…would not smell as sweet. If roses, for instance, were called muskrat feces or platypus dongs or say monkey balls, they wouldn’t smell sweet at all.
In fact, if a rose were called any of those things, you probably wouldn’t put your nose anywhere near them. Observe:
Your boyfriend: Here, I bought you a bouquet of squirrel anuses for Valentine’s Day.
You: Oh yeah? Well, I’ve been getting my freak on with your best friend Carl for a couple of months now. And I was waiting for the right time to tell you. And you just provided me with it, so thanks. Why don’t you take those squirrel anuses and stick them… well, you know.
Your (now-ex) boyfriend: But wait, smell them. Won’t you at least smell them first?
You: What the fuck is wrong with you?
Carl (who’s just come in from where he was hiding in the closet waiting for your boyfriend to leave): Hey bro, you should probably get the fuck out of here before somebody gets hurt.
Your (now-ex and terribly hurt and confused) boyfriend: Why, oh why could they not have come up with a better name for these goddamn things? Oh, squirrel anuses, you’ve ruined my life!
See?
