Erectile Dysfunction

There’s no better way to be sure that your article reaches millions of people who don’t want to read it than by titling it after something I’m sure hundreds of men search out each day.* But this blog isn’t about men or even a penis. This blog is about my candles.

A candle, specifically a taper candle, is supposed to be a long, erect stick of wax. One that you can light on fire and eventually melt into nothingness. Although, if you are me, you never light your candles because you hate that all candles seem to be scented, and you have very vivid memories of your friend leaning over a birthday cake and his hair going up in flames. So, you don’t light the candles because you are actually afraid of fire and weird smells. But you love candlesticks and a candlestick without a candle is, simply put, a depressing sight. Depressing like Tom Cruise without a wife. Or John Travolta without a masseuse. It’s just not right. You know what’s more depressing ¬†that those things? Erectile dysfunction.

I call this, the college try.

It’s completely flaccid.

A candle with erectile dysfunction, much like a man with erectile dysfunction, is typically suffering from a greater physical ailment. Unlike a man with erectile dysfunction, the candle does not suffer from performance anxiety, kidney failure, or cirrhosis.** The candle suffers from heat. Unlike a dog in heat, this does not mean that the candle needs to mate.

I live in Phoenix. As I am sure you know, it is hot here during the summers. In fact, the only place it is consistently hotter is in hell.*** And that is why it was catastrophically tragic when our air conditioner broke this week. I think the photos speak to the state of our household. The candles are wise.

The new air conditioner is much better than the old one. The candles and I are recovering. One candle underwent an amputation; the other two are vaguely directionally inclined. I am showered. Ryan seems unfazed by the whole ordeal. Like the men who take Viagra, my candles will need a little help from time to time. Unlike the men who take Viagra, my candles failing could set the house on fire. I told you, there’s a reason I don’t light the candles.

*I tried to google how many people search for erectile dysfunction every day, and I did not find any statistics worth sharing. In fact, I did not find anything worth sharing. Instead, I found a lot of articles on the embarrassment of coping with erectile dysfunction, an article on stimulus money was used to research erectile dysfunction, and one particularly brave blog titled “My Erectile Dysfunction and Me.” I was afraid to click on it. I just can’t do it.

**Things I can do? Click on dozens of articles about what causes erectile dysfunction. You see, I am the Googler: I’m the person whose smart phone is always within reach to research and settle a bet and who one day read 25 posts on rabies because it turns out that if you aren’t treated for rabies, they just tie you to a bed and wait for you to die. I’m dead serious. I fall down a lot of Wiki-holes.

***Yes, I know that there are deserts in the Middle East and Africa that get hotter than it does in Phoenix. But you know what? Those places cool down at night. Do you know what the low was one day last week? 91. That’s right. It was 4 in the morning and 91 degrees outside because cement holds onto heat like Gary Busey used to hold onto cocaine: burning hot and seeking more.

2 thoughts on “Erectile Dysfunction

  1. Did you know that if you wake up and there is a bat in your room, you are supposed to assume you’ve been bitten and immediately treated with rabies? You are not supposed to help the bat out of your home, assume you are fine, and go back to sleep.

    I asked my Dr. In Law (who lives in a house that sometimes has bats) if there is an inoculation for this problem so that every time you find a bat wandering around your bedroom you don’t have to immediately kill it and take it to a clinic where you must begin rabies treatments immediately. Apparently there is. But it is really expensive. Like $2000.

    I think, if I frequently woke up to confused bats, I’d pay the $2k. Just saying. Since, they totally really do just tie you to a bed and wait for you to die.

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