A Bad Marriage Is Fattening
Can a bad marriage really be fattening? Yes it can! In my own bad marriage I went from 125 pounds to 275 pounds 20 years later. This is the story of how my unhappy marriage made me fat — and how I divorced my husband and moved on to a happier new life.

Curse Of The Redhead Riter: Part 2 Dynamite

I was at work on my memoir, A Bad Marriage Is Fattening, when I heard Paul’s agitated voice in the back of my mind.   “Joanie, I have to talk to you!”

I stopped writing and looked at Paul.  “When have you ever wanted to talk to me?”

“I need to speak to you about The Redhead Riter.  She placed a curse on me!”

“What type of a curse did she place on you?”

“You know perfectly well the curse she placed on me!  She wished my house would be crawling with locusts and frogs.”

“Paul – she was only joking.”

“No she wasn’t.”

Paul then proceeded to tell me this incredible story.  He and his wife, Desireé, went to sleep the night Redhead Riter had placed the curse on him.  Desireé wanted to make love.   So being a dutiful husband, Paul mounted her.  Only problem was Paul couldn’t get an erection.

Wanting to satisfy his wife, Paul started willing himself to get an erection when suddenly Desireé got extremely excited and started moaning passionately, “Ohhh, my God, Paul – don’t stop!  You’re amazing!  Absolutely amazing!  Don’t stop!  Keeping doing what you’re doing!  Ohhh, my God, Paul!”

Paul did not have the least idea what Desireé was so excited about because his penis was completely limp.  But he stayed on top of her while she wildly thrust her hips up and down.

“Do you love me?” Desireé whispered in Paul’s ear.

“You know I love you, pussycat,” Paul whispered back in Desireé’s ear.

I screamed at Paul, “How could you call Desireé pussycat when that was the name you called me?”

“I know, Joanie – but we’re not married anymore.”

“But I can’t believe that you call her the same name that you called me.”

“Do you want to argue with me or do you want me to continue on with my story?”

“Okay, go on with your story, but I would think out of respect for what we once shared you would have found another name to call your present wife.”

“Respect?  You’re a good one to talk about respect.  Don’t even get me started on respect, Joanie.  How respectful is it for you to blab to the world about our marriage?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, but thankfully you have no readers – so I know that you’re only talking to yourself.”

“Paul, why are we arguing?”

“Because that’s all we ever do when we’re together is argue.”

“Okay, just continue on with you story and forget that I ever said anything about you calling Desireé pussycat.”

“Where was I?”

“You were mounted on top of Desireé.  Your penis was limp.  And she was getting it on with you like you were God’s gift to women.”

“Oh yeah, so then she said, ‘Paul, talk dirty to me!’  And I was taken aback because Desireé had never asked me to talk dirty to her before.  So I whispered in her ear, ‘Dirty, dirty, dirty!’  And she screamed, ‘No!  Talk dirty to me like you’re a man on fire!’”

But before I could say a word Desireé let out an ear-piercing scream and climaxed.  “Oh, my God, Paul — you were dynamite tonight!  Simply dynamite!” Desireé said happily and then she fell asleep.

“For a long time I laid in bed wondering about Desireé’s strange orgasm — and then I felt something clammy hopping around under the covers.  I quickly turned on the nightlight, threw back the covers and that’s when I saw this frog staring back at me.  ‘Honey,’ I said to Desireé, ‘I think I just found your dynamite. . .’”

(To be continued. . .)

13 Responses to “Curse Of The Redhead Riter: Part 2 Dynamite”

  1. Okay. I finally stopped laughing long enough to write a comment.
    I was so in suspense trying to figure out just how Paul could ever manage taking care of his “Desireé” and her need for intimacy when he had failed you so miserably. Then I could not believe he said the P word..OMG! (Not that one…) Pussycat. How dare he…sheesh!
    And I am glad you blab to us, so shut up, Paul! And no Paul, you were not God’s gift to women…(But aren’t you glad you could hand the goose over to her in the end? Cause you, my friend, are much too good for him!)
    Tears ran down my cheek with the dirty, dirty, dirty…:)…and then…came… Dynamite the frog…
    I thought I would have to call 911 to revive me…you are killing me….ha ha ha ha ha!
    He better hope the RHR does not curse him with the emerods…
    Love it!

    People out there, you better follow this blog…it’s getting hot in here!

    • Bev, for me to hear that you found this post funny is pure music to my ears — especially since I was dealing with a subject as touchy as sex. I could only hope that I was not offending anyone with my humor.

      I am so happy that you did not have to call 911 to revive yourself. Believe me I am not trying to kill you with laughter. I need all the readers that I can get to reach my goal of 25,000 readers. So hang in there Bev and don’t expire on me! Remember there is still Curse Of The Redhead Riter: Part 3 to read which I am working on right now!

      • Ok, just so I will be able to endure the suspense, I will begin an exercise program to give me something to dwell on until the next post and so I will be healthy enough to not die from the laughter.

        25,000 followers…I can see it happening!

  2. Oh my Joanie, this is absolutely hilarious. I’m sitting here beside my son trying to not bust out in laughter so as to not get him asking what I’m reading. My side is hurting and I have a catch in my throat where I did to just out a good ole loud laugh.

    This isn’t true, you know, about NOT having any readers coz in Reds community you have them and at this pace you’re audience will grow by leaps and bounds. Did I say that, really?

    What funny, funny stuff!

    • Cathy, as I told Bev, and I know that I am repeating myself, it is pure music to my ears when I hear from a reader that they found a post that I wrote funny. It means a lot to me to hear from you as a reader — and I appreciate all the kind words that you said about my writing.

      When I started writing my blog, January 1st 2010, nobody had even heard of me as a writer. I could not even get a literary agent to read my work. (I still can’t — but as my readership grows, I am hopping that will change.) So I decided to put my writing on the Internet and reach the readers that I wanted to read my work.

      It has been the most exciting experience of my life to finally have my words read and to be discovered as a writer! So I want to thank you and everyone else who has been reading A Bad Marriage Is Fattening. It lets me know that I am no longer writing in the dark.

  3. OMG Joan, this is hilarious! I had to read it to Larry and he NEVER laughs out loud unless it is REALLY funny……and he did. It is good stuff………could be a movie. But I wonder who would play you and Paul.

    You don’t need 25,000 followers, just one good publishing company. It only takes one to like it. I am sure you heard all the stories about Harry Potter and how they told the author not to quit her day job. Can’t wait for your next post!

    • Katlupe, I am so happy that I made you and Larry laugh — and Larry laugh out loud! Now if I can only do it again with Part 3!

      Yes, I know that it only takes one good publishing company to get A Bad Marriage Is Fattening published — but where is that publisher? So far I haven’t heard of any publishers reading my blog! 🙂

  4. Okay, so I’m stuck on the “pussycat” thing. It made me wonder if my husband calls me by the same names he called his other relationships. I bet he does and I think I will puke! I know him well enough that he is not that original nor would he admit it. I’m never having sex with him again. Next time he asks, I’m simply going to tell him it is thanks to your post. You can call me Monk now.

    • Redhead Riter, you don’t know how bad I feel about ruining your sex life. But I can’t call you Monk Redhead Riter. Even if you are celibate you will not qualify to be called a monk. I’m certain of that, because I just looked the word up in the dictionary to find out the exact definition of a monk, and it said, “A man who is a member of a religious community living in a monastery.” As far as I know you are definitely not a man.

      Would you settle for being called Nun Redhead Riter? I looked that word up and it means, “A woman who belongs to a religious order.” You don’t belong to a religious order either, as far as I know — so now I am totally confused as to what to call you! 🙂

  5. Dear Joan, It is only a matter of time until you have your first best seller out! I am hoping it will be soon. And what a great movie this will make! You are a very gifted writer, and I’m so glad to call you friend!

  6. OMG, I almost couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard. You are an excellent writer!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: