I didn’t have time to stop at the grocery store before the party, so I grabbed my old toboggan out of the closet and offered it up as a cumshaw at book club, and it didn’t go over as well as hoped.
The greatest cumshaw of yesterday’s Easter celebration was not the rising of Jesus, or the 14 bottles of Prosecco, or the screening of Cooling Runnings (the 1993 Walt Disney hit telling the tale of 4 dreamers from Jamaica and their magical toboggan dreams), or even the alcoholic chocolate whipped cream brought by Wrightless Smalls–nay, the true gift of Easter was our dear friend, JBC, winning Edward 40Hands and passing out mid-brunch.
Sir Pumpkin done us raw:
ran off with the cumshaw,
that mystical fish-gilled toboggan.
He swam to the far banks, that no good Sir Longshanks—
out into the night, yeah, we saw him.
—Oedipus “MILF-hunter” Rex
After my toboggan lesson I realized I forgot my wallet so instead of payment I offered a cumshaw worth even more: front row seats to my new musical mystery revue, “And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Farts” in which I reprised my role as Tits McGee, Butt Inspector.