Diary of a Viagra Housewife
Day 1.
Just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary with not much to
celebrate. When it came time to reenact our wedding night, he
locked himself in the bathroom and cried.
Day 2.
Today, he says he has a big secret to tell me. He's impotent, he
says, and he wants me to be the first to know. Why doesn't he tell
me something I don't know! I mean, gimme a break. He's been
dysfunctional for so long that he even walks with a limp.
Day 3.
This marriage is in trouble. A woman has needs. Yesterday, I saw a
picture of the Washington Monument and burst into tears.
Day 4.
A miracle has happened! There's a new drug on the market that will
fix his 'problem.' It's called Viagra. I told him that if he takes
Viagra, things will be just like they were on our wedding night. He
said, 'this time, I'd rather not have your mother join us.' I think
this will work. I replaced his Prozac with the Viagra, hoping to lift
something other than his mood.
Day 7.
This Viagra thing has gone to his head. No pun intended! Yesterday,
at Burger King, the manager asked me if I'd like a Whopper. He
thought they were talking about him. Get over yourself!
Not everything is about you! But,
have to admit ...
Day 8.
I think he took too many over the weekend. Yesterday, instead of
mowing the lawn, he was using his new friend as a weed
whacker. Sore as hell....
Day 10.
Okay, I admit it. I'm hiding. I mean, a girl can only take so much.
And to make matters worse, he's washing the Viagra down with
hard cider! The photo of Janet Reno isn't working. What am I gonna
do? I feel tacky all over....
Day 11.
The side effects are starting to get to him. Everything is turning
blue. The other day, we were watching Kenneth Branaugh in
Hamlet and he thought it was "The Smurfs Do Denmark." Even my
armpits
hurt. He's a nasty man.
Day 12.
OK, I'm basically being drilled to death. It's like going out with a
Black and Decker power tool. I woke up this morning hot-glued to
the bed.
Day 13.
I wish he was gay. I bought 400 Liza Minelli albums and I keep saying
'fabulous,' and still he keeps coming after me! Even yawning has
become dangerous ...
Day 14.
Now I know how Saddam Hussein's wife feels. Every time I shut my
eyes, there's a sneak attack! It's like going to bed with a
scud missile. Let's hope he's not like ex-President Bush and takes
100 days to pull out. I can hardly walk and if he tries that
"Oops, sorry" butt-thing again, I'm gonna kill him.
Day 15.
I've done everything to turn him off. Nothing is working. I even
started dressing like a nun. Now he tells me "Sister Wendy"
makes "Father Woody" want to bark like a dog. Help me.
Day 16.
I think I will have to kill him. Then he'll go out the way he wants
to...stiff. With my luck, I won't be able to close the casket. I'm
starting to adhere to everything I sit on. The cats are afraid of him
and the neighbors no longer come over. Last night I told him to
screw himself ... he did.
He must die.
Please don't forget to sign
our guestbook