There are certain words I hate. I don't actually have real reasons for hating most of them. I guess I just don't like the sounds of them. For example, I hate the word "panties" and I was actually kind of glad to hear Nick Lachay say that he hated it too on one episode of Newlyweds....what? (OK, SO I WATCHED NEWLYWEDS! IT WAS A GLORIOUS
CARWRECK AND I COULDN'T LOOK AWAY!) Panties is just a silly word and for some reason it evokes the idea of kiddie fiddlers to me. Like only dirty old men who leer at little girls would use the word. I know that's not true but it's just one of those words that I avoid using because it gives me the creeps.
"Boobs" is another one of those words. I know everyone in the whole world finds it acceptable but I really just detest that word. And I actually cringe when I hear nursing children use it. I'm sorry, I don't really know why but it just bugs me. Almost every other rude word for breast is fine with me. Well, I am not overly fond of "fun bags" but the others, they are ok. But boobies...yeesh. I think the etymology of the word comes from "bubbie" which I have seen show up in Middle English literature (damn, that makes me sound smart, don't it?) which, for some reason, doesn't offend me nearly as much. Honestly, I can't explain it. (And, even more disturbingly, as I type this, the word "boobs" has just been utttered on TV.)
There are, however, two words that I know exactly where I learned to hate them. It was college and I was editing the literary magazine. SHUTUP! I got a stipend, I was an English major, it was a perfectly respectable job. And I liked it. But I was an edgy editor! Oh yes, I was. I instituted "blind reads" so that the people choosing the poetry would not know the names of the writers. And I collected readers from all majors so we would get opinions from someone other than snotty English majors. It worked well. Until that one fateful night.
We were all sitting around reading poetry and marking it. A plus (on the back, so the next reader wouldn't be swayed) if we liked it and thought it should go into the magazine, a minus if we didn't like it and a check if we thought it was ok but not necessarily a favorite. Seems fair enough, eh? But on this particular night, a minus wasn't going to be enough to express our collective horror and distaste.
I wish I had the actual poem to show you, I really do. You would find that you no longer liked the words "moist" or "erect" either.
It was a love poem. No, actually, it was a sex poem and after the first reader discovered the poem it was a free for all. Everyone wanted to know who the writer was. I tried valiantly to keep the info contained but...well...you know. I was over-powered by poetry enthusiasts. They can be tough ones, you know.
It was bad. There are certainly sexy sex poems that anyone can appreciate. This was not one of them. And while I am sure that the object of the poets desire was flattered by his use of "erect" and "moist", I was totally turned off.
Those words have been on my no-no list ever since. And hey, that cake might be really moist, but I will go to great lengths to not describe it as such. And you can rest assured that no one has received an erector set from me since that day.
One last thing. The poem also contained the phrase "labial lips." Not only completely unsexy but redundant as well.