to watch you. “Oh. Ha!” Meredith laughed turning towards the open window. “I didn’t notice that.”

As I lowered the blinds, impeding the view of my buxom, young roommate in her skivvies, the frat boys let out a collective groan. I had to smile; no matter if the dirty dishes pile up in the sink, at the very least, Meredith and I have a penchant for accidental indecent exposure in common.

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of persons who count lifting one and a half times their body weight as a hobby. It seems prudent not to annoy people who can quite literally strong arm you into submission by publishing their name on the interwebs.