FFWD Weekly
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Mr. Smutty by James Martin It has come to my antennae that our weekly transmissions have been falling into enemy hands. That's right, top-drawer top-secret communiqués such as "A Hilarious Look At A Tragedy In Another City" and "People Are Stupid Idiots, Except For Us" – documents intended For Your Four-Eyes Only, dearest reader – are being intercepted by third/fourth/maybe-even-fifth parties. The location of the aforementioned parties (as well as whether they're BYOB) are presently unknown. Until this disturbing development is corrected, we shall conduct our beeswax in code. This way, nobody except (and possibly including) us will know we're discussing matters most dirty. Indispensable in times like now is The Bald-Headed Hermit & The Artichoke (Arsenal Pulp Press, 154 pp.), an "erotic thesaurus" (read: big book of dirty words) compiled by a Toronto, Ontario psychiatrist calling his/herself "A.D. Peterkin" (yeah, right). A handsome volume decorated w/ filthy illustrations/photos (Washington Monument, Leaning Tower of Pisa, etc.), the book is a seemingly exhaustive collection of sinful synonyms. "Pubic hair," for e.g., is a.k.a. "wool," "fuzz," and "Fort Bushy." Something to keep in mind the next time you pop into the salon for a dye touch-up. It pays to improve yr word-power, so let's put this newfangled technology into practice, OK? Normally, I would say something to the effect of: Hey you, didja hear the one about the Missouri-based company which manufactures artificial testicle implants for freshly-neutered dogs & cats? Ideally, this statement would be next followed by a joke about Missouri being "The Show-Me State." And there would very likely be giggles about the inappropriateness of the company's use of food imagery ("gummy bear feel," "marshmallow soft") to describe the implants' texture. One such joke could very well involve Bob Barker. But now, under our new regime of encryption, I would instead opt for something along the lines of: Hey you, didja hear the one about the Missouri-based company which manufactures artificial happysacks for freshly-neutered dogs & cats? I'm talking about counterfeit cannonballs, fake Chicken McNuggets, faux family jewels. Y'know, saddle bags! Chumblies! Cojones! John Waynes! Yarbles! Do-dads! Monster-balls! Mountain oysters! Are you getting the "swing" of things here, reader? Good! I think yer ready to try one w/out any help. Ahem. OK, I'm ready. In addition to spreading disease to poverty-stricken people who might not otherwise be able to afford infection, rats are real handy in a research laboratory. Scientists have made great break-thrus in treating rats suffering from asthma (riflemen who walk the Alberta-Saskatchewan border report finding far fewer of those tiny li'l inhalers lying on the ground), and of course all us humans are relieved ’cuz we can't stand the thought of those poor rodents wheezing their way thru our landfills and slums. [Note: the following passage is where you need to employ yr secret decoder skills.] Speaking of rats, scientists have also discovered that male rats & male humans share similar traits when it comes to the act of making the beast w/ two backs. Yessiree, men & rats have a lot in common where matters of afternoon delight are concerned. Ditto goes for dancing the featherbed jig and/or the horizontal jitterbug. Yep, if you get a room fulla rats & men, they'd have a lot in common w/ regard to the slap & tickle/parallel parking/basket making. What these similarities are exactly, I'm not sure – but they both enjoy a good game of night baseball, if you know whut'm sayin'. Wow, men & rats – who woulda thunk it. Isn't nature queer? We'll laff about this for months to come, I'm sure. Anyway, I think our secrets are safe... for now, at least. Until next week, always wear clean unwhisperables in case you get in an accident.

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