Nothing to See Here…

Yesterday was the 36th birthday of The Horniest Man in the Universe. 

What do you get The Horniest Man in the Universe for his birthday?  Well, my friends, not golf clubs, that’s for sure.  And if you buy him a nice necktie, you better figure out a way to put a big red bow on your naked self and use that necktie to secure your hands to the bedpost.  Or something.

Me?  I hadn’t made a move toward any birthday gift shopping by Thursday so there was nothing left to do but claim that it was my plan all along to give him the ultimate birthday gift - ME.  And so commenced Sexfest 2006.  One doesn’t need to go shopping for that.

So I made hotel reservations, filled a backpack with some lingerie, some CFM shoes, my friend Doctor Ruthless (yes, she has a name!) and off we went to the local Hilton.

The first thing I did was ordered the All-Night Ticket to hotel porn.  Yes, yes, it is to porn what Old Country Buffet is to cuisine.  Meaning it’s not very good at all, but you can have as much of it as you want!

We were like Chandler and Joey on Friends with the endless porn.  We were sort of tired of it after awhile, but we just couldn’t bring ourselves to turn it off.  By the end of the night, we were the Siskel and Ebert of porn, critiquing it all.  Real people can’t do THAT!  Nobody says those things!  She’s faking it, she’s totally faking it.  Those men?  They set an unrealistic size standard by which the rest of the world is judged.  Besides, size doesn’t really matter, right? RIGHT??? The conclusion was that I could do it SO much more believably than those chicks.  They suck.  (And there is definitely a joke in there but that fruit is hanging way to low for me to grab it.) (And there is another easy joke around grabbing low hanging fruit, too, but see how restrained I am?)

Anyway, we did leave the porn for a bit and went out for dinner.  With clothes on and everything (only? under the clothes, butt-floss underwear - yuck!)  It was lovely.  After dinner, we drove all over looking for Pop Rocks.  And if you don’t know what the connection is between Pop Rocks and Sexfest 2006, then obviously you are not a member of my message board, where the glory of Pop Rocks in the art of pleasing your man has made quite the stir (or shall I say a mini explosion of shock and delight?)

Evidently, the people at the local supermarket and QuickTrip (and two or three other places we stopped at) have no clue about the importance of Pop Rocks to a night of adult birthday debauchery.  So, the horniest man in the universe had to settle for a peppermint Altoid birthday blo- present.  All I’m saying is that it was curiously strong.  Curiously.  We’ll leave it at that.

So finally we just had to turn the porn off, we couldn’t take it anymore.  And after plenty of birthday celebrating (we definitely put the bang in birthday bang) we each went to opposite sides of the king size bed facing away from each other (awww, what a sweet couple married for so long that they appreciate the concept of personal space) and got some sleep.

At 5:30 AM, I woke him up in that way he likes to be woken up just to end it all on a positive note.  He said “What about the anal sex?  A man can never get enough of the anal sex.” and I said “This morning’s anal sex is being brought to you by the letter NO.  Your birthday is over.”  So we brushed our teeth, tossed our few things into the backpack, and headed out.

We stopped and had breakfast at the Waffle House, because we’re just high class that way with such discriminating palates (hey, don’t be dissing the Waffle House!) and headed home before the girls even woke up.

Happy birthday, Stud. Muffin  I love you like no body’s business.  But don’t expect to achieve the Triple Crown again for at least another year.

I fully expect a case of cherry Pop Rocks to be delivered to my doorstep within the week.