OK, maybe not good, but something showed up in my moderate queue that at least raised a smile (no pun intended, as you’ll see). Edited for the best bits, and to remove the links:
Just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary with not much to celebrate.
When it came time to re-enact our wedding night, he locked himself in
the bathroom and cried.
Today, he says he has a big secret to tell me. He’s impotent, he says,
and he wants me to be the first to know. Why doesn’t he tell me
something I don’t know! I mean, he actually thinks I haven’t noticed.
This marriage is in trouble. A woman has needs. Yesterday, I saw a
picture of Nelson’s Column and burst into tears.
A miracle has happened! There’s a new drug on the market that will fix
his ‘problem.’ It’s called Viagra. I told him that if he takes Viagra,
things will be just like they were on our wedding night. I think this
will work. I replaced his Prozac with the Viagra, hoping to lift
something other than his mood.
What absolute bliss!!.
Isn’t life wonderful but it’s difficult to write while he’s doing that.
This Viagra thing has gone to his head. No pun intended! Yesterday, at
Burger King, the manager asked me if I’d like a Whopper. He thought they
were talking about him. But, have to admit it’s very nice – I don’t
think I’ve ever been so happy.
I think he took too many over the weekend. Yesterday, instead of mowing
the lawn, he was using his new friend as a weed whacker. I’m also
getting a bit sore down there.
No time to write. He might catch me.
Okay, I admit it. I’m hiding. I mean, a girl can only take so much. And
to make matters worse, he’s washing the Viagra down with neat whisky!
What am I going to do? I feel tacky all over….
I’m basically being screwed to death. It’s like living with a Black and
Decker drill. I woke up this morning hot-glued to the bed. Even my
armpits hurt. He’s a complete pig.
I wish he was gay. I’ve stopped wearing make-up, cleaning my teeth or
even washing but he still keeps coming after me! Even yawning has become
Every time I shut my eyes, there’s a sneak attack! It’s like going to
bed with a scud missile. I can hardly walk and if he tries that “Oops,
sorry” thing again, I’ll kill the b*****d.
I’ve done everything to turn him off. Nothing is working. I even started
dressing like a nun but this just seems to make him more horny. Help me.