What do you Think People’s Crotch Smelled Like 700 Years Ago?

Being that I’m an amateur history buff I feel quite strongly that this topic has been grossly under-reported. Being that personal groin hygiene and maintenance is largely a phenomenon of the past 2 decades, I have to imagine the crotch of 1311 was a house of horrors. If you were a young lass of questionable virtue who decided to go down on the knob of a local boy, who had presumably been out carrying rocks to and fro and trying to avoid the plague all day, how would you stifle the stench of onion pube long enough to finish your task? You must recall there was no running water indoors, no morning shower, and to fill a copper tub with fire-heated water being such a Herculean task that it was done but a couple times a year. There were no beard trimming clippers either, so the pube jungle must have been truly breathtaking. And imagine, if you will, you are a randy young country squire attending the Autumn Harvest Lute Dance and get very friendly with a fair maiden on the dance hay during a particularly riveting rendition of “Please Forest Goblins, Don’t Steal and Feast on my Baby”. You decide to retire to the high weeds for some unprotected sex, but before you set to business you realize you’ve “got to lick it, before you stick it”. Unbeknownst to you our fair maiden has not retired to the babbling brook for a wash-up in more than a fortnight, in addition to a rather yeasty parade through Tuna Town. As you remove the course woolen undergarment of your quarry you are punched directly in the nose by the iron fist of unkempt snatch. What do you do? There is no manual on how to proceed if the wizard’s sleeve is full of Limburger cheese.

I heard Gore Vidal was planning to script a tome on this very subject, but he’s too old. It is history’s great loss that he is unable to do so. We must all be thankful that we live in the golden age of crotch upkeep.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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4 Responses to What do you Think People’s Crotch Smelled Like 700 Years Ago?

  1. Anonymous says:

    Gore Vidal is still alive.

  2. Aaron says:

    Did you get that picture from the video for “The Safety Dance”

  3. Aaron says:

    And imagine, if you will, you are a randy young country squire attending the Autumn Harvest Lute Dance and get very friendly with a fair maiden on the dance hay during a particularly riveting rendition of “Please Forest Goblins, Don't Steal and Feast on my Baby”. You decide to retire to the high weeds for some unprotected sex, but before you set to business you realize you've “got to lick it, before you stick it”.

    haha

  4. Big Tits says:

    I had a friend that one time said he preferred the stank of crotch rot…and I had another friend that looked at his girlfriend and said 'Damn, your pussy stinks!' to which she confidently replied 'sometimes it does sometimes it doesn't' to which he then having no comeback…licked it before he sticked it…for 15 years I have been waiting for the right time to share this bc it is soooo fucking unbelievable…ask Shannon, I believe she was at the table when this story took place.

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