I purchased my wife a Garmin watch that had GPS and heart rate monitor etc. Most importantly for her it shows how many calories she's burned. So one week after doing a lot of running and biking she starts talking about how many more calories she burned when she does exercises that keep her heart rate up above 80% her max. To which I leaned in and whispered in her ear that maybe... Read More »
Whether you're dating, in love, or just Facebook stalking, relationships are weird.
It's a long story...
I took a road trip to visit this girl for a few days who I hadn't seen in a while. She was taking summer classes and I stayed in her room while she was gone. She left before I got up and when I awoke I realized my pubes were rather long and they needed trimmed, just in case. Unfortunately, all I had was my pocket knife. In my groggy state this seemed like a reasonable idea; it has a serrated edge that I thought would do the trick. Apparently my pubes are tough as steel wire though because it failed miserably. I started to feel like there was some something that I should not have forgotten. I was groggy and dismissed the thought and then started looked for a pair of scissors. The pair I found were small, pink, and had her name engraved on them. Perfect! So there I am, pants around my ankles, straddling the toilet, diligently trimming my junk with very sharp, very pointy scissors and depositing the excess pubes in the toilet. All things considered I manage to make it look presentable, if not downright handsome. Proud of myself, I put the scissors down, pull up my pants, and flushed the toilet. As I'm pressing the handle to flush the toilet I snap awake as I remember the very important piece of information, the thing that I should not have forgotten: there is no water. Maintenance. She and her roommates would be returning soon and there I was staring at a mountain of red pubes sitting in her toilet, with no way to flush it. In panic mode I decided my only choice was to fish out the pubes with toilet paper. I knew that the toilet paper would disintegrate when it was wet, but I was not aware of the speed or completeness with which the process would occur. It happens somewhere approaching the speed of light. But I was determined, and managed to skim most of them out with toilet paper and resorted to finger picking for some of the rest. As I was hunched over the porcelain throne picking out pubes I heard the terrible sound of a key in the door. I scooped up the amalgamation of soggy, disintegrating toilet paper and fire red pubes and ran into her room, but I couldn't just put it in her trash can. I had only one choice; the window. I threw open the window and hurled the massive, hairy, spitball out the 4th floor window and watched it go splat in the bushes. I was half hanging out the window making sure no one saw when she walked into the room and said, with a big smile "Hey, good morning! Whatcha doing!?" I looked into her big blue eyes from over my shoulder and smiled and said "Just getting some fresh air." as I furiously attempted to remove the stray pubes and bits of toilet paper still stuck to my hands.
Nick Steele |
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