PSA- Exercise Kills

That’s right, you heard me, Exercise kills your sex life.

What?  You don’t agree? Well I have PROOF!  Let me lay out the facts for you.

About 3 months ago, the man approached me about starting a kickboxing class at 6 am EVERY morning (except Sunday, my new favorite day) I agreed at the time, and also may have mentioned that it would be the end of our then very active sex life.  It was all bravado.  All smack talk.  Just trying to get a rise out of him, if you know what I mean. 

It was tough, and getting used to getting up at very early o’clock did hamper things quite a bit.  I mean morning sex was out, because we were barely awake as we’d stumble out to the truck at 5:30 am.  Evening sex was out because we were staring at each other at 7:30 hoping we could convince the kids it was much later and that they needed to go to bed.  By the time the kids were actually asleep in bed, we’d already been mentally asleep for  hours.  Eventually, we worked out a new routine some mornings, but it just wasn’t what it once had been.  And then came RAGBRAI.  (For those of you who don’t  know, it’s a week long 500+ mile bicycle ride across Iowa.  It’s 1/3 bicycling, 1/3 beer, and 1/3 fresh baked pie)  I didn’t go, but the man did.  And he returned a broken man.  I don’t know if you can imagine what happens to a guy who’s riding his bicycle about 65 miles a day for 7 days in a row…but yeah, that.  Now, when he’s driving me crazy, I can call him “numb nuts” and he can’t complain.  *WIN*

Many of you might be saying, that doesn’t seem like it would be all bad.  And in fact, there is an upside…when we do find time to “get a little”, it’s never over quickly….EVER.  So, the quickies that were getting us through the day…GONE. 

So don’t exercise folks….it messes with your routine, it numbs your ass and other useful areas, it steals your energy for even a quickie before bed. 

I’m telling you friends, this exercise crap is deadly…it can kill your sex life faster than you can say…numb nuts.  So I’m back to surfing the web for a spectacular new “battery operated boyfriend” for me and a urologist for him. 

If I can save even one happy sex life or prevent just one pair of balls from going completely and utterly numb, by sharing my story, well then I have done my part…

Thinking only of naked Ryan Reynolds sans crushed nuts you

Angi

My Own Personal Goat Rodeo

My very first trip to the gynecologist was a nightmare. I was fifteen, young by some standards, but my girl problems started early. My doctor entered the room, announced that he had a student with him.  (I was young, and didn’t realize that I could request the student not be there. ) Then he brought in the nurse, who was  a female, so that he could touch me without legal accusations making me feel uncomfortable. Just as he’s getting ready to insert the speculum duckbills, he realizes he has no KY jelly.  He ungloves to look for a new tube, finding none, he sends the nurse to find one.  At this point, the doctor, the resident and I all stare awkwardly at my feet dressed in little socks with pink, fuzzy balls on the back  resting in the stirrups.  Waiting…

At the nurse’s return with the LARGEST tube of KY Jelly I’ve EVER seen, they all proceed to “glove up” again.  As doc gets the lid off he realizes that there is still the foil safety seal on top…all three of them tried once with their gloves on to get the foil seal off the top.  Not one of them succeeded…so they handed it to me…the wide-eyed, sixteen year old girl in stirrups for the FIRST. TIME. EVER. to remove the foil seal.  I did and handed it back to my doctor. 

The remainder of the appoinment after that was a blur.  What’s not a blur, is walking out to my mom in the waiting room and upon her asking if everything went ok, I simply replied. “It was a fucking THREE RING CIRCUS.”

And that was the first time I ever cursed at my mother…that I can remember…

Because saying shit in a Mc Donald’s at age three doesn’t count. 

And if it does count, then it was HER fault…so then it doesn’t count again.

But that’s a story for another day.