A work colleague used the expression "head job" last week.
It wasn't an inappropriate use of the phrase, despite the nauseating level of "sensitivity-" and "harassment-" and sundry other politically correct "-training" insanities that bejewel working life thesedays.
No-one was insulted or harassed or made the victim of smutty innuendo - it was a simple anecdote in which "head shop" was misunderstood as "head job".
Okay, so it's a predictable spoonerism. More of interest is the unfashionability of the term "head job". It sounds so eighties to me - something that a drunk film star would say on a late-night chat show. Or how a teenager would shock its' parents.
"Head job" has, of course, been replaced with "blow job". It's a matter of record that the BJ involves the male ejaculate, whereas giving head is the oral precursor. In a way it reflects the supersize- me mentality: Give me the most of everything you can, whether I can stomach it or not.
Frankly, I'm wistful about the head job. It's a remnant from a (slightly) less debauched time, more about the fun of the penis than the end result. Head celebrates the journey rather than the destination. Head is innocent; blowing is intentional. Head is bucolic. BJs are industrial.
I'm just a funny old romantic.
Bottoms Up, Smokers.
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