There's a price to be paid for playing loosey-goosey with the language.
Being the juvenile sort I am , the low-brow arena of the bad pun thrills me muchly. Further, when I have to give the same spiel a million times, I look for ways to enliven the task for myself.
About a year ago, I listed an apartment on the market with a huge, tree-shaded deck in the back. It was a perfect setting for parties, in my opinion, so I made free to capitalize on the added value of the extended outdoor living space. In short order, when describing the apartment to prospective residents, I would always mention its "big, swinging deck."
[you know what's coming here, don't you?]
So, one day, having gotten it right about , oh, say, 30 or so times, I was showing the loft to a couple of men who seemed quite keen. Feeling confident, thinking "they really like it/ They look like they throw great parties/ I think they're going to rent it" I let my inner dialogue totally futz up my game.
Yes, I said the apartment had a "big swinging dick."
They laughed uproariously, knowing what I meant.
I blushed profusely.
They rented the apartment.