So lately my husband hasn't been quite himself. I attributed most of it to stress. He's usually kind, attentive, and confident in himself. He's a strong, powerful man, and a sentient lover. When he makes love, he has a way of making a girl feel like a princess and a whore, all at the same time. It's intoxicating. But lately he's been distant, almost detached.
Well last night we were halfway through a second hour of marathon love making when ol' hung-hank said he needed a break. Uncharacteristic of him, no doubt, but I acquiesced, as I was in need of some icing down myself.
A few minutes passed, and as I lay there anticipating the coming bliss, I heard what sounded like a bic lighter being sparked. Not long after that I heard some muffled coughing and caught a whiff of what smelled like a dead skunk.
It might have been the marathon love making that killed him, it might have been the marijuana cigarette, it might have been the frying pan to the back of the head. I don't know, I'm not a doctor. What I do know is that before he started hanging out here, he was a good man, and you all made him into a monster!
His blood is on the hands of the people of this forum. Well, not his literal blood; that's on the frying pan. But his figurative blood is dripping from the hands of the people here!