Posted on Sunday, September 19, 2010
in Family, Humourarse, Strange and Unusual
There are many places in this house that escape my cleaning routine. I may visit them twice a year, maybe not at all; the greasy crevice between the oven and the cabinets being one such place for instance. Euughh.
Another would be the place behind the giant shoe-box underneath our bed, apparently.
I spotted the glossy magazines while searching for spare change this morning, they grabbed my interest as a very strange place to keep magazines, so I pulled them out to have a better look. I turned page after page in total shock at both the images, and the fact that each page was so well-worn and crumpled by such apparently sweaty eager hands. I felt so confused and dirty at having found TAT’s little secret, and wondered what I should do with it.
See, I understand that a lot of men hide porn from their wives and I would be delighted if these magazines indeed were porn, but they weren’t porn at all, they were five different issues of WATCHTOWER, a Jehovah’s Witness rag that usually finds its way into the recycle bin around here (away with your claims of oozing purity! I reserve the right to be a total fuck-up, thank you very much!).
So what am I to do? Am I to throw the magazines on the coffee table in fury during a dramatic confrontation with TAT over a dirty-great-big fry-up one morning?
“WHAT’S THIS?!?” I might scream… “IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT TO TELL ME ABOUT? AM I NOT MEETING YOUR NEEDS HERE OR WHAT?? ARE YOU TALKING TO STRANGE MEN AT THE DOOR BEHIND MY BACK NOW, IS THAT IT??”
…and so on and so forth.
No, that seems too much like hard work. Instead I shall tell all his friends so that they may look upon him with great awe and ridicule, for that is what it is all about, for God is a woman and likes wine and has a sense of humour about these things.
See you in Hell.