How I Learned to Stop Worrying . . . .

Back in days before “Cougar” meant something other than a large cat, The Rolling Stones recorded a song entitled, “The Spider and the Fly.” I’ve been humming it ever since I saw the prompt. I expect three or four Fictioneers to take that route, and I look forward to reading their entries. Instead, I chose an angle our more “mature” readers could relate to.  The third paragraph is an actual line from the movie.

 This week’s inspirational photo is courtesy of my good friend, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

To read more stories, go to  click on the Blog tab, and follow the links.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying . . . .

“Good morning, Mrs. Smith. How are you today?”

“Just fine, Doctor Strangelove. Do you have my husband’s test results?”

“Based on the findings of the report, my conclusion was that this idea was not a practical deterrent for reasons which at this moment must be all too obvious.”

“Could you break that down in layman terms?”

 “Your husband has a growth over his hypothalamus. Here’s a picture of a healthy brain.”


“And here is the scan of your husband’s blockage”


“What does the hypothalamus control?”

 “His libido or sex drive.”

“Good. It’s nothing that’ll keep him from mowing the lawn.”



26 thoughts on “How I Learned to Stop Worrying . . . .

    1. I also wanted to comment on the low sex drive theme but I had to mow my lawn first or else the wife, well, you know…

      This story was no bomb. Wait, make that “This story was the bomb.”

      And because of it, this is how I learned to love the bomb!!!!!

      Wow. I just felt the earth move slightly. Now let’s talk about sex. Oooh. Randy


  1. Can I just say the pictures make the story? Well, that and the story…
    This sounds a little like my couple 30 years down the road.

    Great take on the pic. Why do spider webs make people think of human brains?


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