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Monkey in a Pink Canoe

November 11, 2017

“Where did I come from?” asked Shadrach as we pulled up to his football game at Fleigenbaum Field. Having never been married, I thought I’d be exempt from ever having this discussion with a 6-year-old quarterback, so I never put much thought into what I’d say if asked. Looks like I was going to have to punt.

“Well, Shadrach, each month, in one of your mommy’s two ovaries, a few immature eggs develop into follicles. The mature follicle releases an egg during ovulation, which turns into the corpus luteum. Progesterone prepares the endometrium in anticipation of the embryo. Then, your daddy’s sperm travels up the fallopian tube where it fertilizes your mommy’s egg, mixing her X chromosomes with his Y chromosomes to create a zygote and blastocyst. Thanks to Human Chorionic Gonadotrophin, nine months later you were born!”

“I just meant what town was I born in?” said Shadrach. “Meshach said it was Toledo, but Abednego thinks it was Cleveland.”

Since I’d already opened the door to the wonders of human reproduction, Shadrach had me cornered for “the discussion.” Evidently, neither of his parents wanted to get involved. I don’t blame them. My father never sat me down, either. Instead, he just sent me into my bedroom with a stack of National Geographics and told me to figure it out myself. I learned the rest from Tommy Flugelman while walking to school. read more

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For Better or for Worse

December 6, 2016

Boston, Mass. – In a landmark case for matrimonial rights, a Boston man married himself today in a private service. Roland Nigland, 31, stood before a municipal judge and a small gathering of close friends to profess his love to himself in what is believed to be the first same-person marriage on record.

“From the moment that I saw my reflection in the mirror,” said Nigland, “I fell in love with myself.” Nigland confessed that the first time that he started to experience strong feelings for himself was in the third grade. “I snuck into my room the other morning and pressed my nose into a hamper of my dirty laundry. I just couldn’t get that fragrance out of my mind.” As Nigland became a young man, he started to experience undeniable sexual feelings for himself. “At first, I tried to ignore them. But, one day when my hand innocently brushed up against my thigh, I knew that I had to take it to the next level.”

In the beginning, Nigland harmlessly flirted with himself in the school library, but feared that someone might catch him in the act, so he started renting cheap rooms at the Bedford Motel. “I was always nervous when I checked in. I began to sweat when the desk clerk asked me how many guests would be spending the night – even though I knew it was only me. Sometimes I’d just pay double to avoid causing suspicion.” read more

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(Don’t Let Me Be) The Last Virgin in Saigon

October 7, 2016

I’d been fogging up the windows with Magda Biedermann for the better part of our senior year. As graduation approached, I had only one thing on my mind: consummating our relationship (and coincidentally, losing my virginity) before being drafted and sent off to Vietnam. Her motives were considerably more funereal: she wanted to get married and carry our little bun in her oven.

My rapaciousness was no match for Magda’s wholesome ambitions, so progress was painfully slow. While I was able to reach first base through a cunning synthesis of deception, chicanery and Olympic-class flexibility, there were no indications that I’d get any further, let alone slide into home. And, time was quickly running out.

I thought she’d finally caved in during a passionate tussle in the back seat of my mother’s Pontiac. After pinning me down with a Flying Forearm Smash, followed by a humbling Testicular Claw, Magda agreed to sacrifice her loins provided I write her a love song before I left – her idea of the ultimate commitment between a man and a woman. read more

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