Genitals in a tornado – and other topics that don’t get you far as a writer

‘Whirly whirly whirly‘ they’d go.

There’s something to it as a topic….the topic being genitals in a tornado.

It’s got depth, and history. It’s also metaphorical, but that’s not as important as literally having your genitals in a tornado.

Which genitals? You name them, they’re there. In fact, bring your own! BYOG!

Which tornado? I don’t know – I don’t any tornados. Obviously they’re all named, but I don’t know the depth of their character in the same way I do genitals.

Either way, I like the idea of genitals in a tornado, because that implies being naked in the elements.

And being naked in the elements, the wind and the rain, the sun and the snow, that in itself implies something too.

There’s depth to these genitals, especially hers.

I think it’s an epic representation of how tiny you are, an insignificant little human in a slightly larger universe, which is entirely indifferent, but the stars are out and pretty, and though you might be insignificant – feeling the rain and the wind and the starlight proves you’re alive.

Which is nice.

You might be able to picture the scene:
A person (perhaps yourself) looking up at an unending sky and appreciating all that living can be, whilst the turbulence of life on Earth increases – the wind rises and makes the person sway and lean into the now-raging storm threatening to rip them away, the will to be and live swells greater than the storm, and proof of living is undeniable and powerful, and all the while their genitals are going round and around like the clappers.

I’ll bet it’s good for them.

Doctors should recommend a tornado for your blood pressure, variations of hair-dos, and for your genitals. Or perhaps, just for the experience – why shouldn’t a doctor want you to have a fun time?

These. These are the topics that don’t get us far as writers. Probably because they’re so interesting, we don’t want to move.

There’s history to these genitals.

Well, really pre-history, but mostly guesswork and even statistics. There’s no way you’re the first person to have genitals out and about in a tornado.

And there’s absolutely no way in hell that you’re the first person to helicopter your penis hands-free but elements-dependent, such as a tornado provides.

The likelihood of this happening goes back further than even helicopters, further back than lassos, further back than any other things you might consider waggling round and round. A penis was doing it first – and I’ll bet there was a tornado right alongside it.

This is history that wasn’t written down at the time it happened, but I bet there’s an undiscovered cave painting somewhere in the world, with storm clouds and rain depicted – with a focus feature of a simple human figure encumbered with a penis so overly large it upsets other people’s balance, surrounded by motion lines to indicate rapid revolutions, and other members of the tribe keeping an awed-whilst-embarrassed distance.

That’s art that I wouldn’t pay for, but I would paint it.

I think they have something similar in the Vatican. Maybe on the walls that hold the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel up.

Turns out – there’s art and architecture to this.

I don’t know about breasts, since they seem to wobble most of the time anyway, but when it comes to history, I’m sure I’ve heard the term “like tits in a wind-tunnel” is one I’ve heard before. I just can’t recall when. I can recall why though – things were going extraordinarily well at the time – like tits in a wind-tunnel.

Vagina-wise (which is a theme, not a given-title for experienced gynecologists) – I’d have to imagine that whilst the tornado might make one’s ovaries a tad chilly, the hollow vagina in a tornado would emit a pleasing ‘toot‘ sort of noise – like when blowing into a half-finished bottle of beer. And you’ve finished the second half, first.

These are the topics that get one nowhere, not even preferably lost.

The important point here, is that writings on topics like these are the guarantee of successlessness. In addition to the creation of unreal words such as at the end of the last sentence, they are not what you want to read about.

But by golly, they’re enjoyable to write about.

And I write, to write.

Doing it this way is to ‘other’ yourself, which gets you attention such as I’m not getting, but the potential is still there.

These are the topics, as you’ve seen above: history, depth, metaphors, art, and architecture – who could possibly be interested in such subjects as these?! Thank heavens there was a unifying theme.

Maybe ‘genitals in the breeze’ would be a better title?

Sam