Babel Clash

Because I love it when they do! I gotta admit: I’m a swearer, as is Jane. I sometimes wonder how I got such a potty mouth, then I go home and watch as various members of my family drop F-bombs like they’re pilots during the Blitz. It’s like I was raised by a horde of Midwestern pirates prone to stubbing their toes. Cover your ears if you go to the Peeler’s, people.

So, I don’t mind swearing, and I’ve already established I adore a little filth. I also like it when people poke fun at sex, because it is funny, and I have Jane’s libido say some purposely ridiculous things. What I don’t enjoy is when people mean the F-word…and then they say something else. You know what I’m talking about.

The Dreaded Euphemism.

Now, I get it that writers have to be careful. An author writing a sensual scene might not want to risk sounding porny by going all Lawrentian and throwing about the “C” word. There are also a lot of times when a softer, more subtle approach that closes the door gently in the reader’s face works wonders for the imagination as well as the libido.

What I don’t like is when people write what’s pretty intense sex…but don’t use a single “real” word. Instead, they attempt to disguise their writing in euphemisms, as if sex and sexuality need to be stuck in evening dress to be presentable. Here are just a smattering of my least favorite, fairly commonly used euphemisms. Huge thanks to my friends on Facebook and Twitter for helping me compile this list:

Firstly, there’s the “garden variety” euphemism. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes wonder why I want to start planting flowers after I read some sex scenes. Then I remember that “petals” are now labia, which have been described as drenched in “dew.” “Rosebuds” have taken over for bits that are anything but(t). Other people have reported spotting “purple tulips,” “aching buds,” and “nests.” But not the kind sparrows live in! Finally, there’s the dreaded “manroot.”

Then there’s the group of euphemisms that I normally associate with jewelry, but what do I know? Clitori becomes “pearls,” which are not to be confused with “beaded,” as in nipples, unless they ARE confused, and then you should just go ahead and rub everything vaguely pointy. But be careful, in case the nipples are “rubies,” or “diamonds,” or “pebbles.” Fruity pebbles?

And where do I begin with the Weapons-Grade Euphemism? “Swords” fit in “sheathes,” but not so much the “lances.” They just poke at high speeds, presumably. As do “shafts.” “Torpedos?” Really? But I’ll take a torpedo, any day, over a “battering ram” charging at my “gates.”

Finally, and this is where I always get a little squicked, there’s the adjectives. Now, don’t get me wrong. I know that describing sex shouldn’t always be scientific, and I know that a lot of words of which I’m not a fan will push another person’s love-nubbin-of-pleasure. But here’s a short list of words I’m either tired of seeing, or a little squicked out by:

• Throbbing. Do you need an Advil, for the love of all that’s holy?
• Pulsating (see above)
• Fleshy. Does one ever grasp the thing described this way and discover, to one’s shock, it’s TITANIUM?
• Oozing. I know things ooze. I know it’s accurate. But there’s the whole “connection to sores” thing.
• Straining! I see puppies. Happy, frolicsome puppies.
• Turgid. Turgid Turnips Turnabout!
• Spicy. Nothing ever described as “spicy” really tastes “spicy.” Ever. So don’t go thinking you can make a curry.
• Moist! That is all.

And then there’s my absolute LEAST favorite . . . the thing that makes me both vomit, a little, in my mouth AND makes me crave some chips and dip . . .

• Creamy.

I can taste the cool ranch, even now. Now where DID I put those Lays?

How about you guys? What euphemisms have you read, heard, or (gods forbid) said that really knocked you for six?

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