By Rumple Oxbridge, The Pacific’s radical rhymer, sometimes referred to as “rhymer-in-residence.” I was going to say a little goes a long way but if I may be so bold why should any sex be sold? Watching nakedness cavort suggests it’s just a spectator sport; love is touching when eyes are closed– open, it’s just rubbing.
By Rumple Oxbridge (imaginary rhymer-in-residence) Without a witty lover sex is just a spasm, a reflex too clinical and brief, the climax prelude to a sleep or flight . . . This no wit in bed denies: a deft tongue is doubly prized.