Duck Duck - Pig Fuck?

For her birthday, this year, I bought Sarah a copy of Duck Duck Wally by Gabe Rotter.

She had wanted a copy since she was friend requested on MySpace by Gabe himself. After trying unsuccessfully to secure a copy from her/our local library, I decided it was time to buy her a copy.

Sarah embarked upon her journey of reading this novel. Usually at night she would sit in bed and laugh out loud at some riotous word choice in the pages of her newly acquired fresh piece of fiction. Some nights she would just have to read out a particular passage from the book. I would laugh and she would go back to silently reading the book. I would try to go back to sleep.

This week she is reaching the end of the book. As she sat there tonight reading page after page she would make various ooooohhhhhhhh and the occasional aaaahhhhhhhh - with just now a long hmmmmmmmmmmm. I had disregarded her sounds and started to tell a story about something that took place along my day.

Halfway through my starting sentence I was stopped by a look of annoyance, half mixed with betrayal and add a slice of OHHHH NO YOU DIDN'T! What? What pray tell did I do in trying to relay an off beat story about my day? The reply was simple......

"uhm I'm in the middle of a LITERARY ORGASM HERE!"

I'm reminded of one of her blog postings about an interruption I made in the middle of the ending of the last good book she read. During that episode, she was in tears. I hadn't noticed. The entire 300 previous pages had led up to these last few pages and she was so engrossed in them that she was ready to, breathing heavier, heartbeat faster, clenching teeth......and there I was (during that time) ruining it with some stupid question or story of mine. I was given a proper public blog bitch slapping - and if you have ever been on the receiving end you know the painful sting.

When she said tonight that I was close to the edge of ruining another literary moment for her, I was aware of this issue. My apparent Faux Pas. But being a husband (and probably having more to do with my male chromosomes) I looked at the book in between her fingers. She had like 40 more pages to go. She wasn't at the end of the book. Defiant I brought up this observation.

"But you still have like 40 pages to go. How the fuck am I interrupting your literary orgasm?"

She replied that it wasn't like a quick high school orgasm sprung from the loin of a young buck in the back seat of his father's Buick. This is....

"This is more like a pig climax!"

WTF? Confused I just shut up and stopped talking. When somebody starts talking about the orgasms of pigs you just shut the fuck up! They obviously know something about pigs and orgasms that you don't. And do you really want to go there? Not I!

So Gabe if you're out there reading this, I want you to know that Sarah T. Hughes (the chick your friend requested and sent a Duck Duck Wally shirt to) says:

DUCK DUCK WALLY - The last 40 pages are like a fucking Pig Climax! Long and worth every penny spent! - Sarah T. Hughes (long time reader, first time caller)