How do I know?
It's just like the week, but without an alarm.
Mrs lefty is so bored she wants to do refuse work, provided it's out of the house, takes longer than a few hours, and doesn't involve me. I can't blame her.
Somebody is watching Twilight Zone on tv, or rather the tv is on with Twilight Zone playing. I suspect the tv makes up 56% of our electric bill, but only 15% of our time. It's like an MP3 player with pictures. I can't really operate it but I set it up. The remote's MUTE key has the paint scrubbed off because I don't want to hear it: I figure if the unseen entities want to watch tv and drive the bills up, at least they can do it silently, without annoying the hell out of me. Besides - I don't get this Twilight Zone thing... people tell me it scared the hell out of them when they were younger. They saw it as black and scary. I see it as just another day, where pictures come alive, stuff flies around the room, and a virus keeps the world home. If I could reach the remote, on the other side of the couch, I'd turn the sound on - this episode is directed by John Aston - Gomez from the Addams Family. Talk about typecasting - no matter what the guy did, he was Gomez.
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Then the commercials started:
Hey, Mr ex-Football Player, how do you still look so great?
Well, I take Dicktosterone.
What's that?
As a man gets older, he loses certain potencies and his wife starts to complain.
What does Dicktosterone do for you?
It makes me look buff, makes my skin shine, and makes my wife complain.
It's like Viagra without a prescription. I can go all night. Now my wife complains about being sore and having a trapeze over the bed. There's no pleasing that woman. Well, you know what I mean.
Watching tv is dangerous. I did learn something, though: 60% of women wear the wrong size pad.
It's unprecedented, but the sun's out!
It's a trap.
I know this because we're bored out of our skulls and have to entertain ourselves any way we can. Much like this blog, we make stuff up.
It looks inviting, sure. But open the door and it's 32 degrees. Children are stuck to the road, except little Billy, whose tongue has been stuck to the light pole for 2 years. They have to make him a coffin that will accommodate a light pole too.
It's not that we've been married too long, but I get all excited when I wake up with another head on my pillow. I smile, because I love her a lot and tell her all the time. The wife is snoring away on her side of the bed; I'm talking about the dog.
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