Question: I married young, at 19, bright-eyed and hopeful, and in a few months, we will celebrate our 29th anniversary. Like all marriages, we have had our share of happy and sad, growing together as the years passed us by. My husband is my best friend, a wonderful father, a hard worker, a great provider, treats me like a queen, and loves me unconditionally. He is my soul mate in many ways. My husband is also gay. I had no idea when I married him. I was a virgin on our wedding night and had never had any type of physical relationship prior to my husband. Having nothing to compare it to, I thought our sexual intimacy was normal. It was fun, sexy, enjoyable. My husband was a giving partner, and I almost always experienced orgasm. But as the years went by, the frequency of our sexual activity became less. It was not unusual to go months without sex not for lack of trying on my part. We rarely fought, but we would fight about the growing lack of intimacy. I often wondered what it was about me that made my husband not want to have sex with me. And then one day, shortly after our 25th anniversary, I found gay porn on his computer. At first he denied everything, but finally, through tears, he confessed that he'd had these same-sex attractions as long as he could remember. In his teens, a church counsellor had told him marriage would "cure" him. Feeling as though I had just been punched in the gut, I was heartbroken. I felt betrayed, confused, angry, sad, and yet, miraculously relieved. There was nothing wrong with me I was just not his type. The emotions flew through me leaving my head and heart confused. What now? I loved this man with every fibre of my being. We had a good life together, sex aside, and had built a family. We were happy. I did not want a divorce and neither did he. Question: How long have they been married? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- More than 2 decades
- More than a decade
- 10 years
- not enough information
Answer: More than 2 decades

input with options: I showed up at the address on Columbine's invitation just before eleven; it was a converted warehouse in an industrial zone on the city's north side. Since it was a Saturday night, everything else was empty for miles. The parking lot was filled with sports cars, hybrids, and shiny suburban tanks. The door facing the parking lot was open, spilling out muted lights and the din of yuppie chatter. It cast a somewhat foreboding aura over the entrance. The first thing I noticed as I approached was the beefy refrigerator in a rented tux blocking the doorway. The second thing was the surveillance camera perched on the wall above his head. I had stopped home and changed first, so I was sure I was dressed mostly appropriately for some rich faux-hipster art party - charcoal gray pinstripe jacket over a TV on the Radio t-shirt, skinny cuffed jeans, Docs, and a black fedora. I certainly didn't look any worse than the other idiots I saw filing in and out of the door. I even had an invitation. So I was fairly confident I'd be able to gain admission to this thing without incident. "No, absolutely not," the doorman said, pressing a meaty palm into my chest. "I was invited!" I said, exasperated. "I have documentation." I waved the rave card in front of his face. "No dice." I stepped aside to let a couple of aging goths through the door and wondered for a moment if the doorman somehow knew who I was. Then I noticed the ear piece he was wearing and my eyes darted back to the surveillance camera. "Motherfucker," I spat and raised both arms to flip off the camera. I didn't know it at the time, but at that moment Dylan Maxwell was sitting in front of a wall of monitors, laughing his ass off. Question: How long will the party probably last? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Six hours
- One hour
- Twenty four hours
output: Six hours

Q: Paul was late for the victory party. When he finally arrived back at Chloe's house he found her driveway and neighborhood so crowded with cars that he had to park on the next street over. He was ever so slightly worried about leaving his car out of sight in this neighborhood, but really it was his nervousness about the party that tied his stomach in knots. A $120 bottle of champagne under his arm, Paul walked bravely up to the front door, which opened from within before he could touch the doorbell. "8:17!" shouted Chloe as she flung the door wide, a wristwatch held in her hand. "Who bet closest to 8:17?" Chloe wore a green and blue sari wrapped low around her waist and a white t-shirt on which someone had used a sharpie to write "HOOK-HER" on the front. A young, stocky Asian American woman named Bee stepped forward. She held a little piece of paper in her hand, which she shoved playfully in front of Chloe's face. "8:15! I had 8:15!" Behind the two women a tall, rail-thin man appeared, wearing a faded blue polo shirt with the Microsoft logo on it and a pair of khakis. Paul recognized him as Raff, whom he'd met the night before. "Just barely beat my 8:00." He said. Raff was the computer guy - the lead hacker in the group who'd been responsible for sorting through the reams of electronic data they'd stolen and finding the juicy bits. He'd also masterminded the attack on the company Web site and some of the other problems that had tied his former partners up in the hours after Paul had gotten the check. "I wanted to bet 'never' but Chloe had already taken that one." "Don't listen to him, Paul," said Chloe. "I just bet never because I knew everyone else would want it and I alone had faith in your return. But the others decided to have a little betting pool about when you'd finally show up after you pulled your little disappearing act earlier." Chloe waggled her finger at him in mock scolding. "You're a naughty little boy, giving me the slip like that." Question: Why Chloe belived Paul was annoying? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Because he brought champagne.
- Because he disappeared.
- Because he double parked.

A:
Because he disappeared.