A Typical Night In My Home, 11:30 p.m.
The Place: My bedroom, darkened with the exception of the flickering electronic light of my television. Beside me, the wife was slumbering peacefully, as was our crazy dog who insists on nestling up tight beside my beloved until she rolls over and realizes she has entered into a platonic threesome that never ends. As for yours truly, I was left to scan the barren landscape of late-night TV in search of something worthy of my valuable time.
Among my choices were the following:
Highway Thru Hell: For some reason I feel an urge to insert a mother-in-law joke but the words “insert” and “mother-in-law” should never be used in tandem so we’re going to forget this ever happened, all right?
The Shopping Channel: They don’t carry comic books, porn or weapons. Why the hell would anyone with a penis-that-prefers-to-visit-a-vagina ever watch this station?
You Gotta Eat Here!: No, I don’t.
Castle: A great show, actually, but Detective Kate Beckett (Stana Katic) is inexplicably, ridiculously, four-alarm, Chernobyl reactor meltdown, “How can anyone human and not plastic be that perfect?” hot so I had to stay away. The last thing I needed was to become aroused; that’s the moment the wife will roll over, take notice of my condition and say,
“Yeah right. Dream on, Butt Boy!”
Duck Dynasty: I’d rather eat glass in the company of the entire Honey Boo Boo clan than spend a minute watching a bunch of filthy-rich, deceitful (the Robertsons are as genuine as a three-dollar-bill), homophobic rednecks drag the A&E network further down the toilet than they already are.
Did I mention Castle? I did? Oh well, the pic was already lined up, so…
In the old days, before television supposedly cleaned up it’s act, I’d watch “Blue Movies” on Toronto’s City-TV. Of course, the “films” they broadcast were soft-core masterpieces, but… you know what? I’m a guy; I shouldn’t have to justify why I prefer to watch beautiful women engaged in various sexual acts – and so I’m not going to.
And that, my friends, is how you keep a marriage fresh. Never ignore the humor in the everyday and you’ll be fine. Of course, it should be noted that I am not a licensed marriage counselor, but you can trust me, I’m a bellman.
See you in the lobby, kids…