In response to a bit on last night's Colbert Report, Mrs. PatRoW asked me which man, if a gun were being held to my head, would I choose to have sex with. A ridiculous and logic-defying question? Sure, but that's the way we do pillow talk at casa de PatRoW.
"Why would someone hold a gun to my head and demand that I have sex with another man?" I asked.
"Well maybe," she hypothesized, "he wants to prove that being gay isn't so bad and that straight men have nothing to be scared of."
"So he's holding a gun to my head to prove his point?"
"Yes. After you have sex with a man, he will have proven to you that there's nothing wrong with being gay."
"I don't need the fear of death to prove that to me," I answered. "I just think that if that's his agenda, there are better ways to accomplish it."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, if gay sex isn't so bad, why put a gun to my head? Wouldn't I forever associate homosexuality with the prospect of a bullet in my brain? No, I think a better approach would be link the act to something positive – you know, like telling me that I could choose any many in the world to have sex with, and if I went through with it, I would get a lifetime supply of ice cream."
"OK," said my obviously frustrated wife. "If a man told you that he would give you a lifetime supply of ice cream if you had sex with any man, who would you choose?"
"That's easy," I answered. "I'd tell the guy that I'm lactose intolerant and can't eat ice cream. I'd thank him for his offer, but have to pass."
I don't share personal stuff all that often, but I thought last night's brilliance deserved the call back. Besides, since I was exiled to the couch after confounding Mrs. PatRoW with my cold, Vulcan logic, I thought I'd give everyone a chance to witness the transformation of master debater into masturbator.
What – you thought I could get through this post without a bad, crude pun? Is this your first day?
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