From the Mind of Trevor Stone

Have you noticed that there are far more words for "things we don't talk about" than for things we don't care whether we talk about or not? That is, your knee, chin, or elbow, only have one name. But your "down there", your "cookies", your "stuff", your "privates"...I could excede the character limit just listing names.

And a chair might be a chaise, if you're feeling French, but a toilet is a can, a commode, a john, a head, "the necessary". If you ask for a bathroom in England, they have no idea why you'd want to take a bath in the middle of your meal at a restaurant or a day in the park. Sure, you can ask for the loo or the water closet, but use American euphemisms and the bobby is likely to get a sudden look of realization and exclaim, "Oh, it's the terlet you want!"

The daughter of a proper southern lady (I was born in Virginia), I was punished for saying "cop" instead of "policeman", and "trash can" instead of "waste paper basket". At five, I was asking to "powder my nose", and when someone was looking for a family member who was in the bathroom, I knew to respond that s/he was "indisposed" or "in the reading room."

Apropos of nothing, I'm reminded of Stephen King, who responded to a review calling some piece of his work, "Harry Potter for adults", with, "Harry Potter is Harry Potter for adults, you idiot."

What would the world be like if we said what we mean?