So I have written about some of the arguments I have had and won. I guess it is only fair to write about some of the losing ones as well. It’s at least good for a laugh.
If something that big can come out of that hole, then you should be able to handle something that big going in: The great anal sex debate. See some girls are into it, some do it because they just want you to shut the fuck up about it already and others do it so they can have a form of leverage to ruin your life at a later date. Now no matter how you splice it, the real trick is propositioning it. You never know what magic words (or cocktail) will get you a pass to play with a girl’s rabbit’s nostril. I once had a girlfriend who would do just about anything in the sack but that. Which leads me to believe she once dated Meatloaf and he then wrote a song about her bullshit (here is your example). She would also take these big shits and tell me about it. So one day after exhausting reasons like “It’s the preferred method of Europe” or “You can’t get knocked up doing this shit” I simply said “If something that big can come out of that hole, then you should be able to handle something that big going in”. That denied me from ever viewing the brown starfish ever again in that relationship. Total fail. It may sound like a logical thing to say, but I advise you not to use it. It doesn’t work and you could get a knee in the crotch out of nowhere.
No one will ever notice that I have a shiner: I used to work as a bouncer at a particular shitty club on The Bowery. Did it for years and more often than not someone got hit during my employment there. At any rate I had to work this one particular show the night before my wife’s mom’s wedding. Long story short I got into a huge fight with a big Polish dude and wound up with a nice shiner. Which led me to a near psychotic episode to kill said Polish gentleman because I knew I was dead as soon as I walked in the door later on that night. So I finish my shift and pick up a tube of Preparation H (works wonders on black eyes.) and some more ice and hope to god she won’t wake up when I come home. That only happens in the movies. She not only heard me come in, but noticed that I was holding a bag of ice. Not to mention that my face smelled like an old mans asshole. The light goes on and I find myself paddling up Shit’s Creek. I try to tell her that no one will notice. It’s a wedding, everyone is going to be focused on your mom and (name withheld) and I’ll just hang back and keep my head down. That plan must have been designed by the same brilliant architect that assumed that my wife would never wake up and notice I’m dinged up. Another complete failure. Everyone was asking about it. I was bombarded with questions about what the other guy looks like and was even told that I must not be very good at what I do. That black eye got a lot of attention that day to the point that it might as well have gone up and gotten married too. Oh well, at least my life isn’t boring. What the fuck have you done?