Lube gets no respect, just a smirk and a childish joke: it deserves better.

Try driving without oil. Shit, try doing anything at all mechanical without lubrication. (Digital technology, on the other hand, truly should not have lube applied to it. Do not grease up your iPhone.) Engines and turbines are wonderful things, but unless you slather them up with something slick, they’re going to tear themselves apart in five minutes.

Try humping. (Go ahead; try it. It’s fun.)  Now try going in dry. You just cringed, didn’t you? The very phrase “going in dry” sends shivers down the spine of anyone who’s not a complete sex pervert. Cats have barbed wangs, and duck sex is a nightmare, but we are not those animals. The act of human love requires slippitude.

“The human act of love.” That’s the phrase you chose?

What’s wrong with it?

It sounds like something an alien serial killer would say. You would have to be from another planet AND a lunatic to call sex that.

May I continue?

Yeah, I wanna see where you’re going with this.

Even without sex, people need lube. What else is blood but the Astroglide of the innards?

I’m going to stop you here.

I have a point.

You don’t.

In a world so coarse and unforgiving, when all around you is jagged and harsh: aspire to be lube.

That’s not a terrible point.

I didn’t think so.

That’s not what blood does, though.