By Elton Brawn & Thesal Thayer►
We’re all very familiar with coitus interruptus, a zestful finale to lovemaking and a semi-effective form of birth control. But what you may not know is that there's an unending supply of interruptus types out there to be explored. So pull yourself out of whatever you’re doing and let us present to you just a few of the more unsung interruptuses.
Calculus interruptus: You’ve been accepted to engineering physics, but at the last minute you opt for the eminently more useful English literature degree instead. Now look where you work.
Cunnilingus interruptus: The point when your brain and tongue are too tired to go on and you give up, accepting that you just can't solve nature’s mutilated chessboard.
Detritus interruptus: Jazz brunch on the lido deck has been fabulous, but you elect to take a siesta while your luxury cruise circumnavigates the Pacific trash vortex.
Asparagus interruptus: Your boy scarfs down bushel after bushel of asparagus, and when he pisses, life in the frat house just grinds to a halt.
Krampus interruptus: In the midst of Christmas Eve lovemaking, your significant other slides into a goat mask and summons the alpine yuletide demi-demon.
Coronavirus interruptus: When that COVID-19 you thought you had turns out to be full-on Ebola and you just disintegrate. That’s it. You’re done.
Walrus interruptus: When you’re in the dog park with your pet walrus and animal control officers inform you that it is both unlawful and dangerous to be in possession of a 400-pound undomesticated marine mammal.
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| Michaelangelo's Bacchus |
Dionysus interruptus: That awkward moment when you’ve been drinking wine and making frenzied love to strangers for weeks beyond the solstice and the god Bacchus himself appears before you and tells you to “cool your jets, bro.”
Thesaurus interruptus: When you can’t find a flattering synonym for “psychotic,” so you take your katana to your trusty Roget’s.
Anthropophagus interruptus: When you’re about to eat your landscaper’s liver with some fava beans and a bottle of Chianti and your fiancée texts to remind you that you’ve got reservations at Dorsia with the Harringtons in thirty minutes.
Hiatus interruptus: You’ve wasted three minutes of your life reading this asinine listicle, now get back to filing those TPS reports or whatever demeaning task qualifies as your “work.”
