Hold on one second.
I’m admiring this title.
Sometimes I’m brilliant.
On a related note:
This is not one of those times.
This post falls under the category of another ‘My Wife – She Taunts Me’ article.
For other versions of this, feel free to click here and here.
Don’t worry..this one doesn’t have Rachael Ray in it.
Thank God.
My wife, being a teacher, had a few days over the summer where she was alone.
Alone at home.
Alone at home without the kids.
* boing
You see where I’m going with this, right?
If so, let me know…the whole ‘Rachael Ray’ thing made my brain throw up.
I mean, hot…kinda…but she opens her mouth and all you want to do is punch her in the throat.
So where was I?
Oh yeah.
Nooners.
So, obviously, with me being a guy and having a penis and thinking about sex every seven seconds and OMG OMG I love Scarlett Johansson’s boobs and the hot redhead on the first floor wore a skirt today with hooker boots and great now I have to go masturbate.
(20 seconds later)
Okay..so with my wife being home alone, and a mere 7 miles away from my work…
I figured I’d shoot her up for a ‘nooner.’
Afternoon Delight, if you will.
..or..in my case…
I’m pathetic.
So, the first day my wife was home…I sent this email:
******************
To: Mrs. Moog
From: Mr. Moog
Nooner?
******************
That’s it.
Just a simple ‘nooner?’ request.
Then I sent it.
About 5 minutes later I get a phone call from her.
I figure she’s taking me up on this.
Me: “Heeeeeey.”
(I’m Fonzie)
Me: “You ready for your nooner?”
Wife: “Ugh. REALLY? I get ONE day all to myself. Just leave me alone.”
Um…
I’m guessing that’s a ‘not today, my love.’
In her defense, I really really suck.
But a week or so later…
BAM!
Another nooner opportunity arises!
Wife home..no kids.
Let’s give this another shot.
The email goes out (I save them in ‘Drafts’ for just such emergencies):
******************
To: Mrs. Moog
From: Mr. Moog
Nooner?
******************
And I wait.
5 minutes later…
No phone call.
1/2 hour later…
No phone call.
No return email, either.
Nothing.
She just…
IGNORED ME.
Jesus H. Christ.
WTF.
If Seinfeld had a Nooner Nazi I’d be the guy in line saying ‘Oh..oh…that nooner looks good…can I have that with a BJ, too? Oh..wait…maybe we’ll just skip the foreplay since I’m on lunch break..’ and he’d be all stern and angry and slamming his nooner spatulas and screaming “NO NOONER FOR YOU!!”
0-for-2.
So, the last time my wife was home alone for the summer without kids, I didn’t even bother.
I didn’t even mention it.
But she did.
I get home and get…
THIS:
Wife: “I was going to email you today to see if you wanted a nooner.”
* blink
Me: “REALLY?!”
Wife: “Then I realized that it was 12:15 so it was already too late.”
Then she laughed.
I laughed, too.
She’s really pretty funny.
But yeah…my wife…
She taunts me.
Mental Poo 