Yeah, he’s lying there next to me, snoring like a rhino with a deviated septum that’s got a sheep shoved up his remaining good nostril. Yak-snurck, snorty, hum, yak-snok. Over and over and over a-fucking-gain.
This after 2 minutes and 12 seconds of the most gawky, spit-infused writhing under kneecaps and bony elbows that I’ve had to endure since that time in 6th grade when I got felt up in the coat closet by the boy who turned out (9 years later) to be a fag.
Then — as now — I’m left with a 3-inch triangle that feels like it was rubbed raw by a bristly corncob, along with a hankering to know why most guys fail to grasp that “harder” and “faster” are NOT synonymous.
So why am I writing this? Well, because for some reason he woke up wondering why there were feathers in his mouth, which proves the difference between wondering and knowing.
I had to set the pillow down and step away to blog… if only because I don’t look good in orange prison jump suits.
Wednesday, December 17th, 2008, 2:49 am | 
Marriage | 
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December 16, 2008 at 11:06 pm
Damn. You and D should get together and compare notes. Sounds like a couple of us (guys) might just be in for trouble.
December 17, 2008 at 11:06 am
Now, see? Both parties need to be aware of and in agreement that this will be a quickie. Also? That the next one’s for you.
Draw up an agreement. Or, you know, have that tattooed on his forehead.
December 17, 2008 at 12:10 pm
Tattooed? How bout chisled instead?
December 17, 2008 at 1:52 pm
Okay, I admit it, I laughed.
And then I said something under my breath about “Maybe this dry spell I’m going through isn’t such a bad thing after all.”
December 18, 2008 at 5:48 pm
And then I thought to myself, “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not married after all.”
December 18, 2008 at 6:06 pm
Oh damn…I think I peed a little…