There are two mysteries in life which seem impossible to solve. The first is, of course: Who put the bop in the bop sh-bop sh-bop? Many theories circulate, but the answer remains unknown. The second puzzle is this: At the conclusions of Cialis TV commercials, why are a silhouetted man and a silhouetted woman pictured side by side in separate bathtubs?
For the uninitiated, the medication Cialis can help a limp man restore the lead in his proverbial pencil. The commercials depict various middle-aged couples in moments of shared activity, such as watching meteors together from their porch swing or watching a football game on TV from their couch. Their collective eyes meet suddenly in a moment of unexpected rapture, and we imagine that they fall to the floorboards where he goes at her like a nail gun to a roof shingle. Their happy interlude is made possible by their friends at Eli Lilly and Company. The dude had talked to his doctor and, well, he was mighty ready "when the moment is right."
To drive his lead point home, the dude took some risks: headache, indigestion, back pain, muscle aches, flushing, and stuffy or runny nose. A hangnail could happen. There's also a chance of vision or hearing loss, but when "the moment is right" the tool bag requires only certain tools, so to speak. Men are advised to consult their doctors if they get an erection that lasts longer than four hours. By extension, they should also be advised to stay away from public places.
Which brings to mind a story: A film buff had been waiting weeks to see a renowned French film. When the film finally premiered in his city, he rushed downtown and got in line to buy a ticket. Now, the film buff was an unusual sort as he had a pet chicken who went everywhere with him, including, on this very day, to the movies. Carrying his hen in his arms, he reached the ticket booth, but the ticket seller took one look and told the man he couldn't come into the theater with a chicken, of all things, and refused to let him in.
The film buff was crestfallen as he was so looking forward to seeing the movie. But a bright idea dawned and he went around the corner and stuffed the chicken down his pants. Back in line, he made his way to the ticket booth again and, after the ticket seller looked him up and down, he got a ticket and made his way in. Our film buff waltzed happily into the crowded theater and took a seat next to two old women.
During the previews, the man's chicken, as you can imagine, started getting restless and made a quiet ruckus. The film buff concluded that his chicken needed some air, so he unzipped his zipper and the chicken immediately poked his head out, now very content, happy to be getting oxygen.
A few minutes later, the woman next to the film buff turned to her friend and said, "You won't believe this, Martha, but the man next to me? He has his thing sticking out."
To which Martha said, "Oh well, Agnes, if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all."
To which Agnes replied, "That may be so, Martha, but that guy's pecker is pecking away at my popcorn."
It's a mystery to me how people, after they hear this, can just sit there like a block of cement. Not even a smile. Listen, it's one of the great jokes of all time! If you just sat there like a bag of sand, please see your doctor now.
Anyway, it's a safe bet the film buff had not taken Cialis as there would have been very limited space in his pants for a chicken. It would be responsible for Eli Lilly and Company to add the caution that persons with an erection lasting longer then four hours should steer clear of bumping into members of an unsuspecting public. Panic could ensue.
Which brings to mind something that happened to me in Ankara, Turkey, in 1968. Then French president, Charles de Gaulle, was making a State visit to the Turkish capital, and would be arriving by open motorcade downtown in a great welcoming celebration. So my high school buddies, Jay and Roger, and I decided to head down for a glimpse of the renowned general.
There were thousands of people lining Ataturk Boulevard. As I am a short guy, it was impossible for me to see de Gaulle's limousine behind several lines of street spectators as it slowly made its way along the parade route. When I complained, Roger, who was a tall guy, invited me to jump on his back. So I piggy-backed aboard where I got a clear view of de Gaulle as he waved to the throng from atop his back seat, decked out in his fine military attire and his signature French Legion cap.
In that instant, I became distracted by a hard and rhythmic thumping on my butt. I turned my head and came face-to-face with a Turk who was grinning wildly at me, a Cheshire cat with upper and lower rows of gleaming golden teeth. Hoisted up on Roger as I was, he had had a direct shot at me, and as everyone's eyes were trained on de Gaulle, he treated himself to an exhilarating and too-good-to-be-true humping.
I coughed forth a profane oath, dismounted Roger, shoved aside my perpetrator, and fled like a track star up the sidewalk. Jay and Roger raced after me before Jay caught up and grabbed me by both shoulders. With bulging eyes, he stammered into my face, "You. Won't. Believe. What. Just. Happened. To. Me." Oh, yes I did. I knew precisely. With a boner running amuck, panic had ensued.
That was long before erectile dysfunction medication. I doubt if the gold-toothed humper would have had any need for Cialis. He took full advantage when the moment was right: in this instance, when young American tushes stuck out in the crowd like Charlie de Gaulle. For his part, the unmolested Roger took great delight in what had happened to us there on Ataturk Boulevard, and when he would pass Jay or me in the high school halls, Roger would shout out, "Charlie's comin'! Watch out! Charlie's comin'!"
Think not that I mock those poor men (and their partners) who suffer from chronic limpness. All lovers need to rub each other. But back to the original question, what in the world do Cialis advertisers mean with those his and hers bathtubs?
As we know all too well, medication users are advised to call their doctors if their erections last more than four hours. And if they are at all socially responsible, they'll also stay home, as I've explained, to prevent public commotion. But what about that guy whose four-hour clock has not yet chimed, the poor keyed-up sap, marooned at home with his lover, who must somehow manage three hours with his well-sharpened pencil? What to do with the poor thing before it poops out? Well, as they say, if the shoe fits…
The only conclusion is that the Cialis bathtubs provide therapy to over-used muscles. After long and brutal football games, players ease themselves into ice baths to soothe their bruises and mangled muscles. Football games run about three hours, three hours of punishing attacks and twisted acrobatics and contorted positions, over and over and over again. Similar, I suppose, to lovers making a three-hour beast with two backs.
Those bathtubs, therefore, must be full of ice. Case closed. You're welcome.
For the uninitiated, the medication Cialis can help a limp man restore the lead in his proverbial pencil. The commercials depict various middle-aged couples in moments of shared activity, such as watching meteors together from their porch swing or watching a football game on TV from their couch. Their collective eyes meet suddenly in a moment of unexpected rapture, and we imagine that they fall to the floorboards where he goes at her like a nail gun to a roof shingle. Their happy interlude is made possible by their friends at Eli Lilly and Company. The dude had talked to his doctor and, well, he was mighty ready "when the moment is right."
To drive his lead point home, the dude took some risks: headache, indigestion, back pain, muscle aches, flushing, and stuffy or runny nose. A hangnail could happen. There's also a chance of vision or hearing loss, but when "the moment is right" the tool bag requires only certain tools, so to speak. Men are advised to consult their doctors if they get an erection that lasts longer than four hours. By extension, they should also be advised to stay away from public places.
Which brings to mind a story: A film buff had been waiting weeks to see a renowned French film. When the film finally premiered in his city, he rushed downtown and got in line to buy a ticket. Now, the film buff was an unusual sort as he had a pet chicken who went everywhere with him, including, on this very day, to the movies. Carrying his hen in his arms, he reached the ticket booth, but the ticket seller took one look and told the man he couldn't come into the theater with a chicken, of all things, and refused to let him in.
The film buff was crestfallen as he was so looking forward to seeing the movie. But a bright idea dawned and he went around the corner and stuffed the chicken down his pants. Back in line, he made his way to the ticket booth again and, after the ticket seller looked him up and down, he got a ticket and made his way in. Our film buff waltzed happily into the crowded theater and took a seat next to two old women.
During the previews, the man's chicken, as you can imagine, started getting restless and made a quiet ruckus. The film buff concluded that his chicken needed some air, so he unzipped his zipper and the chicken immediately poked his head out, now very content, happy to be getting oxygen.
A few minutes later, the woman next to the film buff turned to her friend and said, "You won't believe this, Martha, but the man next to me? He has his thing sticking out."
To which Martha said, "Oh well, Agnes, if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all."
To which Agnes replied, "That may be so, Martha, but that guy's pecker is pecking away at my popcorn."
It's a mystery to me how people, after they hear this, can just sit there like a block of cement. Not even a smile. Listen, it's one of the great jokes of all time! If you just sat there like a bag of sand, please see your doctor now.
Anyway, it's a safe bet the film buff had not taken Cialis as there would have been very limited space in his pants for a chicken. It would be responsible for Eli Lilly and Company to add the caution that persons with an erection lasting longer then four hours should steer clear of bumping into members of an unsuspecting public. Panic could ensue.
Which brings to mind something that happened to me in Ankara, Turkey, in 1968. Then French president, Charles de Gaulle, was making a State visit to the Turkish capital, and would be arriving by open motorcade downtown in a great welcoming celebration. So my high school buddies, Jay and Roger, and I decided to head down for a glimpse of the renowned general.
There were thousands of people lining Ataturk Boulevard. As I am a short guy, it was impossible for me to see de Gaulle's limousine behind several lines of street spectators as it slowly made its way along the parade route. When I complained, Roger, who was a tall guy, invited me to jump on his back. So I piggy-backed aboard where I got a clear view of de Gaulle as he waved to the throng from atop his back seat, decked out in his fine military attire and his signature French Legion cap.
In that instant, I became distracted by a hard and rhythmic thumping on my butt. I turned my head and came face-to-face with a Turk who was grinning wildly at me, a Cheshire cat with upper and lower rows of gleaming golden teeth. Hoisted up on Roger as I was, he had had a direct shot at me, and as everyone's eyes were trained on de Gaulle, he treated himself to an exhilarating and too-good-to-be-true humping.
I coughed forth a profane oath, dismounted Roger, shoved aside my perpetrator, and fled like a track star up the sidewalk. Jay and Roger raced after me before Jay caught up and grabbed me by both shoulders. With bulging eyes, he stammered into my face, "You. Won't. Believe. What. Just. Happened. To. Me." Oh, yes I did. I knew precisely. With a boner running amuck, panic had ensued.
That was long before erectile dysfunction medication. I doubt if the gold-toothed humper would have had any need for Cialis. He took full advantage when the moment was right: in this instance, when young American tushes stuck out in the crowd like Charlie de Gaulle. For his part, the unmolested Roger took great delight in what had happened to us there on Ataturk Boulevard, and when he would pass Jay or me in the high school halls, Roger would shout out, "Charlie's comin'! Watch out! Charlie's comin'!"
Think not that I mock those poor men (and their partners) who suffer from chronic limpness. All lovers need to rub each other. But back to the original question, what in the world do Cialis advertisers mean with those his and hers bathtubs?
As we know all too well, medication users are advised to call their doctors if their erections last more than four hours. And if they are at all socially responsible, they'll also stay home, as I've explained, to prevent public commotion. But what about that guy whose four-hour clock has not yet chimed, the poor keyed-up sap, marooned at home with his lover, who must somehow manage three hours with his well-sharpened pencil? What to do with the poor thing before it poops out? Well, as they say, if the shoe fits…
The only conclusion is that the Cialis bathtubs provide therapy to over-used muscles. After long and brutal football games, players ease themselves into ice baths to soothe their bruises and mangled muscles. Football games run about three hours, three hours of punishing attacks and twisted acrobatics and contorted positions, over and over and over again. Similar, I suppose, to lovers making a three-hour beast with two backs.
Those bathtubs, therefore, must be full of ice. Case closed. You're welcome.
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