i think it was dennis miller who once discussed how strange the moments immediately following sex seem. you're looking around wondering who put a dog collar on you. you can't believe your wife allowed one of you to pour molasses all over her newest linens. you contemplate how you ever stretched her 'bad kitty' thong over your thighs and equally significant, how you expect to remove them. you know, all the usual suspects of a post-coital tryst.

this stupor aptly describes my sentiments regarding christmas. now that it is in the books, i look around my home wondering what idiot vomited this vast collection of red and green baubles everywhere and more importantly, why am i the schmuck expected to put it all away?

there is a light blue box in the butter tray of my refrigerator that has the words 'vaginal ring' on it. it had some other stuff on there too but i was pretty lost in determining if having this item on my dairy shelf is a good or bad thing for me.

boy does it warm the cockles to see such an obvious example of devout commitment and companionship.

imagine for a second what this girl would do if she woke up naked next to this guy and he wasn't a famous and rich comedian but instead the plumbing guy at home depot. would she kill him or herself first?

little kids masturbate.

my sister in law, who is an elementary teacher, calls kids who masturbate in class honkers. she calls the act of masturbating in class, honking. i fear my kids may be future honkers. while i don't recall specifically, odds are more than good that i may have been a honker myself. my new theory is that without intervention, all kids have the honker gene in them. i r...

a guy and i were talking at work about what it would be like to go to jail, like for-real jail. this guy is a pretty normal looking dude. normal height, normal weight, has to shave everyday, beginning to lose his hair. you know normal dude. additionally, he doesn't have a feminine thread in him. given all of this, i had to set the boy straight. now oddly enough, after defending my standing as the more appealing prison bitch, i swear this guy didn't look at me the same the rest of the day. is there such a thing as a corporate cube bitch? if so, i'm afraid i may already be spoken for.

alex is walking. aside from the fact that in perambulation little man most closely resembles the orangutan that starred opposite eastwood in the the Every Which Way But Loose series, everything is good. and good except for we now have doubled the number of people padding about the house at any given hour.

really not a problem if you remove the intimate requirements of marriage. yea...

my mom rules rules the universe that contains all moms. why? because she knows more about the underbelly of this country's sex life than me and all of my peeps combined. how many of you can say the same about your tired old mom. if you recall, she works for the centers for disease control, sexually transmitted diseases division in particular.

she recently called and asked if she could talk to a variety of my friends about what they may know about trends and commercial practices within the young gay community for an information campaign they are planning. i gave her a few names of people i thought might be helpful and then called them myself to ask if they would mind helping my mother out with a project she was working on. they all agreed.

the night before one of the couples who were to meet with her called the house and got marty. the guy on the phone said that his partner asked/made him call to see if troy's mom had some kind of ulterior and/or deceptive motivation in speaking to them. specifically were they going to come home the next day to find a gaggle of baptists picketing their home. marty assured them they were fine and no such thing would happen.

i called the night after they met with my mother asking for directions to their house from the baptist church down the way just so the bus didn't get lost en route.

to set the scene...

marty went to an all girls catholic high school.

marty had a friend who worked at a photo-mat.

this friend once brought in a copy of a photo picturing a 20-something guy standing naked with an erection. oh, and he had shoulder length feathered, permed, mulletted, and heavily hair-sprayed hair.

marty asked to borrow the photo, stuck it in one of her school books and whenever she found herself in a circle of girls and the question came up 'so, are you dating anyone?' in that high, excited falsetto only catholic school girls seem able to attain, marty would respond 'yeah i am' in a return falsetto, 'would you like to see a picture of him?' they would wildly shriek 'like to. i'd love to. yeah! let's see'. here marty would proudly pull this photo from her calculus book and hold it right in front of their growing eyes with an outstretched arm and watch their faces contort. they would then all take their tops off and bound through the halls, their full, dark ponytails wagging behind their lithe young bodies and they'd be screaming the name "troy! troy! troy!" over and over for some unknown reason. ok, so i added the last part, but the everything before that is really true.

i saw this photo once several years ago and feel compelled to tell you something about it. for one, i looked at this item only once, yet i remember every last detail about it right down to the color of the dirty shag carpeting (mustard yellow with black specks). if i had to explain the origin of this shot i'm certain it went something like this.

the year is 1983. quiet riot is playing a spring break concert in daytona. the drummer has just come out of the bathroom, post-concert, thinking he's got a groupie or two waiting for him but instead finds his band mates with their polaroid.

i'd post the image but it would be kind of a hassle to take it out of the frame on marty's night stand to scan it.

have you ever felt dirty? unchaste? impure? yeah, me neither but recently i've been struggling through a certain predicament. you see, bella likes to watch sesame street. she also likes someone to watch with her. oftentimes that someone is me and i'm always happy to oblige in this basic request.

bella likes gina the veterinarian. she is nice and helps people/animals. daddy likes gina the veterinarian a lot too. she is nice and does all sorts of kind acts. and did i mention she is crazy, smokin' hot. having sensual thoughts about a beautiful woman intermingled with elaborately detailed talking and dancing sock puppets hasn't done my psyche or intimate life any kinds of favors.

think i'm joking? you try having your more libidinous thoughts interrupted by a two-foot tickle me elmo doll informing you that tying your own shoes makes you a big boy, a very big boy.

one of the few shows walt and i watch together is nypd blue. during the sabbatical we watched an episode where one of the main cop guys (clark) was dating this smoking hot doctor woman he met in a previous episode. on one of their first dates they got into this row about how she has treated droves of fellas who were abused by the esteemed men in blue. he obviously took the opposing view saying tha...