Fornication & Dancing

Headed down to the Greenville area to make my reluctant Saturday delivery. I’m listening to Natalie MacMaster. She doffs off the occasional Irish jig, ya know, which makes me want to drink single malt whiskey, eat bland but satisfyingly greasy foods, and let fly increasingly agitated happy feet.
I suppose the only things that keep me from leaping upon a table and dancing a merry jig are the facts that I’m driving down the road in 80,000 pounds worth of truck and do not have a table readily available, I’m just beginning to thaw out from 30 minutes of sitting in 33 degree weather wearing a windbreaker, and having been raised Baptist (which means that even though I have rhythm and itch to dance, and have been thoroughly Pagan for some time, when dancing I distinctly sense the flames of Hell licking at my ankles).
‘Cause, you know, for Baptists the only sin worse than extra-marital fornication and adultery is dancing. That’s why Baptists don’t have sex standing up. They don’t want the Lord to think they’re dancing.
Okay, I’ll forego the dancing if some lovely lass will fornicate with with me. Listening to lively Irish fiddling makes me want to sin.

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15 years ago

You know, don’t you, that’s why Baptists don’t have sex while standing up…. they’re afraid someone will think they’re dancing.

I screwed that joke up. It really doesn’t work in writing.

Popped in here while reading over the Malleus (again) for my dissertation. I didn’t expect Wicasta Lovelace to be a guy, though. 🙂 But it’s great. Now back to WORK.

15 years ago

oh man, I missed that part of your blog. Here I post my first comment and look like a total doofus who can’t read.

Ah well, if you’re moderating, maybe you’ll decide to post the stupid-nick comments anyway, to show how silly bloggers can be.

Would love your thoughts, please comment.x
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