…just like twin-peaks and men with a steady urine stream.

It wasn’t that long ago that I declared myself permanent victor in the M-FUF competition.  I swiped that trophy away from my love monkey and vowed there was never a chance of it returning to his side of the bed.

I should have known better.  You never, ever, say “never.”

He’s been sleeping with the trophy tucked under his pillow the last few nights for reasons that I could, but shouldn’t, explain here.  It’s his story to tell.  Unfortunately for you, he does not see the value in blogging.

Let’s just say it involves Munchausen-by-proxy, extortion, and a hollistic medicine that  grows on the east side of a goat turd found only in the Cambodian mountains.  I’ll never get that trophy back now.

But then again…