Recently, my awesome mother-in-law sent us a post-holiday card. Within it was a personalized message to me.
"Stuart," it read, "you better start practicing your Sex--will expect entertainment in the nursing home."
After I rolled my tongue up off the floor and tucked it back into my mouth, I reread the card. Yep. Same thing.
The ramifications of her note were mind-boggling. And not even a bit cryptic. Kinda an order from her.
Which begs the question: what in the world have my wife and her mom been talking about? Furthermore, what does my mother-in-law mean by "practice?" Surely, she can't be advocating more masturbation, right? I mean, I don't want to go blind or grow lycanthropically hairy palms.
I suppose I could use a little boning up on my sex technique. But honestly, I'd rather not hear it from my mother-in-law.
And what kind of nursing home are we talking about here where sex is used to entertain the crowd? I imagine the facility has quite a long waiting list. (I'd better get signed up now.)
After the fireworks in my head died out, I took a closer look at the note. "Stuart," it read a bit differently this time, "you better start practicing your Sax..."
Ooooooohhhhhhh...... Okay. That's a bit better.
Speaking of things better not thought about for the sake of humanity, have you heard the one about the male stripper and his detective sister? No? Well, you're late to the party! Click here already!