I have a secret to tell you. You must not never, ever, tell nobody never. Promise.
Well, umm…err…umm. Here it is…
I don’t like dirty talk in bed. Or out at the dinner table. Or on the footpath. Or during surgical operations. I’m not even sure whether it is proper during artillery bombardments.
You may ask me to frangle your jangle or express the wish to molyp my polyp, but as soon as you shout it out, I want to put on my overcoat and leave. Frangling and molyping is all very well, but let us preserve a decent silence while it is going on.
Likewise the business of being a right little foul mouth during normal business hours. It may be the new norm of social conversation and I may be a hidebound old puritan for avoiding bad language, but if you wish to obtain my complete cooperation, do not descend. I know the words, and I know what they mean, but I do not wish them thrown at me in normal conversation. There’ll be a little leeway granted in the matter of emotion if you are being eaten by a crocodile at the time, but short of that…no.
Is there anything you should say to increase my interest or ardour?
” Here, have a cocktail and a bowl of snacks. ” is a good start.
” Does this ( garment ) make my ( portion ) look big? ” is always a good conversation starter as long as you are not going to get angry if I say ” yes “.
” Do you want a ride in my hot rod/custom car/vintage limousine? ” will ensure complete attention.
Past this, the thing becomes a matter for speculation. If you resort to foreign speech or sign language I have no idea what will take place next.