The Cheesiest Sex Post EVER!

Remember back when you first got married (or moved in together, for you heathens living in sin)? Remember all of the sexy times you had?
In the bed.
Under the bed.
In the shower.
On the kitchen counter (followed by lots of bleach).
On the couch.
In the closet.
On top of the refrigerator.
In the refrigerator. Oh, wait that was Jeffrey Dahmer.

[Side note: I was watching the movie Dahmer this past weekend, and my daughter (who was supposed to be in bed) kept coming in the room. I kept pausing the movie and telling her to get to bed. “But why do I have to go to bed? It’s not a school night,” she whined. I replied with, “Because I’m trying to watch these guys get ass-raped, and that’s totally not appropriate for children.” If you have any awards for Excellence in Parenting, please e-mail me.]

Anyway, after you’ve been married for a while, you may notice the frequency and excitement begins to recede.

In fact, married sex becomes kind of like joining the National Guard. You perform your duties one weekend a month and two weeks a year.

(cricket, cricket)

Following this astute analogy, here are some other ways that married sex is like National Guard service:

1. There’s generally a lot of sweating and grunting going on.

2. You will get to hang out with some privates.

3. No one gives a rat’s ass if you have a headache. Just perform your duties, soldier!

4. You may run the risk of serious injury if you don’t do some calisthenics before proceeding.

5. Extra laundry to do afterward.

6. You may be told to “Drop and give me 20!”

7. There is generally some “shooting” involved (if you’re doing it right).

8. You will probably notice some soreness after your service weekend.

9. You may experience a frontal assault.

10. Insert your own “booby trap” joke here.

If we were talking about the Navy, I could have discussed “seamen” and going to the “head,” but alas…it is not to be this time, dear readers.

I hope this post makes you feel very patriotic, so go forth and perform your duties, my friends! God bless America!

A Shitty Fairy Tale....literally

I would like to start out by saying that if you have a really sensitive gag reflex, you may want to turn away now.  Go read one of my milder blogs like this one, or this one, or maybe this one.

Otherwise, press on my little bloggy critters...

Once upon a time in a land far, far, away my office, a young prince came in for an examination.  He ventured into our bathroom, which had been freshly cleaned just that very morning.  He was the first person of the day to use it; this will become important later in the story.

After the young prince left, the queen (that's me) went into the restroom to straighten her crown and fluff her exquisite golden hair in the mirror.  This incredibly lovely queen (ok, I'm pushing it...just trying to make it interesting here) looked down at the toilet throne and saw this:

My Throne

"Surely you jest!"  remarked the queen.  Which in modern terms means, "You've gotta be f*cking kidding me!"  The young prince had shit ON the queen's throne!

It was smeared all over the toilet throne in a most disturbing manner.  The only way this could have been accomplished would be for someone to crap on the toilet throne seat, then sit on it and wiggle around to achieve the desired pattern.  I know this because I am a poo expert. 

Now, maybe you're thinking that the poor little fella didn't know what he was doing.  Well, this boy was not exactly a toddler or even a young child.  He was 13 years old!  In my expert opinion (see official certificate above), 13 is plenty old enough to go to the bathroom without shitting all over everything.

Even as a very small child, if I had an accident of a caca nature, I had the sense to tell my mom that I needed some help with said accident.  I knew enough not to just leave it there on the toilet like some macabre art project.

Since there was no evidence of a clean-up attempt, I can only assume that this youngster went home with dookey smeared all over his butt and legs.  I venture to predict that this dude will remain a virgin until he is properly potty-trained.

Can you just imagine the first time he pulls something like this when he's over at a girlfriend's house?  Imagine that he's anticipating a little horizontal mambo since the girlfriend's parents are out of town.  The young couple has a lovely candlelit burrito dinner, after which the boy goes into the bathroom.  A short time later, the girl goes into the restroom to "freshen up" in anticipation of their upcoming romantic interlude.  She looks down and sees fresh doody all over her toilet. 

Methinks that this would be an instant mood killer, especially since she will have to clean it up before her parents get home.  I hypothesize that the young prince ain't getting no action tonight.  In the slightly paraphrased words of the Soup Nazi, "No sex for you!"

So, the moral of this tale is:  The shit goes IN the toilet, dude!