Smoking Jackets and Magazines

Kent and I received some very good news yesterday. With his approval, as long as it's funny, I'm allowed to share our good news. Kent's swimmers are A-O-K. His man junk has the stamina needed to hopefully find it's way up to my non-existent eggs. OK, they are not non-existent, they are just sort of hanging out in the sack, keeping themselves toasty. All I ask is a monthly deposit, sort of like a bank's interest payment, just move down that tube and wait for your next move. Wait, hold on, it's been awhile since I was in health class. You'd think I would have remembered the way this crap works from that giant 3 dimensional vagina that was staring me in the face while we were at the RE office. All I know is that Kent is relieved he will hopefully not have many more of these encounters.....

Last week Kent was a trooper, a real-life hero in my book. He dropped by my office and I took him to lunch, complete with chips and a treat, there was no need to think about calories on this day. He kept looking at my watch as he knew it was getting closer and closer to having to do the deed, or as he informed me that morning, "go jack off in a cup." Like the man he is we rode in the elevator together and he got off (he he he) on the 10th floor and I continued a few floors up to my office. I patiently waited for him to call me. 30 minutes later he was sitting in his truck and the ordeal was over. Instantly, I wanted details. ME.."Did you watch a porn?", KENT..NO. ME.."Did you look at the magazines?" KENT.."Yeah, not many. You only need to look at one or two Hustlers. There was a drawer full of them though." ME.."Did you wash your hands?" KENT...laughing, no comment. Then he described to me the small room with a video player and a drawer full of magazines. A little place of paradise smack dab next to the lab with a sliding drawer to drop off the deposit. I wish it was like a bank where you use to whisk away your money in a tube to get a receipt and a sucker and dog treat (if your dog was with you). I was concerned that he might have been "held up" sort of at gun point with a shyness that might be holding up the line for the next deposit. No need to fret, that office has two rooms to make your deposit.

Daily, Kent would remind me that we should be getting his "lab" results. I told him no need to fret, it would take about a week and they would call us when they were ready. This past week-end we went to a 40th birthday party and Kent instantly b-lined it for the guy in the room that he also knew had made a "deposit" in this office. In fact, Kent later informed me, this man has made 4 deposits. While they were enjoying a signature cocktail and a deviled egg (who does not love a deviled egg) they actually spoke about the magazines and their experience. Here's what makes me laugh. While they were discussing their experience this is what my husband was wearing.



The invitation for this party said festive attire a bonus. Kent and I were by far "the" couple at the party who were looking for a bonus, a prize, some sort of freebie. In this quest for being the best dressed I discovered that Kent apparently has a penchant for smoking jackets. Like he bought two of them recently on e-bay. Kent can barely use his ipod let alone figure out ebay and paypall. Apparently if you really want a new "jacket" you will do anything. He also went on a serious hunt for the right bow tie. Not some bullsh*t pre-tied one, this was full on I need the instructions as I'm going to do this bad boy myself. His hunt did not succeed as he wanted the perfect shade of silver, only to find cheap sparkly looking ones. Alas, he found himself in this dapper number. I did my best, and unfortunately you can't see my fab bird feathered flower pin attached to my dress's ribbon.



Now that we know things are looking positive on Kent's end, I sort of question why I was even worried (hello...he's 38 1/2, drinks, builds crap and uses chemicals). In retrospect though, how could anyone who shows up in a smoking jacket not have seriously big balls? Big balls filled with fighters who are ready to fight the good fight and get a little Davis in the house to terrorize the crap out of both of us.