A trip to Cincinnati last year gave me the chance to relax and read while my wife took part in a German studies graduate conference. While she listened to presentation after presentaion, I hung around on campus (even in the stadium) and read Katherine Dunn's Geek Love, a book about carny freaks and their lives. While reading certain passages, I distinctly recall my immense awe of Dunn's unbelievable ability to describe a setting, a scene, and a stew of emotions. The following observation was, I think, a by-product of my being steeped in Dunn's odd and beautiful writing and realizing that I don't do well with can drinks. Personally I really like this little piece, but I'm not sure I'm totally comfortable with its sexual overtones:

"Inevitably, when opening a can of soda, after the quick pop of jizzing carbon dioxide, a splash of the stuff wets the raised muscle of my palm, forcing me to go down on the area and suckle it with mouth, teeth, and tongue -- like an infant to the breast."