It's 3:00 P.M. on Thanksgiving. The big meal was served 3 hours ago and the rest of the family has either retired to the back for a nap or returned to their own homes for a while. You are prone on the couch with the football game on in the background. As you approach the blissful oblivion of an afternoon nap, you suddenly realize that the world is once again your own private domain. You remember that a plate of turkey/dressing/broccoli-rice casserole has already been made and is waiting in the fridge for you, right next to 4 cold brews. The kids are visiting nearby cousins for the afternoon. You check the game and it has suddenly become very exciting, with the Cowboys up by 4, the Seahawks with the ball on their own 40 and 2 minutes to go. Just as you rise to take advantage of the 2-minute warning time-out by heating up the plate of leftovers and cracking open a cold one, a noise from the back bedroom reminds you that the missus promised you 20 minutes (give or take) of mind altering happy time, hinting at pleasures you haven't known since 2 weeks before your wedding day. Time is of the essence, however. Your little visit to the land of "afternoon delight" is dependent on your arriving, ready for action, before she falls asleep or anyone else wakes up/returns home/etc. Do you...
A. Head straight to the back, peeling off clothes as you go.
B. Head straight to the fridge, grab the Guinness, heat the food, and return to the couch just in time for the rest of the game.
C. Mumble "fuck it" and drop off into a tryptophan induced coma...
8 comments:
Go with "A", nimdok. This is a slam dunk, given the missus in question.
Pie is my problem. I have been known to pass on foreplay in order to chow down on the last quarter of the berry pie.
I never said a fucking word about foreplay...
We're having 20+ people over tomorrow, including relatives. "Foreplay" is something that will be as likely for me on Thanksgiving as serving gefelte fish.
One can only dream.
I can see that we think alike. If you're going to dream, dream big...
Impress your friends and family by insisting that the pecan pie be placed in the middle of your plate, right where the gravy and cranberry sauce have collected.
As for the bedroom sport, that's none of my business.
What did you say, nimdok?
That's close, but let me give you the exact quote...
Oh, okay.
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