Day 1 Just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary with not much to celebrate. When it came time to re-enact our wedding night, HE locked himself in the bathroom and cried.

Day 2 Today he says he has a big secret to tell me. He's impotent, he says, and he wants me to be the first to know. Why doesn't he tell me something I DON'T know! I mean, give me a break. He's been dysfunctional for so long, he even WALKS with a limp.

Day 3 This marriage is in trouble. A woman has needs. Yesterday, I saw a picture of the Washington Monument and burst into tears.

Day 4 A miracle has happened! There's a new drug on the market that will fix his er... "problem." It's called Viagra. I told him that if he takes Viagra, things will be just like they were on our wedding night. He said, "This time, I'd rather not have your mother join us." (I think this will work. I replaced his Prozac with the Viagra, hoping to lift something other than his mood.)

Day 7 This Viagra thing has gone to his head. (No pun intended). Yesterday, at Burger King, the manager asked me if I'd like a Whopper. He thought they were talking about him. GET OVER YOURSELF! Not everything is about you!

Day 8 I think he took too many over the weekend. Yesterday, instead of mowing the lawn, he was using his new friend as a weed wacker.

Day 10 Okay, I admit it. I'm hiding. I mean, a girl can only take so much. And to make matters worse, he's washing the Viagra down with Hard Cider! The photo of Janet Reno isn't working. What am I going to do?

Day 11 The side effects are starting to get to him. Everything is turning blue. The other day, we were watching Kenneth Branaugh in Hamlet, and he thought it was The Smurfs Do Denmark.

Day 12 I'm basically being drilled to death. It's like going out with Black and Decker.

Day 13 I wish he was gay. I bought 400 Liza Minelli albums and I keep saying "fabulous" and still he keeps coming after me!

Day 14 Now I know how Saddam Hussein's wife feels. Every time I shut my eyes, there's a sneak attack! It's like going to bed with a scud missile. Let's hope he's like President Bush and pulls out in 100 days.

Day 15 I've done everything to turn him off. Nothing is working. I even started dressing like a nun. Now he tells me sister Wendy revs his motor.

Day 16 I may just have to kill him. Then he'll go out the way he wants to: stiff. With my luck, I won't be able to close the casket. Argh!