Because Nothing Says "Sexy" Like Dead Cats


Last night Curtis and I were cuddled up on the couch, watching "Hoarders." This particular episode featured Vula, an elderly lady who had hoarded so much junk - including over 30 sickly cats - that the cleanup team had to wear hazmat suits just to clear the stuff out. Everything was covered in poop and hair and Lord only knows what else; the place made my house on its worst day look as sterile as an operating room. (Check out a 30-second episode preview here if you can stomach it!)

I sat there, watching in horror as the workers peeled the crusty and decaying bodies of dead cats and kittens from the layers of rubble. I'm not an easily grossed-out person. I mean, dirty diapers have been part of my daily repertoire for five straight years now. But this was making my stomach churn.

And in the midst of all this, just as I'm sitting here slack-jawed in disbelief at all this filth, Curtis pulls me into his lap and starts making out with me.

Um ... okay. But I mean ... really?

I wouldn't exactly call this a complaint. I mean, I'm thankful that my husband finds me attractive enough that even an especially repulsive episode of "Hoarders" doesn't dampen his desire to jump my bones. And I do love his attention. But I don't understand. At all.

I'm not saying it takes flowers and candles and champagne and chocolate covered strawberries and music and a life-sized cutout of Johnny Depp to get me in the mood for some lovin', y'all. I'm not that difficult to seduce. But I do need to be in the mood. And call me frigid, but watching people remove dead cats and poop from someone's house doesn't exactly put me in a sexy frame of mind. Neither do some of the other scenarios during which Curtis has pounced upon me by surprise ... like when I'm walking around in sweatpants and a grungy T-shirt, with leg hair so long it's starting to resemble dreadlocks. It baffles me. Doesn't he want to at least wait until I'm, you know, clean or something?

This isn't uncommon, and I'm pretty sure it isn't limited to just my husband. I think all dudes are, in some capacity, horndogs waiting for the right opportunity to strike. But what I want to know is exactly how the "right opportunity" can occur in the middle of ... anything. Even total, blatant, disgusting un-sexiness. And dead cats.

Thoughts?    

Comments

  1. I concur with you conclusion that they must just be horndogs. Or the try to make out while I am really laughing and enjoying a show, seriously I know my laughter makes you feel like it's the right time but, I'm really liking this show could you wait until a commerical to cash in on my good mood.

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  2. All I can think about is that leg hair. Gross. What you're wearing doesn't matter. But yeah, if I'm grossed out by something on TV, I'm not going to make a move.

    Shave your legs. Geez.

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  3. I do not understand this at all. Wilzie is the same way and I just look at him with my "You have GOT to be kidding" face. Which oddly enough, doesn't even deter him...

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  4. I say, be happy you're gettin' some!! Nowadays with three kids, off BC, and hubz working on his masters and me about to start school again...there's not alot of time or energy for much of anything! lol But yes...they do choose some of the strangest times to make a move.

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  5. I agree completely! I deal with it too and I just don't get it. I have to at least feel somewhat clean in order for someone to touch me but my hubby doesn't seem to get that.

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  6. Yep, we are all hounds.... is true!

    And Hoarders freaks me out. Like really freaks me out!

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  7. I guess when the mood strikes, the mood strikes. It may distract him from whatever else is going on, and that's why he doesn't see the leg-dreadlocks?

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  8. I saw that one last night too... for the 3rd time. Why? But yes, almost all men can get in the mood at the any time or place.

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  9. You just described my BF, EXACTLY!

    It must a man thing.

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  10. I don't really have "thoughts" so much, just laughs. Your visuals here are slaying me. Men are freakshows, that's all there is to it.

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  11. No kidding? When I'm all showered and groomed, is that when he's in the mood? Nope! It seems like he waits until I'm going home from a 24 hour shift, in my work clothes, all unshowered...that apparently is sexy. Although still not as sexy as dead cats.

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  12. barf! the show! the timing! UGH!!!!!!! but at least you know he loves you and is attracted to you in good times and bad! and during awful tv moments!

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  13. I read your second sentence as "Her name was Vulva..." and lost it right there. I guess if her parents actually had named her something like that it might help explain the kind of mental torment that leads one not to notice animal corpses cluttering up the carpet.

    And yeah...my husband can be on death's doorstep unable to move...except when it comes to sex. Um...yeah...do a load of laundry and get back to me.

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  14. My hubby and I watched 4 episodes of Hoarders in a row and while did not make him horny, he did start cleaning the bathrooms which I thought was awesome.

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  15. ugh...the thought of the dead cats makes me want to hurl. The hubs was apparently watching the show, but thinking about gettin' his groove on...therefore the whole cat thing never registered. Cuz, you know, men can only think with one head at a time.

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  16. No idea. But too funny.

    LisaDay

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  17. I dunno about horndogs. Okay fine. Yeh, pretty much. But your husband's freaky ideas aren't coming from the image of dead cats, or even in spite of it. See, chances are if you asked him what show you were watching when he jumped your bones he's blink at you for a while and then go "We were watching tv?" That is of course if you acquiesced to his sweet moves. If you turned him down flat the memory is probably etched in his mind. But the truth is, before he hopped on your bonewagon he probably was off in sexy land all by his lonesome. If you're sitting there thinking about jumpin the wife, chances are, you're not gonna notice a nuclear attack warning, let alone some lame cats. Come to mention it, maybe someone said something about pussy-cats and the ball started rolling. It doesn't take much, but once that channel is switched on, not alot else gets our attention. I guarantee at least 50 dudes die every year because they fail to notice the emergency broadcast system telling them that a tsumani/earthquake/forest-fire/alien invasion is about to land on their house. Why? because their wife walked across the room wearing that ratty ass blue tank top that fits a little tight. Women are multitaskers by nature, so the idea of only being able to entertain a single thought at a time is foreign to you. I learned this after the 200th time my wife thought I could actually hear her telling me what I needed to get from the store while I was fixing something or writing. "You never told me that!" -"Yes I did! remember, you were pulling the drain out of the sink and I said..." But the truth is, we can only process one. thing. at. a. time. And yes, so sorry, but 80% of the time the single thing we are processing is a thought about you. And some whip cream. And some cowboy boots. And those blue striped panties. And a mechanical bull. But you know what? You should be happy that list starts with you. Cause you ladies are the reason we do, literally, everything we do in life.

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  18. That is so funny. I shake my head as I say that because Aiden is the exact same way. I agree that most men probably are. And I watched that episode and wanted to vomit all over the place...which would still be cleaner than her house.

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  19. Yep. Mine's the same. I think your magic words that started it all off were "cuddled up on the couch". Isn't that pretty much an invitation to sexy business? At least, I think that's how they see. Us? We just like cuddling up on the damn couch!

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