Tuesday, April 20, 2010

a golden (shower) oldie...but a goodie...

Apologies for the re-hashed post here...but some people haven't read it...and it needed updating and including in this important body of work...so bite me...


Now, while we’re at it, I may as well get all the urinary skeletons out of the water-closet…
My wife, whom I shall call ‘Lady Fingers’ (LF) and I preferred to sleep in our birthday suits.
Just as in our waking lives, for the majority of the night I was restless, disturbed and burned like the coals in a furnace; she was for the most part motionless, content and colder than polar bear shit. And by cold I don’t mean her general demeanor; she had poor circulation and a core body-temperature of about 75 degrees Fahrenheit. One of her favourite nocturnal moves was to plunge an icy hand between my thighs to warm it up, which for a sleeping man, generates a surprise-coefficient similar to that of having your prostate examined with a Popsicle.
Also, a few months into our marriage, LF developed a habit of going to the toilet for a tinkle in the middle of the night. A quick 4am pit-stop, no flushing (in consideration of my light sleeping habits no doubt) after which she would return to the bed, apparently un-wiped, throw a leg over my thigh and re-attach herself to my body like a heat-seeking oyster. At first I thought it was cute; the tiny wet spot created during the docking manoeuvre didn’t bother me. After all, what’s a little bit of wee between friends…
Then it happened again.
And again.
And again and again and again…
Finally I’d had enough; after yet another dabbing I casually inquired, ‘Is there any fucking danger of wiping your cunt, you filthy animal ??’
LF looked at me a little stunned, eyes defocused, claiming ‘There was no toilet paper.’
‘What the fuck are you talking about; there are mountains of the stuff in there.’
‘Well I didn’t see any.’

At this point I should mention that we had two toilets. One was in the main bathroom down the hallway and the other, substantially smaller was situated just off our bedroom; a 1.5-metre by 1-metre micro-bathroom with just a toilet and micro-basin inside.
The next night, as had become her wont, LF rose from the bed at precisely 4 am, waking me in the process and trotted off to do her thing. That afternoon, I’d purchased six-dozen rolls of toilet paper, half of which I’d stacked along one wall of the micro-bathroom, the other half of which I’d placed in the bathtub next to the toilet in the main bathroom.
Meanwhile, I sat in bed and waited for LF’s return, mentally daring her to come back with a set of wet beef-curtains and drape them across my thigh. After ten minutes there was still no sign of her…
Now feeling like a wee myself, I slid out of bed and headed off down the hallway to the micro-bathroom, which I found to be unoccupied. On completion of my urinal duties, I decided to visit the main bathroom and see whether LF was alright. Amazingly, she wasn’t in there either; the rest of the apartment appeared to be in darkness too.
Puzzled, I went into the lounge room; more darkness.
It was then I noticed a faint glow coming from the kitchen…
Figuring LF was making herself a something to drink and feeling like a bit of a snack myself, I crossed the lounge-room floor and entered the kitchen, where to my utter disbelief I found my wife having a pee in the fridge. There before me was the love of my life, stark naked, semi-squatting, her gorgeous ass thrust through the wide-open fridge door…taking a piss on the vegetable draws.
‘What the fuck are you doing, darling ??’ I asked…more than a little shocked.
‘What does it look like ??’ she replied, completely unfazed.
‘It looks like you’re pissing in the fridge,’ I continued, trying to remain calm.
‘There’s no toilet paper again,’ she informed me, glassy-eyed, unmoved.
‘I see…I’ll just go and get some then.’
‘Thanks…and can you please NOT close the door.’
‘What door…there is no door on the kitchen, darling.’
‘Well just don’t close it or the light will go off.’
‘OK, I’ll just get you that toilet paper now.’
‘Thank you’

At this point three things became clear: firstly my wife was apparently a sleep-walker, secondly the slightly discoloured liquid I had been removing from the drip-tray under the vegetable drawers with a ‘Wettex’ for the past two weeks was not quite as harmless as I’d previously thought and lastly…I was not going to make myself a salad sandwich that evening.
I’ve always wanted to get this story off my chest; if only to provide an answer to the age-old question, ‘Fingers…why is there toilet paper next to the milk on your fridge door’…

24 comments:

Spiky Zora Jones said...

fingers babe: Oh my, I've seen this before. I walked into my son's (the prince) bedroom cause I heard a noise and when I turned the light on he was taking a pee in his toy chest. He shook the little thang (he was like 5 years old)and trodded off back into bed.

So did you keep your food in the restroom and put a port-a-potty where the frig used to be?

Well you should have.

later sweetie babe. xxx

blinder said...

u funny :)

I would have turned the aircraft landing lights on her...

xl said...

Sleepwalking wife? It's been done, Shakespeare!

Memphis Steve said...

There was tons of good stuff here!

"Colder than polar bear shit"

"having your prostate examined with a Popsicle"

"heat-seeking oyster"

"set of wet beef-curtains"

This is all good shit!

As for the fridge pissing - AUGH!!!!

De Campo said...

I do love catching up on the classics.

I also love the constant reminders of why I should avoid marriage.

Transmission received.

fingers said...

Spiker: Wow, that must be like having deja-wee.

blinder: Welcome to TWG. Dunno about landing lights but some aircraft floor-lighting might have been helpful.

xl: Very clever, mate. My calling her Lady Fingers was a pure coincidence too. Spooky, huh.

MS: I'd trade them all for your line about the gay men with women's names.

DeC: No need to thank me, mate. Just knowing my life is serving as a warning to others is all the thanks I need...

Jayne said...

Classic Fingers, pure classic!

Ute said...

I have read this before, but it's still as funny as the first time I read it!

Makes the 'mystery bag' of goo in the bottom of my fridge look lame. ;o)

shawkshop said...

Just another indication that, Fiskers, you are running very low on good material. Rehash ... Reposts... Oldbutgoodies... over.
Your three part series on your ex should have been your epilog. There's another tale that has clearly been heard a few thousand times before, and with every telling slowly you believe it's the truth.
Classic Fiskers
Good shit
Shit being the operative word.
xxoo

fingers said...

Jiney: Thanks, it's a lazy post but I needed to put it back in context. I'll post again shortly to make up for this regrettable duplicity.

Ute: I found a bag of liquid in my fridge recently. Way up the back behind something with a 5000 year use-by date. I think it may have been a vegetable. Who knows.

SS: You're killing me, you annoyingly blogless, anonymous sack of shit !!! You're either that no-talent hack Mountjoy, the one with his lips pressed frimly on Dom's ass all day...or Vic, although I seem to remember killing you in a battle of wits on the 'De Nom' post...it's not Sian, nowhere near clever and pointed enough for her/him...
UNSHEATH YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY YOU HELMET...

Fanny said...

Loving this story again.

UBERMOUTH said...

I have to admit,peeinng in the fridge is cute[when its someone elses'].Cute ending- the toilet paper beside the milk.

EmmaK said...

This gets better and better! Right now I am still busy trying to contact the adult diaper people to sponsor your book - maybe we could sell your book with free samples attached. What do you think?
I've got my quote ready for the book jacket:
"A pissing good read" Emma Kaufmann, author

mutleythedog said...

This also happened to me but it was 'number twos' in my briefcase....

Spiky Zora Jones said...

fingers babe...sweetie, you can say that again. hummmm, hey, didn't I write this comment before and didn't you reply in the same way?

WOW...this is deja-vu all over again.

ciao honey...xxx

Ms Smack said...

You are a very patient man!

I am also curious as to the masked commenter visiting you!!

Write to Donny and ask?

fingers said...

Fanny: Yes, it's destined to become a classic.

Uber: She was pretty cute sometimes.

Emmak: I have often been accused of marrying that girl simply for the material.

Mutley: Mate, that's more of a message. Like a horse head in your bed.

Spiker: Did you just take a wee on my blog. FFS...what a mess.

Smack: I lost contact with Mountjoy ages ago. Sadly...I liked him too. It could also be Garry...Vic's longtime associate...

Ms Smack said...

I probably have his email address somewhere, if you want me to search for it.

He got busy with the birth of this third child (and first daughter) and with work, etc.

I'm not sure he could be bothered though, and honestly, it looks different to his type of insult.

His was better!

Katherine Clapper-Cutterbuck said...

my favourite post revisited!

thanks smoopie!!!

Madam Z said...

I laughed so hard at this post that I almost wet my pants! Now excuse me, while I go to the refrigerator.

Spiky Zora Jones said...

fingers babe...Yes...i took a wee on your blog. I figured since it was the norm to wee in your bed, your refrigerator...what the hell, so why not your blog?

Plus your cat litter box was full.

You know I think your ex-wife had something there. It kind of felt dirty and bad...but more like in a dirty bad good way, you know? But hey, don't worry...there was no dripping here. I wiped my...

*blushes*

Tee-hee, you know...on you rug. Gee, now I know why dogs drag themselves on the carpets...it's fun too. Dude, don't knock it till you've tried it.

later baby. xxx

The Red Setter said...

Jesus Mary and Joseph. That's amazing.

Electro-Kevin said...

She sounds really really cute. And you dumped her ?

What happened to the '...in sickness and in health ...' bit ?

Besides. Woman's wee is not the same as man's wee. I've heard its what you Ausies make Foster's out of - it certainly tastes like it. So what's XXXX stand for ? What's it made out of ? P-I-S-S ?

UBERMOUTH said...

Sorry the above was me. I was so excited to be trumping you that I forgot to spell check.

Fingers...do you realize I.AM.YOUR DESTINY? Scoff if you must[ I am not so thrilled either] but it seems we have both been web hunting for some private paradise in the same area of Canada. I kid you not!

And btw I followed your island link on Spiky's and have put an offer in on your island. [sorry but real estate is a cutthroat business and if you snooze,you lose!]

I will sell you half of MY island for $100,000!*

NOW do you recognize my Jewess?

* I will be developing the hell out of my half so it won't be a Brandonsque private retreat for long. [sorry but that lush,secluded island screams to be over developed and you know how I like to please the masses].

But think how much all your acgreage will be worth in such a concrete jungle? And all[half] yours for $150,000!

Let's take over the natural world and decimate it, Fingers! It'll be fun AND profitable.