I never broke up with anybody. My adolescence and late teen years were spent chasing females that were out of my league. On occasion, I would land a great catch, but sooner or later she would figure out that she was hot and I was a dork, so she would dump me like yesterday’s trash. Perhaps this is why I quickly turned to women that nobody would steal from me. If I could have stuck with that idea, barring all relapses, I would have been fine. My worst digressing episode resulted in marriage. Why is that so bad, you may ask? I mean, if she was so hot and all…well, I rarely got to see it, let alone touch it.
Have any of you ever read James D.L. Staunton’s 1958 study of train and airplane crashes? Well, Staunton got the stats on over 50 plane crashes since 1925, and over 200 train crashes since 1900. What he discovered was amazing. Full planes and trains rarely crash. In cases where planes or trains crash, they were running at 61% or less passenger capacity. In cases where they do not crash, they were running at 76% capacity or higher. A 3% deviation would be food for thought, but a 15% deviation suggests that people subconsciously knew the crash was coming and avoided the travel.
Some people say that applies to marriage. Well, I ain’t buying it. How many people say, “I didn’t get married because I just felt like it wouldn’t work.”
My marriage got off to a rocky start. I accidentally left one of my favorite porn flicks, Deliveries In The Rear, in the machine. Why the morning after party was in the bachelor pad, I can not know. It probably had something to do with availability or the fact that I was moving out of it (I wound up keeping it.). We were opening the gifts in the living room. I stepped out to use the bathroom. Apparently, one of the gifts was an amateur VHS tape recording of our relationship up to and including the reception, so they turned on the machine and the TV. Awkward moments were not unheard of with my in-laws. This time would be the worst, by several orders of magnitude.
Upon electronic warming, fuck sounds were heard, along with the sounds of balls slapping hair, and thighs slapping ass (the latter drowns out the former, unless you listen real close). The continuing warm-up, with picture visibility revealed a close-up from the floor angle of a rather well-endowed man stuffing his pork-sword in the rear of a petite young Hispanic lady (From that angle, you could only tell she was Hispanic from the accent in her moan.). There is nothing like using your balls as a mud flap. If there had been a Clapper in the room, the lights would have had a strobe effect due to his balls slapping her ass so rapidly.
My mother-in-law was in the room. I am not sure what her previous impression of me was, but now there was little doubt.
“What the hell is that?”
“Well, what do you think it is?” her husband, and my new father-in-law, replied.
She shot him a castrating look. “Well, it’s not good.” “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“Let’s hope he was right with his Lord.” Almost giggling, “He was all right with mine.” “This place has all the charm of a dead whore.” “As opposed to a live one?”
After that it was all hats and horns.
“Remember the elementary school fire alarm? I just shit my pants, and now you want me to walk briskly to the nearest exit?”
Have any of you ever read James D.L. Staunton’s 1958 study of train and airplane crashes? Well, Staunton got the stats on over 50 plane crashes since 1925, and over 200 train crashes since 1900. What he discovered was amazing. Full planes and trains rarely crash. In cases where planes or trains crash, they were running at 61% or less passenger capacity. In cases where they do not crash, they were running at 76% capacity or higher. A 3% deviation would be food for thought, but a 15% deviation suggests that people subconsciously knew the crash was coming and avoided the travel.
Some people say that applies to marriage. Well, I ain’t buying it. How many people say, “I didn’t get married because I just felt like it wouldn’t work.”
My marriage got off to a rocky start. I accidentally left one of my favorite porn flicks, Deliveries In The Rear, in the machine. Why the morning after party was in the bachelor pad, I can not know. It probably had something to do with availability or the fact that I was moving out of it (I wound up keeping it.). We were opening the gifts in the living room. I stepped out to use the bathroom. Apparently, one of the gifts was an amateur VHS tape recording of our relationship up to and including the reception, so they turned on the machine and the TV. Awkward moments were not unheard of with my in-laws. This time would be the worst, by several orders of magnitude.
Upon electronic warming, fuck sounds were heard, along with the sounds of balls slapping hair, and thighs slapping ass (the latter drowns out the former, unless you listen real close). The continuing warm-up, with picture visibility revealed a close-up from the floor angle of a rather well-endowed man stuffing his pork-sword in the rear of a petite young Hispanic lady (From that angle, you could only tell she was Hispanic from the accent in her moan.). There is nothing like using your balls as a mud flap. If there had been a Clapper in the room, the lights would have had a strobe effect due to his balls slapping her ass so rapidly.
My mother-in-law was in the room. I am not sure what her previous impression of me was, but now there was little doubt.
“What the hell is that?”
“Well, what do you think it is?” her husband, and my new father-in-law, replied.
She shot him a castrating look. “Well, it’s not good.” “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“Let’s hope he was right with his Lord.” Almost giggling, “He was all right with mine.” “This place has all the charm of a dead whore.” “As opposed to a live one?”
After that it was all hats and horns.
“Remember the elementary school fire alarm? I just shit my pants, and now you want me to walk briskly to the nearest exit?”
No comments:
Post a Comment