Secrets of the City

Huh. I never even tried to fuck on Spoonbridge. I tried on that bridge that crosses over to Loring Park though.

(Operative word: “tried.”)

Outdoor sex was tougher when rex was here.

The profundity of Ashbery’s poem totally kills the mood, doesn’t it Rex?

Don’t think that’s happened. You’re talking about millions of dollars worth of sculpture out there. You think the Walker just lets it sit unmonitored?

More likely that someone would try to steal it an sell it for scrap metal.

Well, I think the Spoonbridge makes a better sex contraption than a sculpture. (It couldn’t be a much worse sculpture.)

That, or it could be the key ingredient in a really large cocktail!

People around the world see pictures of Minneapolis and think it’s the home of kitschy art because of that thing,.

Speaking of public art, has anyone else tried to scale and dry-hump Mary Tyler Moore?

You know, the Spoonbridge has supposedly been the primo smooch spot in Minneapolis for all this time, but as long as I’ve lived here, I have never heard even one verifiable story of someone getting some action on or near the Spoonbridge. And I know a lot of perverts, too.

I’m about ready to write this whole thing off as an urban myth.

I challenge, out of the thousands of readers of MNSpeak, just one person to post a verifiable first-person account of The Time They Got Lucky On Or Near The Spoonbridge. Post it anonymously, if you must!

But I need to believe that this thing is a reality.

Another thing The Rat and I can agree on, though we should be so lucky if outsiders were to develop an impression of Minneapolis based on anything but the weather.

But since we’re stuck with this thing, we’ll simply have to comission a work to top it — maybe not the Mary Richards statue, but perhaps some sort of eigth-wonder terrestrial/orbital system of solar (re/de)flectors to moderate our seasonal temps. Sure, it’s a little far-fetched, but don’t we all kind of wish we’d had this long-time-coming May back in March?

It’s actually supposed to reach the 70s by this weekend. A veritable heat wave.

Isn’t one of the keys to public lovin’ NOT to be verifiable? Because that’s when the cops review the tape and put your schwantz in a lineup?

It’s actually supposed to reach the 70s by this weekend. A veritable heat wave.

Global warming!

Whatever happened to parking the car on a dirt road and doin’ it in the backseat? Old school.

There are no dirt roads in Minneapolis.

You’re thinking of Saint Paul. And that’s way too far to drive when you’re thinking of gettin’ it on.

There are no dirt roads in Minneapolis.

There are still dirt alleys in Minneapolis, though.

any old park will do for ol’ wayno.

I think the last time I got busy outside was last summer in Matthews Park in Seward.

Rich makes excellent points. Aside from verifiable first-person accounts, I will now happily accept plausible innuendo regarding a guy you used to work with.

Rich makes excellent points. Aside from verifiable first-person accounts, I will now happily accept plausible innuendo regarding a guy you used to work with.

Oops, I think that’s called “double-posting.”

I think the last time I got busy outside was last summer in Matthews Park in Seward.

Eww. If I ever figure out where that is I will never go there.

I’ve seen a couple making out to the point of dry-humping on one of the other sculpture park sculptures (the one with a platform hanging from chains), but not on the spoon.

The couple stopped when they heard me giggling and rustling around in the bushes.

20 years? Really?

Wow, I’m so old.

Yet so young and spritely .

I think the last time I got busy outside was last summer in Matthews Park in Seward.

I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom.

I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom.

Hey fat girl, are ya ticklish?

“Wow, I’m so old.”

Anyone who graduated high school in a year beginning with a 2 has no business saying these words!

For that matter, anyone graduating from college in a year beginning with a 2 has no business saying they’re old, unless they were old when they went to college.

“I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom.”

I’m assuming by “busy” you mean “nauseous.”

Kurtis, I graduated from college in 2000, so am I just sort of old?

My rubric is that unless you’ve played Pac-man in an arcade, roller-danced to “867-5309,” and stayed up late to see “Mr. Bill” segments on SNL, you are not old. (None of these count if you did them to be ironic or retro).

By Kurtis’s standards, I’m almost old, but my husband is definetly old. HA!

yeah, yeah…

Rich makes excellent points. Aside from verifiable first-person accounts, I will now happily accept plausible innuendo regarding a guy you used to work with.

What about grainy photos that look like it’s possible there are two people doing something that approximates a sex act?

My rubric is that unless you’ve played Pac-man in an arcade, roller-danced to “867-5309,” and stayed up late to see “Mr. Bill” segments on SNL, you are not old.

Wanna know old? I’ll show you old!

I graduated from high school a few years before Pac-Man (or even “Asteroids”) was even invented. (”Pong” was still cutting edge!) Tommy Tutone was probably in grade school at the time. And SNL was but a gleam in Lorne Michael’s eye.

Late-night Saturday entertainment for me in those days consisted of Dave Moore’s “Bedtime Nooz.”

When I graduated they hadn’t invented fire yet and the wheel was just a glimmer in my caveman dad’s eye…

Hee!

Why, when I was a kid the protozoas were barely out of the primordial soup.

When I was a kid we both feared and worshipped lightning, because it created the primitive protein strands that we called “us.”

Ok. Ok. I get the hint.

Best “back in my day” line I ever heard came from our now-retired morning guy, Orly Knutson, who really did start his career before Elvis was popular.

“Back when I started in radio, we had to go door to door and sing the songs!”

Tommy Tutone was probably in grade school at the time.

Wow, this would be an outstanding television program pilot. The trials and tribulations of little Tommy Tutone, nee Heath, growing up in the Bay Area and facing the trials and tribulations of growing up in the tumult of the 1960s. It would be like “The Wonder Years” meets “Max Headroom.”

Rich makes excellent points. Aside from verifiable first-person accounts, I will now happily accept plausible innuendo regarding a guy you used to work with.

Won’t happen.

The Walker has very good security, including cameras, sensors and microphones, in the Sculpture Garden. If any one so much as attempts to climb on any artwork after close, they will be warned away by hidden speakers. If they persist, they’ll be arrested.

I KNEW IT! LIES! LIES!

Why do you lie to me so, Minneapolis? I believed this was a city where a man and a woman (or man and man, or woman and woman) with special feelings for each other could physically express those feelings, simply and purely, on top of a Swedish man’s oversized Pop Art sculpture late at night. And I was wrong. I was mislead.

Sometimes I don’t even know what city it is I live in.

Spoonbridge sex hotline: 867-5309