This week's column will work a little differently, readers. In lieu of the usual witty repartee, I want you to read the list of words aloud. Like, really loud ' unless you're in class; well, an important class.
Kirby. (Come on now, say it.)
Supple. (With some force, please.)
McDavis. (Just give it a good yell.)
Giant squid tentacle. (Now, as you scream this, point at a stranger.)
All right, that's enough. Now which one gave you the shivers? It was supple, wasn't it?
That's what she said.
I suppose it could have been the other words if you're, say, a former member of the swim team, a disenfranchised student aghast at the lack of administrative oversight or Captain Nemo from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Maybe.
For the rest of you, however, certain innocuous words just feel dirty. Say supple again. Gross, right? Or this one ' moist. I hate moist.
That's what she said.
These words sound perfectly innocent most of the time. This baked chicken is moist or this veal brisket is quite supple. Now try to apply these same words to the next person you see on the street.
Actually, don't. That would be disgusting.
Friends suggested other not-dirty-but-not-entirely-clean words: masticate, tainted, wet, Libertarian. All of them have innocuous contexts, but leave one of those dangling out of context and someone is bound to shout that's what she said.
Or, more likely, they'll just think it and laugh.
But I have to wonder what causes our collective squeamishness at some measly adjectives. Is it a cabal of adolescent males bent on ruling the world through their mastery of toilet humor? Is it the hyper-sexualization of American society? Is it The Office? That's-What-She-Said Day?
There's a simpler answer. It's because we can and because we like it. No one stops us from turning every other phrase
into something sexual. Even those of us who claim to live above the Seven Dirty Words humor can't help but laugh at a well timed she said. And the rest of you just do it whenever you can; however you can.
That's what she said.
We live in this strange, infantile atmosphere, where we reward the 20-year-old who can recognize the faintest slight of sexual undertones in everyday conversation. I mean, sometimes I feel overwhelmed. It's like it's coming from all sides.
That's what she ' you get the point.' Justin Thompson is a senior journalism major. Send him an e-mail at jt315004@ohiou.edu.
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Justin Thompson
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