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Diary of a Viagra Housewife...
Dear Diary:
Day 1: Just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary with not
much to celebrate. When it came time to re-enact 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, 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!
Day 10: 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.
Day 11: 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?
Day 12: 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.
Day 13: I'm basically being drilled to death. It's like going out with Black and Decker.
Day 15: I wish he was gay. I bought 400 Liza Minelli albums and I keep saying "fabulous" and still he keeps coming after me!
Day 16: 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.
Day 17: I've done everything to turn him off. Nothing is working. I even started dressing like a nun.
Now he tells me Mother Theresa revs his motor.
Day 20: I may just 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!
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