"Major vs. Minor Stupidity"

(Written by ChristopherK2 8/1/11 for the Uglier Marylanders blog)

An old saying goes something like, "We are all stupid for five minutes a day. Wisdom consists of not exceeding that limit."

I've always thought that a bit simplistic because it doesn't distinguish between levels of stupidity. Shouldn't a major stupidity count, say, five times as much as a minor one?

I'm sure you're asking yourself... Minor? Major? Huh?

Examples of minor stupidities include spilling bleach on a shirt, arriving at work two hours late just for giggles, putting salt in your freshwater fish tank, and lusting after one of Zeeke's Zombies.

Pretty bad, huh? But there's worse, FAR worse, my friends. Here's the sad, sad story of my most recent Major Stupidity.

My fiancee, Pamela, and I were about to head to the local swimming pool for the afternoon. She came out of the bathroom dressed in a lovely new two-piece swimming suit. She twirled to model it and asked me those words every guy dreads hearing, "Does this make my ass look fat?"
I thought back to how well I was prepared for this moment, all the training over my life from various women, the long discussions about it with other men, and...

Then she said "Well???" Apparently I had been fondly recalling my preparations without ever actually saying the word, and was just sitting there with that Dead Trout Look. I quickly blurted out "NO!!!" But it was way too late; I was toast.

Her quick "That's IT??? Just a 'No'?" started me sweating heavily.

At this point I was only in Minor Stupidity territory. But I then forgot another old adage ("When you've dug yourself into a hole, the first rule is 'Stop Digging'"). So I quickly moved into Major Stupidity level.

When under stress, I often go into Hyperbole Mode. So I spewed out, "Sorry dear, I was just mesmerized by your mounting glory of a derriere."

I might as well have kicked her dog. She went into THAT look that says "You ain't getting ANY anytime soon!" and snarled, "You think my ass looks like a Mounting Glory?!?!?!?"

In hindsight, it was really a lot like watching Eddie Murray go after a high fast ball. But at the time, I had other concerns. I had nowhere to go and nothing worthwhile to say. So I apologized profusely and promised to buy her some very expensive chocolate.

We eventually made it to the swimming pool and just to rub my nose in it, every time she headed to the diving board--as she walked away--she wiggled her butt a bit and tugged the bottom of her suit over the non-existent flab.

She's a size 6-8 and so has a delightful butt. And I'm sometimes Majorly Stupid.

I would, however, appreciate any help y'all can provide. It would be great if each of you emailed her at PamelasAssDoesNOTLookFatInThat@aol.com with some kind words. And Guys, please add something disgusting like "I want to do you right HERE, right NOW" so I look like comparatively less of a pig. Thanks...

Oh, and I have the same question for y'all that Pamela had for me on the way home from the pool: What the heck is a "mounting glory"??? I hate it when random neurons fire in the deep recesses of my brain.