Without genitals, would he even notice?
Huh. I'd never have guessed it.
Ken was fishy indeed....I am a little rusty on my Barbie history, but wasn't there once a Bruce doll, Ken's dear childhood friend from the parish?
Yea, Bruce had a pink convertible too.
So the top came off...hmm....
Speaking of tops...you know what women and convertibles have in common?
They both look better with their tops off.
So, do we know when the WilsoDate is?
Wilso doesn't even know yet.
Calling her today. It's too early here yet.
Who you rollin' your eyes at, K?
C'mon...that joke was a DEE-LIGHT!!
Good luck with the chica, Wilso.
who ELSE but a tax lawyer in his 30s would wear a Billy Joel T-shirt?
Um, a tax lawyer in his 40s? Come on, nimh, you're smart enough to figure this stuff out.
More wisdom from The Onion on what NOT to do....
I CAN'T SEEM TO MAKE MY APARTMENT A SAFE SPACE FOR WOMEN
by Marvin Balsam
Like many single guys these days, I'm rather proud of my apartment. It's in a decent building, the furniture's tasteful, and I keep it nice and clean. All in all, it's a real nice place, and I spend a good deal of time keeping it that way. But if there's one area in which I've failed, it's in making my apartment a safe space for women.
I've tried, mind you. Believe me, I want women to feel comfortable when I bring them here. I play soft music, I have some rather nice houseplants and wall tapestries, I make them soothing tea. I even read from the many poetry anthologies lining the bookshelves. I do everything I can to make it a nurturing, woman-safe space. But then, just when I think I've got it down, another woman somehow winds up finding her safety compromised.
You'd think that after everything I've done to create a supportive, non-hostile environment, women would be safe here, but that simply isn't the case. Oh, it's not as bad as when I first moved in a couple years ago. It definitely wasn't a safe space for women back then, let me tell you. If you know where to look and what to look for, you can still see the signs. There were a few times that women felt so unsafe, they insisted on leaving right away, and I almost had to force them to stay. I can even remember one comely young co-ed who got so uncomfortable, she tried to force her way out.
I don't remember what happened after that.
The problem can't be the neighborhood. My apartment's in a good part of town: reasonably close to shops, right between two nursing colleges, and a five-minute van ride from the deep section of the river. And, like I said, the interior's totally redone. I've got a nice collection of Native American pottery, some cozy floor rugs and plenty of world-music CDs. What could possibly be more woman-safe than that? It's perfect! At least, so I thought until I tripped over that waitress in the shower one morning.
So, obviously, there's still a lot to do. I suspect that my chin-up bar could be contributing to a phallocentric and possibly misogynist environment. And I wouldn't want a woman to spend too much time in the trophy room?-women don't like taxidermy. Furthermore, the makeshift workshop in the bathroom could be "othering," as could the giant strap-on six-D-battery razorcock above the fireplace. And it can get pretty awkward explaining why, once inside my place, you need a key to get back out. These things are all on my to-do list.
Okay, so my apartment is still a work in progress. But when I'm done, I want any woman, no matter how big a lying, betraying, filthy whore, to feel safe here. I think I have a good idea of what still needs to be done. I have pretty strong feminine instinct, probably because Mother dressed me up like a little girl until I was 14. Perhaps I'm not as good of a listener as I could be when women are trying to express their emotional and survival needs. It's just a matter of being sensitive and trying to understand what they're saying?-even when they've lost their tongues. With their help, I just know I can make this a safe space for women.
I think I know that guy...
I thought it was Slappy writing under a nom de plume....
Fishin - good luck!
slappy, I'm guessing it was you all that I was rolling my eyes at, but I'm too lazy to go back and look.
Cav - that's a great find!
Cav, that's a TOTALLY CREEPY find. I mean I laughed (or at least chuckled nervously) but... ewwwwwwww....
My first date wasn't actually a date...it was really a fig, I just mixed them up.
