I wasn’t always perfect!! It’s true. Hard to admit or even fathom but this body took some work to achieve. Of course, this is all tongue in cheek….well part of it. In fact, just like most people there are times when I have a blemish or two. Yeah, it’s sad to say that at the age of thirty I haven’t quite gotten rid of my pubescent skin. It isn’t like I have zits all the time but every now and then one bundle of joy pops up and needs to be dealt with. I really don’t know what it is about the women in my life that seem to try to pick at the slight imperfection on this chiseled mass of twisted steel and sex appeal but if there is any hint of oil and dirt in a pore on this body my lady makes sure I know about it.

It isn’t like she walks by me and says, “Nice zit Jerk Face!” It isn’t anything like that, although she does call me Jerk more than by my first name of Stallion. It’s more like when I take a shower and she comes in to watch the droplets of water curve down my body, she grabs me and just when I think I’m going to get some serious hotdog to donut action, she shifts me towards the light and starts squeezing the living shit out of me. If I attempt to move or get away, she calls me every vagina name in the book. It isn’t good for my ego to squirm like a girl so I stand there, squint, curse, and wait for her to say, “Got it!” This usually is followed by an obscenity laced sentence that would make Andrew Dice Clay blush, followed by me running to my room to get a shirt on. This isn’t just my lady…I guess fiancé, news on that at another date, but I’ve had past relationships where the girls seem to get off seeing things shoot out of my body (other than my anaconda) and putting me through intense pain.

I guess this is it. I’m getting married and just like marriage, I will be squeezed through pain for the rest of my life. Maybe by the age of 40, I won’t have clogged pores. I probably won’t have a physique worthy of a Greek God either. That’s why people get divorced at 40, no physique and no zits. Shit.