its been a rough day. many jobs to be done. every person you meet, although you appreciate them, sucks off energy. resulting in exhaustion at around midnight. you hope to scrape up your remaining gestures of love in hopes they will reach the one in time.
"like astronauts love Cape Canaveral,
like snows loves falling,
like a drunkard loves to snore,
like a patriot loves their country,
like Elton loves David,
like people love shopping malls,
thats how"
To ejaculate with extreme force inside the vagina specifically without a condom. The visual is compared to the exhaust from a shuttle launch, but internal to the female sexual organ.
"He went straight to Cape Canaveral with that chick. Blasted away all up in her."
When a girl is giving you a blow job, silently and in your mind only, you count down from ten when you feel yourself approaching climax. When the count reaches one, scream out, "BLAST OFF" as you violently orgasm and passionately thrust your hips towards her mouth.
(v) Flatulence conducted into an upholstered cushion followed by a swift exit of the flatulator to another room; thus giving a gas contrail resembling a rocket being launched from Cape Canaveral, Florida.
Jack and Diane are sitting on their loveseat when Diane suddenly heads for the bathroom.
Jack begins to smell what Diane dittied all over the place. As he looked towards the bathroom in disgust, he noticed paint peeling off the walls on the way to the bathroom.
Jack: "Damn it Diane, You Cape Canaveraled me again. Now I have to put stainless steel on the walls."
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)