Fecal Cough
A reader writes in and suggests the term “Fecal Cough” as an apt descriptor for certain nuances when deconstructing the larger ‘bag hierarchies.
I like it. Fecal Cough. It has a certain poetic resonance. A mixture of the polite euphemisms of late 19th century Russian literature yet with a whiff of early 20th Century modernism and futurism. And by whiff, I mean poo.
And so it is with Arthurian pomp and circumstance that I knight white tie ‘bag here Fecal Cough. Not simply for the bling. Not simply for the facial pubes. But simply for the uber-douchen silken white tie + no t-shirt look. If that don’t say ‘bag, then my name ain’t DB1.
Inflated hottie has a nicely hybridized 1920s German Cabaret + Alex in “A Clockwork Orange” look going. Sure she may need a little dental work. But, to paraphrase Ferris Bueller’s Ed Rooney quoting Faulkner: Between teeth and boobies. I’ll take boobies.
See, I knew we’d wax poetic eventually.
