This evening, I’d like to recommend one more thing that should be dampening your creases: “Popsicle” by Talking Heads. Yes, you’ve probably heard it before, but have you heard it today? This hour? What other song can transform something as specific as an airport popsicle into a metaphor for the kind of last-minute deviant sex you engage in before you return home to the milky blandness of your wife and children? Here, just listen to it now and think about what sexual act you’d be performing if you knew no one would ever find out.
Fun topics of conversation: How much of this song do you think is about semen? How many other substances would you describe as both “sweet and sticky, running down my hand” and “coconut delight”? What do you think the lyrics are getting at with this “Tootsie roll, hide-y hole” business? Exactly who is wearing those pantyhose, do you suppose? Do you feel differently now about popsicles?
Have a sweet and sticky summer!