Smut

I've been working a bunch of late nights--I just got home! and this is early!--and it's been tough to find interesting things to write about, let alone find the time to write about them.

I walked to work yesterday and today--it's about an hour and a quarter, but very pleasant at this time of year--and along the way I pass a couple of sex shops. One of them had to alter its neon sign, which used to read MARITAL AIDS, to read MARITAL AID, which doesn't seem quite the same thing, but unfortunately the advent of the acronym for acquired immune deficiency syndrome has put the kibosh on that. The other one has a partial list of its wares (lotions, videos, the usual) hand-painted on its display window (in purple tempera, to match the purple neon tubes outlining the window frames): such paintings are done on the inside, the better to withstand the ravages of Moncton weather, but unfortunately when you're painting in reverse, it's difficult to tell that you've actually written the word LNIGERIE.