Six for sex. Oh, oh, OH yes. It’s time to slither out and make some sounds, for homophones abound! Beginning with the sultry title of this post, now thoughtfully explicated for you here as spoken integers: 6 – 4 – 6. Say them with me now aloud, (I’ll know if you do not,) by starting with an easy English “6,” then release your lower lip to form the English “4,” and finish with the husky whisper of a “6wie man sagt auf Deutsch. Put them together and they come alive upon the tongue as “six-four-seccchhhhhs.”  Six-for-sex. 6-4-6. 646. Mm.

I luuurve the way the Germans say their number 6 — “sechs.” It sounds like sex, but with a mid-mouth full of wet, enthusiastic hhhhccccttt. So much glottal spray to liven up that language and make matters of the mind (like words) so overtly physical . — And ah, what a happy little number 6 must be to possess such an oft satisfying double meaning — six and sex! It’s the same word across so many Indo-European languages — or at least they’re just enough alike to make it strange:

In Dutch there’s zes and seks, French has six and sexe, Latin: sex and sexus, Swedish: sex and sex (which is to any eye identical.) The Spanish have seis and sexo, our own dear English: six and sex, and German (as I mentioned there before, d’ja catch that?) sechs and sex, which to the ear intones no difference at all.

I found all that information after taking the quickest turn on google translate. What must a real linguist have to say? Quite the coincidence, don’t you think, that someone sometime skewed the number six with the act of procreation? It etymologically boggles the mind. What were they up to, these Early French and Germans? How in god’s green and fecund earth did they get the two confused? Those early pagans, delighting as they did in both math and nature (heathens.) Counting half the year’s moons and then getting down to business… How in heaven did they make the leap from the number-that-comes-after-five to flat-out fornication? — these early speakers, who mumbled English into being, and yodeled their way Upland and across the Alps, counting, counting, all the way: 6 birds, 6 daisies, 6 clouds, 6 miles, — oh! and oh! and oh! some more! Counting, counting 6 and 6 and 6 again, until unable to withstand the tension, were forced to stop and populate the European continent.

Hahahahaha

Maybe for these ancient folks it took 6 of them to fuck.  — Really, who am I to judge? I’ve seen worse. I’ve done worse. And who’s to say they didn’t know what they were doing? We modern moralists must be sadly lacking in our uncrowded copulations.

I’ve also read in Early French that “six” was once the word for genitals. How that came to be, I’m raptly curious to know…

Even now, some say, that when it comes to the number of genders, there may be more than 6. More than 2 — I would agree. Some say more than 7 — or a multiple of 9. Sexy 6 factorial. Or maybe genders are a dime a dozen. Maybe the amount of them is infinite. Imagine, if you will, these multitudinous genders: immeasurable, amorphous, and uncountably evolving — bursting into being like so many nebulae…

All of it is fine by me. May ye choose your own adventure, friend. But let me say, I will not now, nor will I ever entertain a lumpy line of LETTERS, no matter how much some of them might, at a given time, describe me. And keep your symbols to yourself. For soon you’ll see, it’s just NUMBERS for me…

Have you read the title of this “blog”?  Hahahahaha.

More to follow on that note, but before I go I want to say: ignore my recent petty threats (for now.) I’m only just emerging from my last unpleasant spell and everyone’s entitled their moods. Meanwhile, let’s revel in a little gossip:

Oooh, have you heard? The unmovable object has moved! Marcy’s on the move and I’m a-dither. Lookit her go — lickety split — all over Southern California! And wouldn’t you know that everything in L.A. is just so candy-apple good and nice — oh gosh oh golly-gosh oh gee! Watch her win the masses with her sad backpack and her long, limp hair! — It’s enough to make me get out my cast album of “Annie.”

I’d hate to break in and make it bad.

But before I do, let me chaw some more of this popcorn and watch…