Here's how it usually goes for me...[internal monologue] "Wow, that's a nice ###. I wonder how much longer I can stare at this before my wife notices that I...""What, honey? No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. Hey, you want to stop off for a shaved as-um, I mean, ice?""Man, what I wouldn't give to squeeze that thing. I bet if I was single.... yeah, that's what she's looking for. She's tan, in shape, probably 19 or 20. She needs an out-of-shape 41 year old who likes fantasy football and 'Game of Thrones'. She'd probably enjoy watching me fall asleep on my side and having to reach down and scoop my sack out the front of my thighs because my scrotum is slowly losing its tensile strength. She'd probably find that SUPER hot...""Um, yeah.... cherimoya? Is that the sour pineapple flavor? Never mind, just give me the cherry lime. I love you too, darling....."
Well, uh I guess I, deep down, am feeling a little confused. I mean, suddenly, you get married, and you're supposed to be this entirely different guy. I don't feel different. I mean, take yesterday for example. We were out at the Olive Garden for dinner, which was lovely. And uh, I happen to look over at a certain point during the meal and see a waitress taking an order, and I found myself wondering what color her underpants might be. Her panties. Uh, odds are they are probably basic white, cotton, underpants. But I sort of think well maybe they're silk panties, maybe it's a thong. Maybe it's something really cool that I don't even know about. You know, and uh, and I started feeling…