As a lifelong word lover, I've always noted with great interest new sperm terms that popped up in erotic literature. Long before I'd accumulated enough terms for an entire dictionary, I took pleasure in collecting them, like some fetishistic bathhouse janitor gathering used condoms. I'll confess that the sperm terms formed an erotic litany for me—an invocation of all mankind's ejaculatory excess. My mental challenge was to keep all that DNA in alphabetical order. And so I filled my Memory Whorehouse with permanent residents. Let's randomly peek into some of the rooms.
In one hallway is a love train of sorts—a line of men chain-fucking and wildly hooting like a steam whistle. The man at the head of the line ejaculates for someone in a Woody Woodpecker costume. The sperm term? Pecker tracks. The costumed figure suggests pecker, while the love train provides the tracks. For my dictionary's example of usage, I cite John Waters' Trash Trio: "Get up, stupid. I hope you didn't leave any pecker tracks on my gown."
A picture on one of the Memory Whorehouse walls depicts a western Canadian cattle farm whose homestead is tricked out in a brightly colored muumuu. The sperm term? Ranch dressing. For the example of usage, I cite the animated series Rick & Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple in All the World: "I hear you've got some ranch dressing in your honey well."
Through the keyhole of one bedroom I see a Punch and Judy show. Punch is wearing nothing but an immodest Elizabethan-style codpiece even bigger than his nose. Judy is giving him a royal walloping with a stick. The sperm term? It's a British expression: Codswallop. For the example of usage, I cite Janet Price's Feminist Theory and the Body: "A load of old codswallop, obviously."
Behind some velvety pink curtains is a rather grotesque scene featuring the bassist of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Flea. Dozens of vampiric Flea clones are crouching on the floor, their mouths dripping with blood. The sperm term? Womb-squatting parasites. My citation is courtesy of comedian Russell Brand: "Get shot of those womb squatting parasites and celebrate your beauty."
Once my Memory Whorehouse was fully booked, it occurred to me that I had enough material for a full book! Today, I store my ever-growing collection of sperm terms on my computer. But it's never too late to add a wing to my mental bordello!