The Perfect Husband

Начало книги

I suffered a head injury as a kid when my parents got into a car accident. After that, I was never the same. Mama says God made me handsome as compensation for making me dumb, but grandpa says my parents fucked up my head when they didn’t put on my seatbelt.

Because my dick is ridiculously long, my wife has always fantasized about catching me masturbating, so on our 25 th Wedding Anniversary I decided to give her a show. But it hit some snags. First I got yelled at. Stuff like, “Dad! Not during dinner!” or “First Red Lobster, now Olive Garden? You know I hate Bennigans!”

You know, shit like that.

I tried to blame all the ruckus on the adorable waitress without success — thank God grandma insisted on coming along. The more Alzheimer’s takes her, the more useful she becomes. If it weren’t for her wicked right hook, I wouldn’t avoid her so much.

My show sputtered early because the people at the other tables demanded I pull my drawers up. Even the town stripper suggested I stop traumatizing her first grade class. I wouldn’t have fallen so much if my oldest son didn’t keep shaking the table I was dancing on. I nearly lost my dignity when I lost my balance and crashed into the young black couple next to us.

Читать дальше →