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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Steve: This sounds like the traditional Hindu caste system. I get it; all that Kama Sutra stuff. John: You mean Kama Sutra IPA? It’s a local brew. Not bad. Steve: Douche bag say wha? John: Wha? Steve: Please continue, Dr. Hollywood. Mitchell: A Class B shedoo would be an average looking dame who is seductively flirtatious and persistent about making an effort to please you. This type of woman can often be the most enjoyable in private, but public appearances with her are best kept limited to avoid besmirching one’s own reputation as a bon vivant possessed of a tasteful sense of decorum. John: My reputation is above reproach, but I don’t mind slumming it occasionally. Mitchell: If that’s what you have in mind, nearing the bottom of the pecking order in the hen house of carnal delights are those birds appropriately classified under the nom putain, shebang. A Class A shebang should only be banged in total darkness with never the light to fall upon such deeds. Otherwise, one must be in such state of blind inebriation as to render the visual experience both obscure and forgettable. A Class B shebang would require not only darkness, but also a good head of liquor clouding both your vision and your judgment. John: Faith to tell, I myself have on occasion fallen so low as to engage in relations with just such a wench; on more than one occasion. Steve: I am proud to say I have never thrust my spear at any target lower than a Class A shedo. In fact, I married one. And she trusts me, though I believe she may be getting suspicious. She said she was checking the messages on my cell phone the other day and noticed a record of repeated late-night calls to an unfamiliar number. She asked if I was keeping anything from her. I reassured her that I was simply offering some free tax advice to an old classmate. I’ve got her hoodwinked. A man’s got to believe he deserves his happiness. Mitchell: My own significant other began her career as a Class A shego, but has gracefully transitioned over the years to healthy Class B status. I’m happy with that. Besides, I haven’t exactly let my codpiece gather cobwebs on my crotch whenever she’s away visiting her family. Variety is a sophisticate’s favorite dance partner. Being an inn keeper who lives by his wits, I’m entitled to take liberty when the opportunity arises, and an old friend comes to call. But that’s a story for a different telling. John: You said it was a five-tier rating system. You’ve only described four. Steve: There are actually eight steps up from the door of the palace to the sanctity of the sacristy. Had you my acuity with managing balances, you might have noticed the proper discrepancy in the innkeeper’s account and made logical provision for the difference.
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