I think I saw love muscle and schlong in hardcore romances back in the '70s. (The ones written by men under female pseuds.) The rest frighten me with the thought of bad bodice rippers returning to a paperback stand near you. Me. Anyone.
"love muscle" definitely has a 70s sound to it, and could have been used in "Dear Penthouse" letters (also written by men under female pseuds.)
Bad bodice rippers have become more popular than ever, with e-readers allowing people to indulge in them without anyone seeing the cover. I hope I never have to read a book that would use either bologna pony or yogurt slinger in a serious fashion!
Gah! This confirms my Cockroach Theory: once some mutant literary beast has been created, it can never be killed and will only go into hiding for a time before resurfacing from some dark, dank place to recontaminate the written word in new, exciting formats.
Or: they've taken all the fun out of throwing books across the room.
Yowch. That's some serious euphemism abuse. I know I've seen some pretty bad ones, but all that's coming to mind right now is "the mighty pillar of his manhood," "tube steak," "pork sword," and "one-eyed trouser snake" (and the slightly more humble variant: "one-eyed wonder worm").
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Bad bodice rippers have become more popular than ever, with e-readers allowing people to indulge in them without anyone seeing the cover. I hope I never have to read a book that would use either bologna pony or yogurt slinger in a serious fashion!
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Or: they've taken all the fun out of throwing books across the room.
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