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1. How much crap I eat when she’s not around

The other afternoon I left the kids with Karel and went to the bar to write. (It’s quieter there than at my house–amazing, I know). This bar is famous for serving a sandwich that’s complete with salami, steak, fried onions, cheese, and “special sauce.” It was such a rare treat not to have to put the kids to bed that I cut loose and consumed three in a row. That’s three, in three hours, along with three pints of Guinness. When I got home and Karel asked me if I’d eaten, I just said, “Yes,” as I staggered to the couch. Had I been more specific with my semi-vegetarian wife, I would’ve caught hell. I’m a generally healthy person, so three sandwiches didn’t kill me, and not knowing about them didn’t kill Karel. In fact, telling her might have backfired on Karel because when people tell me what’s in my best interest, I tend to do the exact opposite. If she’d given me grief about those three sandwiches, I might have gone back for a fourth.

2. My complete computer history

Self-gratification. All men do it, and now, thanks to the Internet, all men have an endless supply of visual aids. I’m not talking about an Internet porn addiction here–I’m not missing Great Gram’s 90th because I can’t pry myself away from Booty Detectives 4. I’m just a regular guy who watches a normal amount of the stuff. Most wives don’t want to know about this, and that’s fine with me. Especially when my, uh, hobby causes technical problems. I see no reason to tell Karel that it was probably a visit to naughtynurses.com that crashed the computer. The guys at the Genius bar will figure it out, and that will be all the embarrassment I need.

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