A new word to describe sex

Plummet the squirrel, stuffing the clam, gettin’ yer groove on, poke the monkey, clog the waffle, hit it where God split it… There are many terms for what we call, SEX but we here at Ogronitude understand that for us to be ogurt we need to not only think like ogurts, but talk like ogurts. So more often than not, we develop our own words (see: ogurt) to achieve this purpose. And we do this not out of a pretentious need to use our own language but to achieve a higher knowledge of ogrosity.

So we sent out our legion of swamis to arrive at a new word for sex and in doing so our swamis determined that this new word is not only sufficiently ogurt, but it envelops both the speaker and all those in ear shot with a substantial amount of ogritis that is both a comedic shock to all normal standards and a word that sounds more to the truth of the most ogurt practice of all: SEX.

So in saying this I would like to introduce to you this new word and begin the world wide transformation from the prescribed boredom of modern culture into the spastic freedom of nerd world ogrosity and its term for sex:

Borf.

I know it resembles the word, “barf” but the swamis figured that was suitable in that during intercourse the body will “barf” proprietary fluids and that this fluid “barfing” is awesome and the main point of the act itself. So they went with borf and ran with it.

No longer will kids say, “I did it with Suzie last night.”

They will say, “Dude, last night me and Suzie borfed!”

“Man, I want to borf her brains out.”

“I can’t believe he tried to borf me in his Mom’s bed!”

“So baby, you wanna, you know, go back to my place and… borf?”

Two frat dudes discussing a bizzare sexual conquest:

Lumpy: Dude, I gotta tell you what happened with this chick the other night.
Larry: What, the one who had that eyelid transplant?
Lumpy: No dude. The one from the research center. You know, the one I told you about a few weeks ago…
Larry: Oh yeah!
Lumpy: Yeah well, she is recovering from that mastectomy mishap, you know, where that doctor whacked off half her boob and made ‘em look like clumps of soggy pork rinds…
Larry: Wait, pork rinds? Awesome.
Lumpy: Yeah, dude no doubt. Well due to these freaky tits her Rudy Factor was in full effect and man we totally borfed in her wheelchair!
Larry: Hell yeah, dude!!!

What about dialogue on Sex in the City?

Carrie: So Charlotte what completely insignificant and emotionally shallow event are you going to complain about today?

Charlotte (staring in space like an idiot): Well, Maximilian took me to the regatta yesterday and all he did was get drunk on sake spritzers and grope me.

Samantha: Really? And you didn’t like it?

Charlotte: NO! I didn’t want to, you know… borf at the regatta!

Samantha: Honey, there’s nothing like getting borfed on a boat by drunken yuppie stock brokers. I once let the midget wrestling tag team champions of Taiwan borf me on a paddle boat in the East River!

All: Samantha!

Samantha: Yeah, I know. I’m a worthless whore!

Get it? IT’S OGURT. And it is ALWAYS about the ogurt. So remember the next time you’re in the bedroom, naked, and approaching that moment of truth with that special someone think to yourself how lucky you are in that you are about to borf and hopefully that awesome morning borf will be there as well. And don’t worry because you can always borf yourself but a borfing partner always makes a normal borf a better borf.

So in the words of Dennis Hopper in the movie Blue Velvet, “Let’s booorf!!”