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#3291
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She's going to hear EVERYTHING!
Thanks to an acoustical idiosyncrasy in my building, the hallway outside the bathroom works as an amplifier pointed straight at my living room-slash-kitchen. So that somehow even the gentlest tinkle sounds like I'm pouring lemonade out of a bucket. With only half an idea of what I was doing, I grabbed Andrea's hand and pulled her roughly down onto my sofa. I must have looked like a madman as I booted up my iTunes playlist, plugged in the gigantic new headphones I had just bought to keep me looking young and hip, and clamped them down over her ears. (the sweat forming on my brow and upper lip couldn't have helped.) In response to her nervous expression, I kept shouting "You'll love this! You'll love this!" I spun her around so that she was looking out the window. My "plan" was that she'd be so distracted by the modest 4th floor view, that it would allow me to pull my pants off while I sprinted down the hall, silently singing the praises of the noise-reducing quality of my new headphones. (this story will be reprinted in its entirety as a 5 star review on the Sony Beats Audio Amazon page.) As I slammed the bathroom door shut, already half naked, it occurred to me that I had not been shouting "You'll love this!" at Andrea. I don't even know how to say that in German. In my desperation I had been saying "Ich Leibe Dich!" Repeatedly professing my love for her in a shaky and frantic voice. But maybe that was a good thing, because as I threw myself at the toilet, I figured the best I could hope for is that she would be so creeped-out that she would sneak out of the apartment, blissfully unaware of the carnage taking place in the next room.
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#3292
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What can I say about the ensuing white-knuckle bowel movement that hasn't been expressed in other reviews on this page? I'm pretty sure I haven't seen the adjective "Kafkaesque" used anywhere else.
By the end of Act One of this private little torture-porn movie, I was confessing to every unsolved crime in history. Praying I would stumble upon the one that would satisfy my invisible captors. Quickly I realized that I had more than Andrea's sense of sound to worry about. Were she to get even the faintest whiff of the weapons-grade sluice that my anus was angrily shouting into the porcelain, I would have to change my name and move to another city. And so I flushed. And flushed. And flushed and flushed. And then I flushed and nothing happened. I have never looked down into a broken toilet with more horror in my entire life. And I once stopped up George Clooney's crapper! (a true story for another time.) I reached for the plunger, but my hand froze and my heart seized when I saw it on the floor, broken in two and covered in what looked like teeth marks. Apparently I had used the wooden handle to keep from biting my tongue off and had chewed clean through it. When did that happen? It seems my mind had already started the process of repressing this entire event.
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3293
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Amid the feverish, fruitless dance I did across my tiny bathroom floor, it dawned on me that it had been more than a minute since my last soul-wrenching anal tantrum. Dear Lord, is it over? I asked, quite possibly aloud.
I may have been light-headed and delusional, but I began to imagine a non-ignominious resolution to this ordeal. I just needed to get her the hell out of here. If Andrea hadn't fled the building, vomiting in terror, then I supposed I could pull up my trousers and make a cavalier exit. As long as I could get her off premises and as far away from this post-apocalyptic commode as humanly possible. Assuming that the Diarrhistas had retreated to the hills temporarily, maybe I could even whisk Andrea away to a candlelight dinner at Bernardo's. How impulsive! My first few steps back toward the living room were tentative. And not just because my sphincter felt raw and tattered. It was a slow approach to the Moment of Truth, especially when I saw her figure still planted on my sofa. I knew any look on Andrea's face other than her mouth agape would constitute a miraculous victory. And when she smiled at me, the wash of relief that engulfed me was more glorious than any throes of ecstasy I might have wished for at the beginning of the night.
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3294
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And then I saw it.
The decorative bowl sitting in her lap. Down to just the last few sugarless Gummi bears. "Du hast Haribo!" she said to me. Accompanied by a satisfied smile. A big, beaming Hansel and Gretel smile, that slightly turned down in one corner at the sound we both suddenly heard. A low rumble from deep within her GI tract that sounded like Gefahrrrrr. The German word for Danger. Her eyes shot past mine and refocused on the bathroom door just down the hall behind me.
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3295
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There are many more, but you get the idea
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3296
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so, when the wife reviews my orders and who they were shipped to as presents, I'll just tell her it is a peace offering.
__________________
keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3297
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I like having fun with candy, then again Candy is kinky
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#3298
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let me stop for a sec and get a drink
__________________
keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3299
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OK, I'm back and cleaning out the computer
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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#3300
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An American rancher is meeting an Australian farmer. The farmer shows off his fields. "I've got fields twice this size", says the American. The Aussie then shows off his herd of cows. "Oh, we have cows twice this size back home", says the American.
A little while later the American spots two kangaroos hopping across the field. The American asks, "What are those?" Says the Aussie, "Haven't you got grasshoppers in America"?
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future |
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