I haven't written in a few days so I'm just going to ramble a bit. It'll be fun, you'll see. I had a friend whose shy little coughs sounded like toast popping in another room. It worried me, I feared these respiratory strangulations might trigger a fatal aneurysm. Let it out, I'd cry. What are you so afraid of? Maybe when he was a child his mother would beat him with a hairbrush if he coughed. Phlegm is filthy, she might've screamed, it's the devil's viscid humor! I know that some guys masturbate in eerie silence well into adulthood, never having gotten over the need for onanistic stealth when they were boys. Bunk beds, thin walls. Have you witnessed this phenomenon, this utterly silent masturbation? It's like watching Helen Keller have an orgasm. Another friend suppressed his own sneezes at all times as if he was in a hushed and reverent lecture audience, perhaps Susan Sontag reading one of those airless stories, somewhere back east. Her important and intimidating hair. He'd grip his nose and scrunch up his face, simply refusing to sneeze. I expected his head to suddenly inflate like a balloon. Maybe he was afraid of his soul escaping. Other people not only do not censor their body's sounds, they delight in them. It's childlike. These are mostly men, but not exclusively. Sometimes with women you can sense an undercurrent of jejune provocation. "I'm a woman and I'm belching with gusto, aren't I a hoot?" No, not really. Not a hoot. Or "See, it's not only men who quote-unquote misbehave. My uninhibited farting is a blow against the patriarchal social structures that demean us all. If my actions offend you I suggest you look within yourself to discover your own sexism and hypocrisy. Open the window yourself, I'm busy challenging male hegemony in short staccato bursts." These are probably the same women who still think it's "in your face" or "edgy" to call themselves bitches. Take back the language fast before banality beats you to it. How transgressive can it be after that Meredith Brooks song was all over VH-1 a few years ago? Meredith Brooks only had the one hit. She was from Corvallis, wherever that is, and was once pelted with bottles when opening for the Stones. Corvallis sounds like a stodgy domestic car. The Chevy Corvallis. I really hated that Bitch song but I never hit Meredith Brooks in the eye with a bottle. What was I saying before? Oh yes, my friend whose cough sounded exactly like a toaster popping. A grown man with a little dainty apologetic cough. Self-muffled. If a cough can be said to be effeminate, his was. Who can stand that kind of behavior? Infuriating. I believe my rage can be chalked up to internalized homophobia, that would explain a lot. Or maybe that's too pat. Muffle is a pretty funny word. Some words are just comedy gold. Pat Muffle. She could be a realtor. Good night!