Mark C.: Hey. Love the blog. Got a question for you. Why does my wife call out someone else’s name during sex? She says, “Oh Mark, Mark!”
Practicallyserious.com: But wait a minute. Isn’t your name Mark?
Mark C.: Yes, my name just-so-happens to be Mark as well. But my wife doesn’t really respect me so much and she never refers to me by name. She has this nickname she always calls me around the house and I really don’t like it, but I’m scared that if I complain she’ll just call me it more. It’s “Dopey.” She says, “Hey Dopey, take out the garbage.” So she must be talking about some other Mark when we have sex. But who the hell is he?
Practicallyserious.com: It might still be you, Dopey. Maybe during the heat of carnal passion your wife momentarily mistakes you for a “man” and thus calls you by your real name. Don’t worry, I’m sure she didn’t mean it. I thought of a quick fix-it. Since you’re too afraid to ask her to stop calling you Dopey, why don’t you just ask her to call you Dopey during sex as well? This way everything will be nice and balanced. No more confusion.
Dopey: Hey, that worked! Thanks!
Practicallyserious.com: No problem Dopey.
Joe R.: I haven’t had sex with my wife at all in the past eleven months, and then all of a sudden she comes up to me and says she has a brand new puppy. How is that even possible? And she actually thinks I’m gonna help take care of something that obviously isn’t even mine? Does she think I’m some kind of idiot?
Joe R.: She should.
Bob T.: Hi! Love your blog. So I have a little problem. One night I caught my wife trying to climb out our second story bedroom window when she thought I was asleep. After I yanked her back in I looked outside and saw the local high school football team waiting down in my front lawn. As soon as they saw me they scattered.
Practicallserious.com: Bad news, man. You can’t divorce her because she’s already dead. So are those football players. They were all on a bus that crashed into your wife’s car and both vehicles fell into the lake. The football players are now on the “other side,” and they’re trying to free your wife from a plane of existence to which she no longer belongs. Next time just let her go out the window. Let her be free.
Bob T.: Okay, so I took your advice and last night I let her go out the window to be with the football players. But then this morning she stumbles back into the house all jostled-looking and a goofy grin on her face. When she tried to sit down on the chair at the kitchen table she shrieked and rubbed her rear end. Explain this.
Practicallyserious.com: Cover all your bases. Make sure there isn’t a tack or anything sharp on the kitchen seat.
Bob T.: Haha. There was totally a thumbtack on the seat. That explains everything. Thanks man!
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