IDH #38 - Isla Fisher
GOOGLED!
3 hours ago
Friday, July 17, 2009
IDH #38 - Isla Fisher
IDH #38 - Isla Fisher
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
It's Hell Getting Old!
An 85-year-old man was requested by his doctor for a sperm count as part of his physical exam.
The doctor gave the man a jar and said, 'Take this jar home and bring back a semen sample tomorrow.'
The next day the 85-year-old man reappeared at the doctor's office and gave him the jar, which was as clean and empty as on the previous day.
The doctor asked what happened and the man explained, 'Well, doc, it's like this--first I tried with my right hand, but nothing. Then I tried with my left hand, but still nothing.'
'Then I asked my wife for help. She tried with her right hand, then with her left, still nothing. She tried with her mouth, first with the teeth in, then with her teeth out, still nothing.'
'We even called up Arleen, the lady next door, and she tried too, first with both hands, then an armpit, and she even tried squeezin' it between her knees, but still nothing.'
The doctor was shocked! 'You asked your neighbor?'
The old man replied, 'Yep, but none of us could get the jar open.'
Monday, July 13, 2009
Misandric Monday - Sexism and Sexual Abuse in Marketing
Why does every single ad for any sort of 'self-defense' class or martial arts school feature a photo of a woman sexually assaulting a man while the man makes a face of agony? Is this all they teach?
Why is it always a woman sexually assaulting a man? Why is it never a man kicking another man? Why not a woman kicking a woman? What are they trying to say when they only ever show a graphic image of a woman sexually assaulting a man? If it weren't sexual, there would be no reason not to show a man kicking a man, or a woman kicking a woman.
An image just like this one has been featured in every single issue of "Memphis Fitness" magazine for as long as I can remember. Depending on how many ads they run for various martial arts schools, they may have several of these images, but always featuring the same scenario as this one - a woman sexually assaulting a man. Always. Memphis largest newspapers, "The Commercial Appeal" and "The Memphis Flyer", have the same ads with the same images of misandric sexual violence. Sometimes these photos are displayed on billboards alongside our highways.
When did graphic sexual violence become acceptable for every single magazine and newspaper, such that they think nothing of running these ads and showing these images to anyone who happens to pick up their publication? When did it become not only acceptable, but common, to display and encourage sexual violence for everyone, including our children, to see?
What do you suppose the magazines and newspapers' response would be to a request to run an add for self-defense those showed a man slamming a woman onto her back, with her feet up over his head while he pressed his groin against hers and she made a face of pain and terror? It's a legitimate judo move, you know. So what if it has sexual overtones? We're all about the self-defense and anything goes, right?
You and I both know what would happen - that ad would never see the light of day.
2 years ago a feminist hate group in Colorado used tax-payer funds to hire a feminist artist to create a sculpture featuring nothing but severed male genitals hanging from strings and a sign that said something about stopping sexual abuse. This obviously sexist threat of sexual mutilation of males, and only of males, was then hung up in the public library and forced on every single person who entered the building.
People complained and many parents pointed out that their young sons were extremely traumatized by the display. Yet the library refused to take the display down or even to move it, saying it had a First Amendment right to threaten sexual mutilation of males if it wanted to. Of course, they didn't word it that way. They wrapped their statement in political and religious jargon to try and portray themselves as victims who were merely empowering women, blah blah blah.
Finally, an outraged man did the only decent thing he could, and tore the display down, taking the clay penises and testicles and placing them all in a box which he then carried out of the building with him. Most citizens indicated to The Press that they were glad to see the "burning cross" finally taken down. But the feminists naturally were, as ever, outraged. They had the man arrested and thrown in jail.
Why is it considered OK to hate males to such an extreme degree that blatant threats of sexual abuse are found everywhere on display, without a word of protest against them? Or, when protests are made, the authorities rush to protect the sexist offenders and arrest the ordinary citizens who demand some sort of decency?
Why would anyone wishing to attract students to their school or class consistently use imagery that so clearly states hostility towards one entire sex? Am I the only one who considers what a bad marketing strategy this is? Small wonder that most martial arts students now are females.
I know why men don't protest this sort of thing more than we do. We never get taken seriously and the end result is always simply more of what we were protesting to begin with. Whenever we admit that something hurts all we ever get is more of it. But I do wonder, why do mothers with sons never protest this? Why do they teach their daughters to treat males this way but never even think to teach their sons to have enough self-respect to not tolerate being treated this way? Why are the Christians not protesting this hate? Have we been so inundated with this total contempt for males for so long that it simply escapes everyone's notice now? Has it become such a common part of our daily landscape that we don't even recognize it anymore?
Why does everyone get upset about rap songs that call women "bitch" and "ho", yet never see the clear and obvious consequences of these images and this message of castration as a positive thing? What's worse, calling a girl a name, or telling a boy that for him to be sexually abused is empowering to women and therefore a good thing? To "take it like a man" has apparently come to mean lie still and allow yourself to be castrated. Nothing could be less 'empowering' than that.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Why So Nervous?
I went to a bar/restaurant to meet an old friend. She was late and I ended up sitting with a couple that I knew individually back in high school. I ran cross country with him. I played dungeons and dragons with her. I remember when they were just starting to date and she asked me if I knew him. I gave him a good recommendation. 5 years later they're married.
We sat and drank their pitcher of beer for hours. He seemed to know everyone in the place. The more he drank, the friendlier he became. At one point he wandered over to an old lady who looked lonely and started talking to her. A few minutes later he was escorting her over to sit with us.
"This is Veronica," he said to us. "I danced with her on her 50th birthday last week."
"He's such a nice guy," Veronica said. "I haven't danced in years."
We went on talking for another hour. My friend showed up and sat with us. We all talked about old times, laughed, and drank their beer.
While we were talking he began to tell us a story. It seems that a few years ago he and one of our high school soccer coaches went down to Florida together. While they were there they went to a popular strip club. After hanging out in the club for awhile, the coach decided he wanted a lap dance.
He motioned to the hottest girl in the club and they went back to a private room for his lap dance. He sat down and she climbed into his lap and began doing her thing, rubbing and bumping and stimulating him with her naked body.
Just as the coach was getting excited and really enjoying the experience, the girl stopped, turned to look him in the face and said, “Coach, is that you?”
Coach looked at her and his heart stopped beating. She was one of his former high school soccer players!
Oh noooooo!
Coach? Is that you?
While we sat and talked, I noticed a woman across the room who was sitting alone for a long time. She was incredibly beautiful, way too good-looking to be single or alone. And yet, she appeared for all the world to be both.
Another woman eventually sat down with her at a small table. I forgot about it.
Maybe an hour later I saw the beautiful woman again, walking over to sit at the bar with her friend. She had blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, big perfect brown eyes, razor-like cheekbones that led into a perfect v-shaped jaw, full lips and a body like a fitness model wrapped in a tight shirt and jeans. She wore no make-up at all, and yet she looked amazing.
Her friend kept getting up and leaving her there at the bar, all alone and looking bored. She was stunningly beautiful. Even without makeup she was still easily the most beautiful woman in the place. Hell, she was the most beautiful woman I had seen anywhere in a long, long time.
I didn't stare at her exactly, but I couldn't help but see her because she was sitting directly in my line of sight, over on the other side of the room. She had no one to talk to at this point. She sat slightly turned to one side in her chair and looked at me. She didn't smile. She just stared back at me with no expression, like she was bored. Then she'd look away slowly, scanning the room for anything to look at, but finding nothing of interest. I was doing the same, trying not to stare, but always finding myself looking at her every time someone moved and I could see her again, or I was turning my head and ended up facing that way. She made my heart speed up. I felt a powerful urge to go try to talk to her.
"I'm married," I silently reminded myself. "Stay where you are and don't get up. Hot women don't need married men hitting on them, wasting their time."
My friends and I went on talking as this was going on. Meanwhile, a pair of pretty blondes came in, walking past me as they made their way to the bar. One of them was especially attractive, ultra-slim and showing it off with tight clothes. Neither of them seemed to notice me as they went by.
My friends and I went on with our conversation.
Suddenly I became aware that Veronica had disappeared.
I spotted her over at the bar, leaning over against the bar next to the 2 blondes who had just come in. She appeared to be ordering a drink, but her head was turned and she was saying something to one of the blondes.
About this time, the incredibly beautiful woman got up and headed for the door, her friend walking ahead of her. She glanced at me as she very slowly moved past, leaving me to wonder if she wanted me to talk to her or perhaps was so bored that she didn't even realize she had looked my way at all.
"You're married - you're married - you're married - don't go talk to her - don't get up," I reminded myself silently in my head.
Veronica reappeared. She sat down and said to me, “is your name Charlie? There’s a blonde up at the bar that said she thinks she knows you and wonders if your name is Charlie. I think you should go talk to her.”
“Wait, what?”
“That girl there is awfully interested in you. She asked if your name is Charlie.”
I looked up at the bar. There were the 2 blondes that had come in about 30 minutes before, but they weren't looking my way. I was hoping she meant the other girl, the stunningly beautiful girl who had already gone out the door, taking most of the air in my lungs with her as she left.
“Is she still up there or did she just leave” I asked Veronica, quietly hoping it had been that incredibly beautiful girl who had just walked out.
"No, she's still here, up at the bar. See?" Veronica motioned her head towards the two blondes still sitting there at the end of the bar, still not looking my way. In fact, I had never seen either of them look my way. Not even once.
"Are you sure?" I asked, somewhat disbelieving that 2 women who had never even looked at me would be asking about me.
"Yes, I'm sure. You should go talk to them. They seem very interested in you."
I suddenly found myself feeling nervous. 2 hot blondes were checking me out. Only they weren’t. I swear they hadn't even looked at me even once. And still I was suddenly nervous.
"What the hell? This makes no sense," I thought to myself. "I'm married. Why do I care if 2 hot blondes at the bar asked about me?"
It was getting late. The bar wouldn't be open much longer. My friends were beginning to pack up their stuff. I needed to go home anyway. I was feeling oddly nervous and self-concious.
We all got up and were starting to leave. The couple I was sitting with said they wanted to go elsewhere to throw darts. Someone mentioned that there was a dart board in the back. There was some talking back and forth and then we all headed towards the back of the building where the dartboards were said to be, right past the bar, and right past the 2 hot blondes.
Something inside of me was saying “you have to talk to them. You have to go over and say ‘hi, I’m Charlie.’ Be funny. Maybe you'll get lucky.” As I got closer I could feel my legs get all shaky. I couldn’t seem to figure out how to walk across the room properly.
Good God, I haven’t had trouble walking normally across a room since high school and hormones and girls with bulging breasts that defied gravity and no bodyfat anywhere else on their bodies! What was wrong with me?!
I walked awkwardly past them without saying anything, without looking over at them, without even smiling at them. As I passed I heard Veronica saying to them, “he’s a really nice guy. You need to meet him …”
Holy crap, Veronica was still trying to hook us up!
I stood in the back for a long time, watching my friends throw darts while I held up the wall. I should say I hid in the back. It's more accurate. Periodically I glanced at the 2 hot blondes out of the corner of my eye. They didn’t seem to be checking me out at all. But I know how women have that supernatural peripheral vision that makes it seem as if they can see out of the back of their heads, so I wasn’t really sure.
We must have stayed back there for at least half an hour, my friends throwing darts against another couple that seemed to appear from nowhere, and me leaning against the wall doing nothing.
It was really late. The bar was closing up. I saw the 2 hot blondes get up and head towards the door to leave. When they got there, they stopped. I could only see one of them, but I couldn't tell what they were doing. They paused for a long time. Then they walked out.
I felt disappointed in myself, as if I should have gone after them, as if I was being a chickenshit. Even though I'm married, I felt nervous and compelled to go after them, even though I never did.
My friends finished their game of darts. They won both of them - a clean sweep. We all began to move towards the door, my friends and their new friends talking about darts while I remained silent with my thoughts, my heart beating oddly too fast for a married man.
As we reached the door we stopped and looked at something odd. There, on the table right next to the door where the 2 hot blondes had paused for so long, was a cardboard French fry plate flipped upside down. On the bottom, in large blue script, was written a phone number.
Call me
We sat and drank their pitcher of beer for hours. He seemed to know everyone in the place. The more he drank, the friendlier he became. At one point he wandered over to an old lady who looked lonely and started talking to her. A few minutes later he was escorting her over to sit with us.
"This is Veronica," he said to us. "I danced with her on her 50th birthday last week."
"He's such a nice guy," Veronica said. "I haven't danced in years."
We went on talking for another hour. My friend showed up and sat with us. We all talked about old times, laughed, and drank their beer.
While we were talking he began to tell us a story. It seems that a few years ago he and one of our high school soccer coaches went down to Florida together. While they were there they went to a popular strip club. After hanging out in the club for awhile, the coach decided he wanted a lap dance.
He motioned to the hottest girl in the club and they went back to a private room for his lap dance. He sat down and she climbed into his lap and began doing her thing, rubbing and bumping and stimulating him with her naked body.
Just as the coach was getting excited and really enjoying the experience, the girl stopped, turned to look him in the face and said, “Coach, is that you?”
Coach looked at her and his heart stopped beating. She was one of his former high school soccer players!
Oh noooooo!
Coach? Is that you?
While we sat and talked, I noticed a woman across the room who was sitting alone for a long time. She was incredibly beautiful, way too good-looking to be single or alone. And yet, she appeared for all the world to be both.
Another woman eventually sat down with her at a small table. I forgot about it.
Maybe an hour later I saw the beautiful woman again, walking over to sit at the bar with her friend. She had blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, big perfect brown eyes, razor-like cheekbones that led into a perfect v-shaped jaw, full lips and a body like a fitness model wrapped in a tight shirt and jeans. She wore no make-up at all, and yet she looked amazing.
Her friend kept getting up and leaving her there at the bar, all alone and looking bored. She was stunningly beautiful. Even without makeup she was still easily the most beautiful woman in the place. Hell, she was the most beautiful woman I had seen anywhere in a long, long time.
I didn't stare at her exactly, but I couldn't help but see her because she was sitting directly in my line of sight, over on the other side of the room. She had no one to talk to at this point. She sat slightly turned to one side in her chair and looked at me. She didn't smile. She just stared back at me with no expression, like she was bored. Then she'd look away slowly, scanning the room for anything to look at, but finding nothing of interest. I was doing the same, trying not to stare, but always finding myself looking at her every time someone moved and I could see her again, or I was turning my head and ended up facing that way. She made my heart speed up. I felt a powerful urge to go try to talk to her.
"I'm married," I silently reminded myself. "Stay where you are and don't get up. Hot women don't need married men hitting on them, wasting their time."
My friends and I went on talking as this was going on. Meanwhile, a pair of pretty blondes came in, walking past me as they made their way to the bar. One of them was especially attractive, ultra-slim and showing it off with tight clothes. Neither of them seemed to notice me as they went by.
My friends and I went on with our conversation.
Suddenly I became aware that Veronica had disappeared.
I spotted her over at the bar, leaning over against the bar next to the 2 blondes who had just come in. She appeared to be ordering a drink, but her head was turned and she was saying something to one of the blondes.
About this time, the incredibly beautiful woman got up and headed for the door, her friend walking ahead of her. She glanced at me as she very slowly moved past, leaving me to wonder if she wanted me to talk to her or perhaps was so bored that she didn't even realize she had looked my way at all.
"You're married - you're married - you're married - don't go talk to her - don't get up," I reminded myself silently in my head.
Veronica reappeared. She sat down and said to me, “is your name Charlie? There’s a blonde up at the bar that said she thinks she knows you and wonders if your name is Charlie. I think you should go talk to her.”
“Wait, what?”
“That girl there is awfully interested in you. She asked if your name is Charlie.”
I looked up at the bar. There were the 2 blondes that had come in about 30 minutes before, but they weren't looking my way. I was hoping she meant the other girl, the stunningly beautiful girl who had already gone out the door, taking most of the air in my lungs with her as she left.
“Is she still up there or did she just leave” I asked Veronica, quietly hoping it had been that incredibly beautiful girl who had just walked out.
"No, she's still here, up at the bar. See?" Veronica motioned her head towards the two blondes still sitting there at the end of the bar, still not looking my way. In fact, I had never seen either of them look my way. Not even once.
"Are you sure?" I asked, somewhat disbelieving that 2 women who had never even looked at me would be asking about me.
"Yes, I'm sure. You should go talk to them. They seem very interested in you."
I suddenly found myself feeling nervous. 2 hot blondes were checking me out. Only they weren’t. I swear they hadn't even looked at me even once. And still I was suddenly nervous.
"What the hell? This makes no sense," I thought to myself. "I'm married. Why do I care if 2 hot blondes at the bar asked about me?"
It was getting late. The bar wouldn't be open much longer. My friends were beginning to pack up their stuff. I needed to go home anyway. I was feeling oddly nervous and self-concious.
We all got up and were starting to leave. The couple I was sitting with said they wanted to go elsewhere to throw darts. Someone mentioned that there was a dart board in the back. There was some talking back and forth and then we all headed towards the back of the building where the dartboards were said to be, right past the bar, and right past the 2 hot blondes.
Something inside of me was saying “you have to talk to them. You have to go over and say ‘hi, I’m Charlie.’ Be funny. Maybe you'll get lucky.” As I got closer I could feel my legs get all shaky. I couldn’t seem to figure out how to walk across the room properly.
Good God, I haven’t had trouble walking normally across a room since high school and hormones and girls with bulging breasts that defied gravity and no bodyfat anywhere else on their bodies! What was wrong with me?!
I walked awkwardly past them without saying anything, without looking over at them, without even smiling at them. As I passed I heard Veronica saying to them, “he’s a really nice guy. You need to meet him …”
Holy crap, Veronica was still trying to hook us up!
I stood in the back for a long time, watching my friends throw darts while I held up the wall. I should say I hid in the back. It's more accurate. Periodically I glanced at the 2 hot blondes out of the corner of my eye. They didn’t seem to be checking me out at all. But I know how women have that supernatural peripheral vision that makes it seem as if they can see out of the back of their heads, so I wasn’t really sure.
We must have stayed back there for at least half an hour, my friends throwing darts against another couple that seemed to appear from nowhere, and me leaning against the wall doing nothing.
It was really late. The bar was closing up. I saw the 2 hot blondes get up and head towards the door to leave. When they got there, they stopped. I could only see one of them, but I couldn't tell what they were doing. They paused for a long time. Then they walked out.
I felt disappointed in myself, as if I should have gone after them, as if I was being a chickenshit. Even though I'm married, I felt nervous and compelled to go after them, even though I never did.
My friends finished their game of darts. They won both of them - a clean sweep. We all began to move towards the door, my friends and their new friends talking about darts while I remained silent with my thoughts, my heart beating oddly too fast for a married man.
As we reached the door we stopped and looked at something odd. There, on the table right next to the door where the 2 hot blondes had paused for so long, was a cardboard French fry plate flipped upside down. On the bottom, in large blue script, was written a phone number.
Call me
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Ohio Hate Crime - "This is a Black World!"
Martin Marshall (right) recounts the racist attack by a gang of black supremacists on himself and his white family and friends while they were watching a Fourth of July fireworks display in Firestone Park. His daughter, Rachel Hopson, 15, (left) and wife, Yvonne Marshall, listen. (Michael Chritton/Akron Beacon Journal)
Akron police say they aren't ready to call it a hate crime.
But to Marty Marshall, his wife and two kids, and anyone who isn't a total fucking idiot, it seems pretty clear.
It came after a family night of celebrating America's freedom with a fireworks show at Firestone Stadium. Marshall, his family and two friends were gathered outside a friend's home in South Akron.
Out of nowhere, the six were attacked by dozens of black supremacists, who shouted ''This is our world'' and ''This is a black world'' as they attacked Marshall and his family.
The Marshalls, who are white, say the gang of black racist teens who attacked them and two friends June 27 on Girard Street numbered close to 50.
The racists were all black.
''This was almost like being a terrorist act,'' Marshall said. ''And we allow this to go on in our neighborhoods?''
They said it started when one black racist, without any words or warning, sucker punched Marshall's friend as he stood outside with the others.
When Marshall, 39, jumped in, he found himself being attacked by the growing group of black supremacist hate criminals.
His daughter, Rachel, 15, who weighs about 90 pounds, tried to come to his rescue. The black supremacists pushed her to the ground.
His wife, Yvonne, pushed their son, Donald, 14, into bushes to keep him from getting caught in the middle of it.
''My thing is,'' Marshall said, ''I didn't want this, but I was in fear for my wife, my kids and my friends. I felt I had to stay out there to protect them, because those guys were just jumping, swinging fists and everything.
''I'm lucky ... They were trying to take my head off my spine, basically.''
After several minutes of beatings, the attack ended and the black racists left.
''I don't think I thought at that moment when I tried to jump in,'' Rachel Marshall said. ''But when I was laying on the ground, I was just scared.''
Marshall was the most seriously injured. He said he spent five nights in the critical care unit at Akron General Medical Center.
Marshall, a construction worker, said he now fears for his family's safety, and the thousands of dollars in medical bills he faces without insurance.
''I knew I was going to get beat, but not as bad as I did,'' Marshall said. ''But I did it to protect my family. I didn't have a choice. There was no need for this. We should be all getting along. But to me, it seems to be racist.''
Akron police are investigating. Right now, the case is not being classified as a racial hate crime. There were no other reports of victims assaulted by the group that night, which has nothing whatever to do with whether or not this is a hate crime.
The department's gang unit is involved in the investigation, police said, for no particular reason.
''We don't know if it's a known gang, or just a group of (racist) kids,'' police Lt. Rick Edwards said.
The Marshalls say they fear retaliation at home or when they go outside. They are considering arming themselves.
For now, they are hoping police can (will) bring them suspects. They can identify several of the attackers.
''This makes you think about your freedom,'' Marshall said. ''In all reality, where is your freedom when you have this going on?''
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
originally written by Phil Trexler, who can be reached at 330-996-3717 or ptrexler@thebeaconjournal.com.
Modified by Memphis Steve to remove as much PC bullshit as possible. Feel free to repost this story and/or forward to others who may be interested. Obviously it is a story which the Leftist American News Media will bury as quickly as possible to prevent anyone from hearing about it.
* Special thanks to Dr. Helen from bringing this hate crime to light.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Once a Century
Shortly after 12pm on July 8, comes the moment that can be called 12:34:56 7/8/9. Happens only once a century. Too cool!
Yes, yes, I know you don't list the dates that way in Europe and the UK and Australia and New Zealand and South Africa and blah blah blah. You fuckers do it wrong, that's all.
Yes, yes, I know you don't list the dates that way in Europe and the UK and Australia and New Zealand and South Africa and blah blah blah. You fuckers do it wrong, that's all.
Monday, July 06, 2009
The Knob
A woman visited her plastic surgeon who told her about a new procedure called 'The Knob,' where a small knob is placed at the top of the woman's head and could be turned to tighten up her skin and produce the effect of a brand new face-lift. Of course, the woman wanted 'The Knob.' Over the course of the years, the woman tightened the knob, and the effects were wonderful, the woman remained young & looking and vibrant.
After fifteen years, the woman returned to the surgeon with two problems. 'All these years, everything has been working just fine.
I've had to turn the knob many times and I've always loved the results. But now I've developed two annoying problems: First, I have these terrible bags under my eyes and the knob won't get rid of them.'
The doctor looked at her closely and said, 'Those aren't bags, those are your breasts.'
She said, 'Well, I guess there's no point in asking about the goatee.
There are days when I feel a strong urge to write on my blog. There are days when I don't.
There are days when I feel guilty for not having had any time to go and comment on all the blogs that I read in Google Reader every day. And there are days when I don't.
There are days when I realize that I can already talk to half of my favorite bloggers on Facebook or some other such site and therefore wouldn't really lose touch if I left. And there are days when I wonder about the people that I haven't met yet.
There are days when I am too exhausted to even turn the computer on. And there are days when I'm exhausted because I didn't have the self-control to know when to turn it off the night before.
And then there is today. I am tired. And I don't have much to say. And I wonder if this is a passing phase or perhaps an indication that I am winding down.
We shall see what we shall see. Whatever will be will be.
And yet, here I am $5 away from another check from Google for running their ads. Oh, decisions decisions!
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Survey stolen from a girl named Courtney who dropped me on Facebook
1.) When you walk in your front door, which room do you enter?
The front room, where we keep the front door, of course
2.)Do you have a dishwasher?
Yes, me. And sometimes they get extra help from a machine under the kitchen counter that sprays them with hot water and soap after I'm done.
3.) Is your living room carpeted or does it have hardwood floors?
There's this shiny plastic shit that looks a whole lot like wood, except that it's way shiny and it echoes like hell and also it doesn't sound like wood when you walk on it. Anyway, that's what we have. It doesn't scratch easily and it's easy to clean, so we're happy with it.
4.) Do you keep your kitchen knives on the counter or in a drawer?
The knives in the drawer aren't balanced well for throwing, which is why they're in the drawer. I keep the throwable ones on the counter just in case you piss me off.
5.) House, apartment, duplex or trailer?
I'll take 'House' for $1000, Alex
6.) How many bedrooms is it?
How many bedrooms is what? Maybe a better question would be, how many assistants does Dr. House have now, and do you think the hot girl, Thirteen, will stay on the show permanently?
7.) Gas stove or electric?
I believe the Jews were killed with gas, but I've forgotten most of my Nazi history. American cops use hand-held electric, aka The Taser.
8.) Do you have a yard?
Big, big yard with lots of stupid plants the previous owners planted and I intend to yank up and burn when My Wife isn't looking. Actually, we've already yanked and burned a lot of them. Somewhere along the way we accidentally planted some pumpkin seeds and now we have a full-on pumpkin vine with pumpkins growing in the back corner of our yard and we're not quite sure what the hell to do with it.
9.) What size TV is in the living room?
32 inch maybe? 34? Something like that. It was the biggest set that would fit in the entertainment center. Yes, I know. You're all so very disappointed that I don't have a 50 inch plasma. Well, I have an 11 inch ... nevermind.
10.) Are your plates in the same cupboard as your cups?
No, they don't get along so we had to separate them.
11.) Is there a coffee maker sitting on your kitchen counter?
No, there is a coffee making sitting on the counter at work, so I don't need one at home. Who needs coffee at home? I'm wide awake when I'm at home. It's when I get to work and am forced to attend meetings that my brain requires drugs like caffeine in order to feign interest.
13.) What room is your computer in?
I have a computer in every room. I live in a space ship.
14.) Are there pictures hanging in your living room?
Yes, a giant Farrah Fawcett poster is hanging on the north wall to remind me of what hot women in the '70s looked like. I have another room with a hot woman from the '80s and upstairs in the bonus room is a poster of a hot woman from the '90s. In the bedroom is a calendar with a big picture of Marisa Miller, a hot woman from the 21st century.
15.) Are there any themes found in your home?
Yes, we went with the Flying Windows theme which came with the box.
16.) What kind of laundry detergent do you use?
The kind you put in the washer to clean dirt out of your clothes.
17.) Do you use dryer sheets?
Only if I am drying the cat. They hate that static cling.
18.) Do you have any curtains in your home?
No, we are nudists. We waltz around with our kibbles and bits hanging out and the windows wide open. All the neighbors are super excited.
19.) What color is your fridge?
White like Pat Boone.
20.) Is your house clean?
Chaos, I tell you, total chaos.
21.) What room is the most neglected?
The 4th bedroom. It's always complaining that we don't love it.
22.) Are the dishes in your sink/dishwasher clean or dirty?
Well hell, if the dishes are in the sink, they are dirty. If the dishwasher is full, they are clean by now. If not, they are dirty until we get a full load.
23.) How long have you lived in your home?
2 years, with time off for good behavior.
24.) Where did you live before?
Redneckville, TN, east of Snootyville which is east of Memphis proper. All are in Shelby County, the kingdom of King Willie the Wimp and his band of cronies.
25.) Do you have one of those fluffy toilet lid covers on your toilet?
No, those things were made by feminists to cause the lid to slam on boys' pee pees. And that is exactly what they do.
26.) Do you have a scale anywhere in your house?
Yes, but it doesn't appear to be working since we moved there. Thanks 2 Men and a Truck, for breaking so much of our shit.
27.) How many mirrors are in your house?
I can only think of 3, one in each bathroom. If we are ever attacked by vampires we'll run to the bathroom because everyone knows vampires are scared of mirrors. And farts. They hate smelly farts.
28.) Look up. What do you see?
Ceiling. What did you expect me to see, Marilyn Monroe's cooter?
29.) Do you have a garage?
Yes, 3 car garage, currently with 3 cars in it, as it should be, plus lots of storage space. It is going to be one hell of a hard time finding another house like this one, dammit.
And now for something sooo wrong ...
The front room, where we keep the front door, of course
2.)Do you have a dishwasher?
Yes, me. And sometimes they get extra help from a machine under the kitchen counter that sprays them with hot water and soap after I'm done.
3.) Is your living room carpeted or does it have hardwood floors?
There's this shiny plastic shit that looks a whole lot like wood, except that it's way shiny and it echoes like hell and also it doesn't sound like wood when you walk on it. Anyway, that's what we have. It doesn't scratch easily and it's easy to clean, so we're happy with it.
4.) Do you keep your kitchen knives on the counter or in a drawer?
The knives in the drawer aren't balanced well for throwing, which is why they're in the drawer. I keep the throwable ones on the counter just in case you piss me off.
5.) House, apartment, duplex or trailer?
I'll take 'House' for $1000, Alex
6.) How many bedrooms is it?
How many bedrooms is what? Maybe a better question would be, how many assistants does Dr. House have now, and do you think the hot girl, Thirteen, will stay on the show permanently?
7.) Gas stove or electric?
I believe the Jews were killed with gas, but I've forgotten most of my Nazi history. American cops use hand-held electric, aka The Taser.
8.) Do you have a yard?
Big, big yard with lots of stupid plants the previous owners planted and I intend to yank up and burn when My Wife isn't looking. Actually, we've already yanked and burned a lot of them. Somewhere along the way we accidentally planted some pumpkin seeds and now we have a full-on pumpkin vine with pumpkins growing in the back corner of our yard and we're not quite sure what the hell to do with it.
9.) What size TV is in the living room?
32 inch maybe? 34? Something like that. It was the biggest set that would fit in the entertainment center. Yes, I know. You're all so very disappointed that I don't have a 50 inch plasma. Well, I have an 11 inch ... nevermind.
10.) Are your plates in the same cupboard as your cups?
No, they don't get along so we had to separate them.
11.) Is there a coffee maker sitting on your kitchen counter?
No, there is a coffee making sitting on the counter at work, so I don't need one at home. Who needs coffee at home? I'm wide awake when I'm at home. It's when I get to work and am forced to attend meetings that my brain requires drugs like caffeine in order to feign interest.
13.) What room is your computer in?
I have a computer in every room. I live in a space ship.
14.) Are there pictures hanging in your living room?
Yes, a giant Farrah Fawcett poster is hanging on the north wall to remind me of what hot women in the '70s looked like. I have another room with a hot woman from the '80s and upstairs in the bonus room is a poster of a hot woman from the '90s. In the bedroom is a calendar with a big picture of Marisa Miller, a hot woman from the 21st century.
15.) Are there any themes found in your home?
Yes, we went with the Flying Windows theme which came with the box.
16.) What kind of laundry detergent do you use?
The kind you put in the washer to clean dirt out of your clothes.
17.) Do you use dryer sheets?
Only if I am drying the cat. They hate that static cling.
18.) Do you have any curtains in your home?
No, we are nudists. We waltz around with our kibbles and bits hanging out and the windows wide open. All the neighbors are super excited.
19.) What color is your fridge?
White like Pat Boone.
20.) Is your house clean?
Chaos, I tell you, total chaos.
21.) What room is the most neglected?
The 4th bedroom. It's always complaining that we don't love it.
22.) Are the dishes in your sink/dishwasher clean or dirty?
Well hell, if the dishes are in the sink, they are dirty. If the dishwasher is full, they are clean by now. If not, they are dirty until we get a full load.
23.) How long have you lived in your home?
2 years, with time off for good behavior.
24.) Where did you live before?
Redneckville, TN, east of Snootyville which is east of Memphis proper. All are in Shelby County, the kingdom of King Willie the Wimp and his band of cronies.
25.) Do you have one of those fluffy toilet lid covers on your toilet?
No, those things were made by feminists to cause the lid to slam on boys' pee pees. And that is exactly what they do.
26.) Do you have a scale anywhere in your house?
Yes, but it doesn't appear to be working since we moved there. Thanks 2 Men and a Truck, for breaking so much of our shit.
27.) How many mirrors are in your house?
I can only think of 3, one in each bathroom. If we are ever attacked by vampires we'll run to the bathroom because everyone knows vampires are scared of mirrors. And farts. They hate smelly farts.
28.) Look up. What do you see?
Ceiling. What did you expect me to see, Marilyn Monroe's cooter?
29.) Do you have a garage?
Yes, 3 car garage, currently with 3 cars in it, as it should be, plus lots of storage space. It is going to be one hell of a hard time finding another house like this one, dammit.
And now for something sooo wrong ...
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