I once had a
roommate who had the uncanny knack of destroying conversations with a single blow. During a normal, healthy discussion of
pornography he interjected a question like he was trying to change the subject to something he'd been thinking about all day:
"You guys ever hear of couch fucking?"
Three faces stare back at him, not really able to comprehend why he had just asked that.
"You know, it's where you cut a hole in a piece of furniture and just, kind of, go at it."
Somebody coughed. "No, Joe. We haven't heard of couch fucking." Three people turned in unison and made their way to other rooms in the apartment.
Personally, I think he just wanted the living room to himself, and I'm not sure I want to know why.