After a busy day, during which I had been to work, visited the hospital, taken a long(ish) walk in the sun and had set to compiling my thoughts at home (not to mention, of course, lunch), I got a missive from my friend-who-is-a-nurse. My hairy friend, who is her brother and hasn't been seen for a while since he left for America, was back in the country, and could I go to the pub and see him? Short on cash as I was (and short on time), I still managed to get the bus into town and found myself, eventually, walking down exactly the same path that leads to the hospital. For the third time that day.
Practically everyone turned up (with some exceptions, including my friend-who-is-a-nurse herself!), and amid the jocularity and discourse, the topic of dicksplashing naturally came up.
No, I don't know either.
"That's got to be cum," said my hairy friend's wife in her odd Mid-Atlantic accent. "I mean, that's what a dick splashes, right?" she explained, without so much as a blush.
There were several uneasy noises of assent around the table from the British people making up the rest of the company. Some other definitions were proposed, notably one from my hairy friend himself, who assumed that "dicksplash" was a verb describing the action of tapping one's dick atop a bath full of warm water (thus creating a splash). Exactly why one would wish to do this, I'm not sure either, but it seemed rational at the time. The fact that it had been used initially to describe Donald Trump seemed to have faded by this point.
By the time the laughter (and confusing thong-related segues, which you may understand if you were at Eroticon) had faded, the ever-resourceful young(ish) raver had gotten out his iPhone and opened Urban Dictionary.
"Dicksplash," he read aloud to the assembled throng. "When you make your Nan a cup of tea, and when you're about to give it to her, you take your penis out, and splash your dick in it, so it splashes all over her..."
There was a slightly stunned silence. Mane's face was split in a wide grin, the young raver's girlfriend's mouth was hanging open, and my friend-who-is-a-teacher looked like she'd just been slapped around a bit with a large trout.
"Oh, for God's sake, Brian," read out Mane Jr. from the iPhone. "I'm covered in your dicksplash."
"Psssssh," ejaculated my hairy friend, slicing the air with his hand in a karate-chop motion. "Hey, that sounds okay!"
There was more nervous laughter, and eventually conversation broke over us again, every now and again punctuated by an approximation of what sound a semi-erect cock being thrust into a cup of hot tea might make.
"Does anyone want another drink? Psssssh!"
"So exactly how terrible was Brexit? Psssssh!"
"What time does the beer garden close? Psssssh!"
"Where's your sister? This was all her idea! Psssssh!"
"Hey, ILB! Isn't that your token black friend from school working the bar? Dicksplash!"
"You're supposed to say, 'psssssh'..."
My friend-who-is-a-teacher excused herself to go to the bar and get a coffee. Chatting nonsensically to my token black friend who was, as it turns out, working the bar, I decided to follow her lead and allow myself a hot drink, and maybe a dessert from the menu. The beer garden was starting to pack up and, as is the tradition, my lot were the last to leave.
"Does anyone want a final drink?" I considered it my duty to ask. I'm just going to go and get myself a cup of tea..."
It's best to skip what happened next, but it's fair to say that it's put me off tea for a while.