Coffee and the Skeleton

If you can’t get the skeleton out of your closet you had better teach it to dance

The Boss and I have been in a state of wedded bliss for absolutely decades now and I normally tell people that they have been the best two years of my life (that never gets old). The Boss retorts by telling people that her favorite sexual position is next door (and I think that we can all agree that is not funny and she should cut it out). Still you would think that after 20 years plus (rapists only get 14) all the secrets would have been discovered but apparently not. It transpires that the boss was born out of wedlock and who would have guessed what with her mother being such a nice woman. This disclosure was as bizarre as the rest of my life, so bear with me, here we go again.

I am somewhat fond of attending yard sales. I prefer to attend just the ones in the community as I see rummaging through their tat as a valuable insight into the neighbor’s lives. In addition you are also able to fake a bathroom emergency and they are far more likely to allow you to use the facilities than they would a total stranger. Of course the real reason is to get into the bathroom and check out the medicine cabinet. Generally I take a little notepad in and make a few notes then back home I get out Litts Drug Reference Manual and have a jolly old laugh. Usually I see an overabundance of Ritalin as well as some very odd tiny wiener cream stuff. I have yet to find a medicine cabinet devoid of Valtrex and I have to wonder what you colonials are doing with your genitals. Anything really interesting deserves a sample although to be frank I am not sure that estrogen actually agrees with me. So today having discovered that the nice people at number 1350 are having problems in the firmness department (if you catch my drift) I wandered back into the front yard. There really wasn’t too much of any interest so mainly out of boredom I bought a job lot of unmarked self-help DVDs. Back home I absently put one into the player and discovered it was Mike Tyson’s Guide to Good Lovin’. Why anyone would buy this in the first place and then sell it in a yard sale is beyond me but clearly as far as 1350 is concerned there really is trouble in paradise. Surprisingly the DVD turned out to be quite good, although you ladies might want to avoid Mike’s advice on ear nibbling as a form of foreplay. Later that night the boss and I were, well how can I put this delicately? In the arms of Venus when following the advice from Mike I said, “Who’s your Daddy, Who’s your Daddy? Who’s your Daddy?” Looking up from her book the Boss said, “I really have absolutely no idea”.

So there you have it, incredible but true. Tangoing with skeletons.

TCB