#50 – Conservation may be King, but the Porcelain Throne is God

My wife and I each have our own peculiarities and compulsions. Mine lead me to conservationism and frugality. Hers … Well, let’s just say, hers do not.
Judging by her actions, I think Sophia’s favorite adjectives must be “clean” and “complete.” She washes the sheets and bath towels twice a week. If she sees a roll of toilet paper two-thirds gone, she removes it. And when her toothpaste tube requires the least bit of folding to squeeze out the contents, into the garbage it goes.

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#51 – Wabbit Season

Several people have told me they don’t see much (if any) sign of Shih Tzu in Prometheus. What do I know? Before my wife gifted him to me, for Father’s Day, I couldn’t have picked a Shih-Tzu or a Yorkie out of a lineup, and I’d certainly never heard of a melding of the two breeds. The truth of the situation makes no difference to me either. To be blunt, at less than six pounds, there’s not enough of the critter for me to give a crap. In any case, I’m far less concerned over the percentage of Shih-Tzu genetically contributed to my puppy than I am about the disturbing inter-species behavior I’m seeing from him.

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#52 – It’s all in the Title

Until this morning, I couldn’t understand why my wife has been flashing me odd looks for the past week. Nor could I fathom why she twice asked me whether there’s anything about me I haven’t told her, but should? The response I gave to that question, on both occasions, naturally was “no.” Of course, internally, my immediate thought each time was: There’s a lot I haven’t told you, all of which I plan to take to my grave.

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#53 – A Case of Mistaken Identity

After yesterday’s incident at the mall, I’m beginning to think my neighborhood may no longer be big enough for both us and our neighbors. As it is, we haven’t been on good terms with “Lucrecia” and “Hernando” since the day I inadvertently blabbed my knowledge of Hernando’s cross-dressing fetish. I’m fairly sure now, one couple will need to relocate; else, I’m afraid violence may erupt.

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#55 – When the Kids are Away …

I don’t know why I derive such great satisfaction when my friends screw up in a Richard-like fashion. But I do. Take this afternoon, for instance. One of my closest friends from up north, Ava Fox, called to relate an incident from this morning. Ava and her husband, Danny, have been married for almost twenty years now; yet Danny pursues Ava for sex as if they’re newlyweds.

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#57 – I’m Touched

After years employing an old-fashioned Blackberry as my cell phone, I finally broke down and bought a spiffy new iPhone yesterday. I can’t deny it’s an amazing device. And I’m sure I’ll come to love its marvelous and diverse features … once I learn how to use it properly. At present, I’m still getting the hang of the touch screen. The results thus far have admittedly been mixed, as my experimentation with the unit has already subjected me (and others) to some unexpected outcomes.

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#58 – Oh Shiatsu!

My wife loves massages. In theory, I don’t, mainly because I’ve never particularly enjoyed being touched. Nonetheless, when Sophia (for my last birthday) purchased a session at a local Asian massage parlor, I could hardly refuse. She told me she’d sprung for the best package – the “Everything” deal – and insisted I’d love it. A couple of months ago, I finally went.

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#59 – The Early Bird

Yesterday, a distasteful habit of yore came back to bite me in the ass. One of my favorite “party tricks” used to involve eating worms. As a young adult, I thought nothing bespoke “cool” so much as a live earthworm dangling from my lips, and then vanishing down the gullet before an astonished bystander. But like so many good things, the pastime eventually fell by the wayside, mainly due to practical considerations (i.e., a desire to get laid before I turned seventy). As a result, prior to last morning, it’d been a good twenty years since I last sucked down a tasty annelid.

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