7-26-08

Sometimes the deuce diaries needs to report on non-deuce related occurrences. For those of you who like to read about craps 24/7, I apologize for this one-time deviation from the norm. Every once and awhile, something other than pooping happens. I know its hard to believe. Last night was one of those times. It was approximately 1:42...and 32 seconds, when I was getting ready for bed. I heard loud noises. I couldn't quite figure out what they were or where they were coming from. As they got louder and louder, I thought carefully about what they could be. At first, it sounded like someone was in trouble. They got louder and louder. The inner superman in me wanted to come to the rescue. Then, I realized these were not noises of fear, anger, or desperation. These were noises of happiness. Pure jungle noises emanating from outside and through my window. I thought, wow, someone in an apartment nearby is having coitus. Not just any coitus, but loud, crazy, windows-open coitus. But something was strange about these noises. They appeared to be louder than one would expect and not exactly from below or above. So I looked outside, obviously, to see where the coitus was occurring. And sure enough, it was not from downstairs, upstairs, or the side apartments. I look across the parking lot to the building across the way. And there I see movement. Pure, raw, sexual movement. It was dark and far away, but it was clear that the shrill, mating sounds were coming from the two people writhing on a park bench nearby. Disgusted, I did what any person would do. I looked away and headed to the other room. Here I grabbed my binoculars and headed back to the window for a closer look. They had picked the perfect spot, because even with binoculars I couldn't make out their faces or what was going on down below. They were in a shadow, and all I could see was someone bouncing on top of the other. And all I could hear were the pleasure screams of the person on top. Then they leaned the woman against the railing (where she had a nice water view) and proceeded to engage in more rawer coitus. She then collapsed in a moment of joy, he put on some clothes and they headed out. But man, they had some guts to coitalate right there in a park. Not just any park. But a park that was overlooked by several dozen apartments and a garage (a parking garage which served as an echo chamber to amplify her screams to double or triple the actual volume). And now back to deucing. I realized, that even if I had a willing accomplice, my bowels would never allow me to engage in such wild and illegal behavior because the associated nervousness would indeuce a horrific deuce. Which brings me to my daily deuce diary.

I am now convinced that indian food is really bad. Not just bad, but really, really bad. I was ready to head out on the road to go to Costco, when I realized that I should probably lighten my load beforehand. I struggled to drop off the baggage, but when I broke through, I had plenty of baggage to release. Then when I was driving (yes, maybe the car-as-a-trigger theory has merit), I felt quite uncomfortable as if I might deuce at any moment. Not a good feeling. I made it to Costco, and saved a pretty penny. I again felt the deuce on the way back. This time, it was for real. I had to drop some kids off at the pool before I continued the day. To be honest, I thought more food came out than ever came in. The bowl was filled several times over in the last few days. Then, it was a celebration evening. Ruth's Chris steakhouse. I had a salad, a delicious filet mignon, some au gratin potatoes, creamed spinach, red wine and delicious chocolate cake. Before the cake came, my stomach was flipping out. I went to drop a deuce, but only had some smoke bombs to release. But these were smoke bombs that could clear you sinuses in a heart beat. Nothing to mess with. So my stomach hurt like hell, but I powered through for another couple of drinks. It seemed like something crawled in my ass and died, but no more deuce was dispensed. Just intestinal misery. So now on to my meals:

breakfast: shredded wheat with blueberries
lunch: taco leftovers (Beans, turkey taco meat, white rice, whole wheat soft shells)
Dannon activia for snack
dinner: ruth chris steak and such as described above.

exercise: none
dietary supplements: none

Day something of the aciivia experiment (too many drinks to calculate at this hour)

Deuce story: you heard it! I don't know if it is the indian food or the shredded wheat instead of cheerios that is making me deuce like crazy and have stomach pains. Maybe you can guess and leave a comment to cure me.

peace!---Deuces Wild