Shempkin hates Shempkin and Pornography

When Mrs. Shempkin was finished...she knew it was finished.

After all, she had written a list of everything she hated, which ended up being about her husband and his particular habits. These habits were not weird, maybe a little perverted, but not weird. But, she hated them; hated like a Frenchman hates an American Tourist. Hated like a handjob hates a blowjob.

That last metaphor made her think; there's something totally and utterly wrong with me...

So, she went to a shrink to figure out if she actually hated her husband, or if she was just a tad bit queer.

Sitting on her therapist's couch, she spoke softly.

Mrs. Shempkin: It's strange, you know. After 15 years, Ralphie's still a mystery to me. I really don't know all that much about him, and that scares me.

Therapist: How so?

Mrs. Shempkin: Well, just yesterday I asked him what he was thinking about and he said "nothing". Nothing? What the fuck does that mean? Nothing. If you're thinking nothing, you're fucking dead, like that vegetable in Florida those Republicans tried to make a scene about. Thinking nothing!

Therapist: How so?

Mrs. Shempkin: Well, I mean, it's a silly thing to say, "thinking nothing" because you're obviously thinking about something. 15 years of "thinking nothing" and it just convinced me that he's thinking something that he just doesn't want me to know.

Therapist: How so?

Mrs. Shempkin: I think that's pretty obvious.

Therapist: How so?

It was at this point that Mrs. Shempkin turned around and noticed that her Therapist had been replaced with a cassette player with "out to lunch" written on it. She decided she needed to confront her husband one-on-one.

When she got home, she noticed her man, laying quietly on the couch, watching the "Best Of Ellen Degeneres" on DVD. It was 5 minutes long.

Mrs. Shempkin: Ralphie, we need to talk.

Ralphie: I hope it's not about anything, because I hate talking about anything.

Mrs. Shempkin: Not only is it about anything...it's about something.

Ralphie: Some-thing? That's my least favorite thing.

Mrs. Shempkin: Why do you just sit there, watching hours and hours of Lesbian comediennes, while not paying attention to me?

Ralphie: Well, maybe if you tried to become a comedienne, I would pay attention to you.

Mrs. Shempkin: Well, to be honest...I did. And you know what I found out?

Ralphie: What?

Mrs. Shempkin: I found out that I hate you.

Ralphie: Really? You do?

Mrs. Shempkin: Yes, I'm afraid so.

Ralphie: We've got so much more in common then I ever knew!

From that moment on, Ralphie and his wife were inseparable; he never thought he'd ever meet anyone that hated him as much as he hated himself.