Wangitude, stamina, prowess.

There. Got that out of the way.

As my three loyal readers know, the spousal unit is very ambivalent about being mentioned in The Big Adventure. He is flat out appalled that any portion of that part of our lives encompassed by the words "marital duties" might actually end up here because almost all our friends and neighbours read this.

So, in an effort to curb me, he issued the edict that any time I wrote about a subject that could fall under the topic of marital duties, the words "wangitude, stamina and prowess" had to be included. Why he thought these three words would actually evoke anything but glee in me remains One Of The Big Mysteries.

Which brings us to Viagra.

If you want to get the spousal unit's shorts in a knot, just run the latest Viagra ad.

Have you seen the one I'm talking about? The one where it looks like a whole suburb's worth of middle-aged men is running out their homes every morning practically doing gymnastics from joy?

I sweartogawd, the minute it begins, veins begin to throb in his neck.

Why this ad gets under his skin is Another Of The Big Mysteries, as far as I'm concerned. It makes no sense. I've been trying to get him to explain his irritation, but he can't put his finger on it. We took another run at it last night.

"It's not like you need Viagra yourself," I pointed out. I said that in the tone of voice that all women use to reassure Their One True Love that said One True Love is the Epitome Of All That Is Studly, Studliness Incarnate, the Lord of the Lay.

I may have laid it on just a bit too thick, sending his Sarcasm Meter into the "Danger Will Robinson" zone.

"That's because I have you," he retorted in that "no, really, I mean it" tone that implies the opposite of the words just spoken. I carefully ran that through my own Sarcasm Meter, doing a spectral analysis of words, tone, intent and facial expression. It was close, but it just missed sarcasm at the molecular level, registering as snarkiness. It was still enough to push my buttons. We had an argument. A heated argument. A heated argument for absolutely no discernable reason. Not that that has ever stopped me in the past, of course.

Now this is where I think it would be really, really good to have a home version of The Homeland Security Advisory System. As I see it, each of us should come equipped with a little ring, kind of like a mood ring (only Not A Mood Ring Because That's Just So Stupidly New Age) and by the colour you would know the fight threat level.

I think that if we had those rings, the spousal unit and I could have spotted that for no apparent reason things were heating up and avoided the completely pointless and silly argument that followed. Fortunately, one of us was mature enough to patch things up in the morning. I wish I could say that that mature person smart enough to make healing overtures was me, but I can't.

Oh yeah, I'm living proof that you can most definitely get older, but it's no guarantee that you'll get any wiser.

Uh, anyone know where I can buy A Homeland Security Advisory System Ring?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 97.01 miles (156.09 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers