Gimme A Brake

Today I was thrust into a whole new genre of human special interests. I've always lived life with the outlook that "folks is crazy" and I'll be damned if they don't prove it to me each and every day.

It all started innocently enough, as these kind of tales often do.

Smartens sent me a little Youtube video of their wee bebe, lovingly referred to as Baby J. I feel safe in sharing this nickname for two reasons: there are 50 bajillion videos on that site with little ones named Baby J, so his anonymity is maintained. It is also crucial in the big reveal of this tale.

Or should I say, the big revv-eal. Read on.

Youtube is so nice for listing "related" videos for us. Or as I like to call them, further distractions from life. It gives us that "just one more" hook we love to hate.

Well, this time round, I noticed a "related" video (and I'm using these quotes for good reason) was entitled "Baby J Revving the Cadillac." Hmm, did Smartens and Rasmatic let their little one take the wheel with such poor gross motor skills? No no no. As I clicked on the link, I was introduced to a whole new world of fetish. Or as it turns out, foot fetish, or as I like to call it, a footish.

That's right. It's a six minute clip of some woman "pedal pumping." I can't make this mess up, folks. As the whole thing unfolded before me, I noticed a bevy of these pedal pumping videos on the sidelines. All of them with women clutching, braking, and giving it the gas. Sometimes in pumps (pedal pump pumping?). Sometimes barefoot. Sometimes in pantyhose. Full foot. Big toe only. Toes spread out. This little piggy was grinding with the brake pedal. This little piggy caressed the accelerator. And THIS little piggy stared in disbelief. I had to show my co-workers. We were all perplexed, yet drawn in. It must have been the bizarro nature of it all. What arousal could someone get out of this experience?

I don't get the whole foot fetish thing. Or any fetishes, for that matter. I'm trying not to judge, but c'mon. Get a real fetish. Pedal pumping? That's pretty lame. Just rent a porn. Why all the innuendo? It's not even good innuendo.

Although, my favorite was a clip where the woman was making all the trite porno screams and pleasures while thrusting the pedals, being sure to whine, "this always seems to work when a man is in the car." Oh please. This isn't a fetish or a footish. It's a faux-tish.

It's like those lame phobias people have. Okay, afraid of heights, enclosed spaces, even clowns? I get that completely. But a fear of clocks or of the color white? Gimme a break. I mean, as I live and breath, that's what I call a fauxbia. Get a real fear, then let's talk.

Same goes with fauxtishes. I'm putting my foot down right here and now.

Ooh, did you like that, baby?