09.06.07

What if…? Suzanne’s story

Posted in Bad boys, Female superiority, fiction at 10:01 pm by angela

meThis is the second in an occasional series of femdom-based political satire based on those pesky scandals. Unfortunately, I find I’m staring at a huge backlog in the upcoming wave of hypocrisy. Oh, noez!

October, 2007

Every time Suzanne thought about it, her blood began to boil. Don’t think about it, she said to herself. They told you that would just make it worse. Just think about getting away from it all to some peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet? Unimaginable after all this time. But Laura and Condi had agreed that she needed some time to herself, away from everything and everyone, family and friends included.

What would she do with herself with nothing scheduled? No activities? No PR events? Sure, there was a program of some sorts at the Academy for women taking an extended leave from their lives, but it hardly seemed like that something would be anything she needed.

She looked out the airplane window. There were thick forests punctuated by small meadows and lakes below. The flight’s descent into the capital had begun.

Again she thought, how could he do this to me?

She looked at the card they had given her to read and reread.

“Your strength is within you, waiting to help you take control of your life. It has always been a part of you. You will do what needs to be done, and you will do it gladly.”

________________________________________________________________

After a long plane trip, a long ground trip to her destination always seemed to take so much out of her. This was different. The driver was waiting for her in the terminal to pick up her luggage and take it out to the vehicle. He was a very polite and attractive young man, dressed smartly in a chauffeur’s uniform. His deference to her seemed entirely genuine, not like that of so many drivers who are clearly being civil only because they’d be fired from their job if someone complained.

She stretched out her legs in the back of the limousine. From the china teacup she sipped the hot tea he had poured her. Feeling drowsy, she closed her eyes…

The bouncing of the limousine on the unpaved road awakened her. Looking around her, she saw woods and fields. It was getting late, and clearly the sun would soon be going down. The driver took a turn down a side road into a wooded area. Within minutes she saw a high wall looming ahead. The driver pulled up to the gate, which opened long enough for him to drive through, then immediately closed behind him.

Unlike the wooded area outside, the campus was open manicured lawn with stately maples and oaks. Although Suzanne could see that the walls extended both ahead of her and to her right, gently rolling hills obscured her view of the distance, so she could neither see how far the campus extended, nor whether it was walled on all four sides.

The driver pulled up in front of a stately stone mansion. As he got out, walked around to her door and opened it, offering her his hand to help her out, the front door of the building opened. Another young man in a similar uniform walked smartly down the steps, opened the trunk of the limousine, removed her luggage, and carrying it back up the steps with him, disappeared inside.

Suzanne walked up the pink marble steps with the limousine driver. As they passed through the carved wooden door into the lobby, he closed the door and said to her, “I will show you to your room now.”

She glanced around the lobby, amazed at the marble walls, the sixteen foot high windows, the gilded antique furniture, the stone columns, and the gleaming black grand piano. The two of them slowly walked up the curving marble staircase to the elevator. While waiting, she gazed down at the scene beneath her, and saw a stained glass window directly across from her, in shades of pink, rose, beige. In it there appeared to be a woman in a long, flowing dress, with a man on all fours in front of her, kissing her feet. Was that a leash in her hand going to a collar on his neck? Her eyes must be playing tricks on her after such a long, tiring trip. She shook her head a little bit, made a mental note to look at it again when she was well-rested, then got into the elevator.

The room was ostentatiously furnished, but cozy rather than spacious. A double bed with a gleaming silk tussah bedspread was up against the wall in one corner of the room. In the center of the exterior wall was a set of French doors. Suzanne walked up and peeked through the lace curtains. She could see a small balcony with a carved stone railing looking out onto a view of the campus. On either side of the French doors were smaller windows with matching lace curtains. In front of the left window was a small mahogany table with two chairs. In front of the other was a relaxing-looking stuffed chair beside a reading lamp.

She turned to look at the opposite wall. As she watched, the young man opened a series of doors, revealing a built-in desk with a computer on the work surface and a bookcase overhead; a small kitchen counter with a refrigerator beneath and a microwave oven above; a spacious closet already containing her suitcases; and finally the door to the bathroom. He motioned for her to go inside.

The bathroom was breathtaking. The walls were marble with pink and apricot streaks. A large tub was faced with the same marble. In one corner stood a walk-in glass block shower. Gilded fixtures sparkled in the light of a crystal chandelier.

He stepped out of the bathroom and pointed at a button on the wall by the apartment door. “If you ever find you need anything, just press that button and someone will come to help you immediately.

“What I really need is someone to draw me a bath and unpack my suitcases while I relax in the tub,” she sighed in a half-joking manner.

“Certainly,” he said, and striding over to the tub, turned on the hot water. Steam rose from the water, and the tub filled rapidly. He took a small vial from the shelf, opened it, and held it under her nose. The hypnotic scent of tropical flowers made Suzanne feel light-headed. “Will this scent be acceptable?” he queried. She gave a nod. He sprinkled a few drops in the tub and then added a handful of bath crystals. “Would you like something to drink while you are relaxing in the tub? I understand you like tea.” he said. Again she nodded and watched, speechless, as he drew some hot water from a spigot in the kitchen armoire into a china teapot, measured tea leaves into a silver strainer, and dropped the strainer in. He set a matching china cup beside the teapot on a silver tray, then a cloth napkin, a tiny box of sugar cubes, and a dish of cut lemons already in the refrigerator. She was still standing there, staring, when the timer went off. He removed the tea strainer from the pot. Carrying the tray into the bathroom, he set it on the broad expanse of marble surrounding the tub. He reached in the water, then asked if Suzanne would like to check the water to see if the temperature was satisfactory.

She walked over, put her hand in and rolled her eyes with delight. She seated herself in a wicker chair beside the tub and reached down to remove her shoes. The chauffeur immediately knelt down and removed them for her. He then stood, and pointed to a series of buttons on the wall. “These buttons control the lighting and music in this room. You should be able to find some music you like. Here are the tub controls, and of course, a call button if you realize you need anything.” He placed a pair of terrycloth slippers on the floor and hung a robe on a hook within reach of the tub. He poured her a cup of tea. “If you need anything, just call,” he said, carrying her shoes from the room and closing the door behind him.

As Suzanne slipped into the hot water, she smelled the hypnotic perfume rising around her. Glancing at the buttons on the wall, she pressed the ones labeled “AIR JETS” and “WATER JETS.” Oh, my. A cloud of bubbles rose to her chin.

She closed her eyes and relaxed, listening to the sound of the handsome young male opening her suitcase, hanging up clothing on hangers, opening and closing drawers, and placing things on shelves. What is this place? she thought to herself.

_____________________________________________________________

The note Suzanne had found on her pillow (with the chocolate mint) had been very specific, and very formal. Principal Quattrano requests the pleasure of your company at breakfast or lunch tomorrow. Please confirm your availability so that arrangements can be made. Ring the call button and give your RSVP card to the person who responds. She checked the box next to ’9:30 am’ and rang the bell. Within fifteen seconds there was a knock on the door. Another young uniformed male took the card and asked if she needed anything else. She shook her head. Bowing slightly, he backed away from her, turned, and disappeared down the hall and around the corner.

She set the alarm for 8:30 am.

_____________________________________________________________

At 8:30 am she awoke, well-rested if a bit achy from the previous day’s travel. Soft music filled the room. Sunlight streamed in through the French doors and windows. She pulled aside the curtains and opened the doors. A gentle breeze wafted through the room. Turning toward the bathroom door, she noticed that a tray was sitting on a small table just inside the room entrance. She walked up and peered at it. A crystal carafe of ice water and an insulated tea dispenser sat on the tray with a glass, a teacup, a spoon, sugar, lemons, and cloth napkins. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down in the upholstered chair under the window.

The Principal knocked on the door precisely at 9:30 am. Suzanne called out, “Come in,” and was surprised to see not only the Principal, but following her a young man pushing what looked like a room service cart. He opened the French doors wide and carried out the mahogany table and chairs, arranging them on the small balcony. He then quickly put a tablecloth on the table, set it with dishes and utensils, and motioned for the two women to be seated. He offered tea, coffee, milk, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and sparkling water, then put a plate of scrambled eggs, sausages, and potatoes in front of each woman. In the center of the table he set a basket of muffins and a small tray with butter, jam, cream, and sugar. He placed the beverages on a tray stand next to the table, asked if anything else was necessary, and bowing briefly, rolled the cart from the room.

Suzanne watched with very large eyes. The Principal said, “I know you came here on short notice, so you probably don’t know very much about the programs we have here. I’m here to give you a little introduction to our mission.” She split and buttered a blueberry muffin, crusty on top with a light glaze of sugar, moist and steaming within. “There are a great many women like you in our society, women who have sacrificed their own ambitions, even their own identities, in order to facilitate their husbands’ careers, only to find their husbands acting like sex-crazed amnesiacs in need of a severe kick to the behind. Ring a bell?

“The fact is that men have a need to be led. They need to be controlled. Left to their own devices, they end up following their penises, acting like delusional fools. Not only that, but they lose all productivity. Men who are controlled can achieve many things. Men who are out of control do dumb things like starting wars, stealing from the public coffers, having oral sex with interns, hiring prostitutes, and cruising public restrooms in airports looking for gay sex.

“But the most amazing thing is, it’s such a slippery slope that for their own actions they have lost any sense of morality or propriety. They convince themselves that whatever they want to do is what they deserve, and it is right. Not only that, they think that others will view their actions through this same self-serving moral filter. They want you to believe it is your fault, for being too demanding, too middle-aged, too… human. But you can hardly be blamed for not being aware of this.

“Given the opportunity, men behave like animals, the lower form of life that they are. The fact is that they will have sex with anything that moves, and a lot of things that don’t.

“One of our important missions on this campus is to take women like you, women who have denied or suppressed their inner strength while pretending that their husband is in control of his actions. We teach you to recognize your inherent female wisdom, strength and dominance, and finally, to learn to use it to control your husband. When you have completed this program, you will wish you had had these skills years ago. You will understand that not only is it possible for you to control and guide your husband, but it is your obligation to him, to your family, and to society. Men are weak. They think their sexuality is their strength, but it is their weakness. You will use your husband’s sexual weakness to control him, to make him do whatever you wish and beg for more control.”

Suzanne looked doubtful. She took a bite of sausage, savoring the rich, spicy interior and the crisp skin. She tasted a creamy nugget of scrambled egg, a piece of golden potato, and a bite of a sweet corn muffin. “This is really good,” she said, gesturing at her plate.

“Oh, yes,” agreed the Principal. “All of the work which is done on this campus is performed by males who have been trained to our exacting standards. There may be more than one way to do things right, but that’s no excuse for screwing up. When we are done training males, they become highly productive. They will do things the right way, and if they don’t know how it should be done, they ask how you want it. They know there is no excuse for doing substandard work.

“Our other main mission on this campus is to take young males who have botched their chance of graduating from high school. They are uneducated, lazy slackers, incapable of following directions. Basically, they have no potential to succeed in society without our help. Given the choice, they have chosen to do things wrong in an effort to get people to stop making demands on them.

“Unfortunately, these bad habits are so ingrained in them that we must remove all options. They can follow our orders, attend classes, begin to catch up on their academic work, learn social graces and treat women with respect, or they will be punished. Eventually they realize that the choice is theirs, and they grow to accept their fate. Only then can they begin to make progress. We provide them with the remedial education they will need to attend college or career training despite previous failures. We also give them the training they will need to follow orders from a woman and serve her well. When our mission is complete, these young males realize that they can never behave responsibly without a woman’s control. They know that they need it, and they crave this control. They cannot live without it.

“Of course, this is not a vocational school. So we also help these young men to set career goals for themselves, so that through their future employment they will be able to support a superior woman in the style she deserves. This will, of course, greatly improve their chances of finding a woman who is willing to put in the effort needed to keep them on the straight and narrow.”

The Principal reached for the tray. “More tea, Suzanne?”

_____________________________________________________________

In the next week, Suzanne became accustomed to the campus routine – or at least, in her little corner of the campus. Every day she had a visitor or two who spoke of various aspects of Academy life and training – instructors, young women in the domme track, a slave or two speaking of their early days in training at the Academy, and how they came to their calling. Even Laura came by to speak with her, Laura, who had come so long ago and never left, who had become a role model for the young women. The transformation was amazing to behold. Laura was now proud and assertive. She would never play second fiddle to a man again – or as she joked, an inferior man. If Laura could do it, she could do it. Not only that, but Suzanne realized that she had a husband in desperate need of her loving control, and an obligation to control him. “Tough love” was the keyword here.

By the end of that week she was ready to slip into campus activities. Males assigned to provide services in her section now wore the standard campus uniform – a white loincloth with the Academy logo on it. They bowed slightly as she approached them in passing on campus, or knelt in front of her if she chose to address one of them.

As she progressed in her program, she began to meet some of the young males in the main program. They were clearly works in progress. They were sullen at times. A woman needed to keep on top of their behavior at all times to make sure they never got away with anything. Otherwise they would always be trying to get away with something.

Boys who had violated rules during their class time were brought before the Punishment classes to serve as a sort of cross between bad examples and volunteers for the demos. In this way, the women learned to mete out punishment, to react swiftly to words and not let males get away with anything. She noticed that sometimes the same males would show up repeatedly. As each male carried around his chart with him on a flash drive worn on a chain around his neck, she could check to see on how much progress he had made, or how often he received what sorts of punishment just by plugging it into the small laptop she carried with her. The teacher would demonstrate this by plugging a hapless male’s flash drive into the computer at the front of the class, projecting the data and analyzing it through the applications on the computer. It was clear that most of the males that were brought before her class were still fighting the system, while many others she ran into on campus offered up their flash drives gladly, proud to show that they had had no recent violations.

The better a male’s cumulative behavior, the better work assignments he received, the more freedom he was allowed, and the faster he was able to progress through his program. It was simply a matter of punishment and reward. But oddly enough, they soon began to find comfort in the restrictions and the affirmations. They wanted to be told what to do, and they wanted to be kept in line. They needed it.

_____________________________________________________________

Amazingly enough, Larry showed up. “It’s time to come home now, Suzanne,” he said. “People are starting to ask questions about you. You belong by my side.”

She laughed. “People have finally stopped asking questions about you, haven’t they? You know why? Because they think you’re gay. You have convinced them that you’re not only gay, but a delusional liar.”

He stared at her in shock. She had never spoken to him like this before. Not only that, but she had always supported him, always taken his side.

She continued, “I’m going to give you two choices. It’s up to you. Choice 1: I get a divorce and tell the world what a lying, cheating idiot you are, how you used me as a screen for your sleazy cruising behavior. How you’ve had zero concern for family values all this time. That the only things that mattered to you were power and gay sex. ‘Idahomosexual!’” She laughed. I have nothing whatever to be ashamed of. You are the one who’s been humiliating yourself all this time.”

“Your only other option is to accept that you are unable to use your penis responsibly. I will take control. I will tell you what to do and when to do it. I will tell you where to be and when to be there, and if you are not there, I will punish you like the mental and emotional twelve year old that you are. Outwardly you will show the world that you are capable of being all the things you pretended you were. But I will be the boss. You will behave inside and outside the home. You will never be in charge again.”

“What’s it gonna be, boy?” She impatiently tapped her long red fingernails against the tabletop. Red fingernails? When did Suzanne start wearing blood red nail polish?

He started to whine something about her being a proper wife. She slapped him across the face, and he recoiled. “I don’t want to hear any crap from you. I guess you made your decision, eh? I’ll call the press for a conference in the morning to make my announcement.”

“No, wait,” he sputtered. “I need some time to think about this. I can tell you…in a few days.”

“Oh, so you can have one last fling cruising public restrooms looking for sex with other guys who aren’t gay, either? You cocksucker! It’s now or never, fucktard!” She saw hesitation in his face, a glimmer of rational thought. “Get on your knees in front of Me, NOW, or get out of my life!”

He looked down at the floor and sank to his knees. Suzanne smiled and reached for the handcuffs.

07.12.07

Larry Flynt tracking 20 congressional sex scandal leads

Posted in Bad boys, Modern life, Political rant at 4:13 pm by angela

“If someone’s living a life contrary to the way they’re advocating … then they become fair game,” Flynt told reporters. “I don’t want a man like that legislating for me, especially in the area of morality.”

Well, somebody’s got to do it. Unfortunately, it can’t be me, so I’m glad that someone so well-qualified as Larry Flynt is willing to step up to the plate.

Last time I talked to my congressman on the impeachment issue he was so worried about work grinding to a halt in case of impeachment proceedings that he didn’t seem to mind that the administration was in the process of stealing the country blind, subverting the constitution, spying on citizens and mining the data, killing thousands of our military and hundreds of thousands of civilians abroad, packing the courts with judicial activists who think that people have too many rights and corporations not enough…

Whatever. You go, Larry!

Story

And for good measure…

Fla. State Representative Accused Of Soliciting Sex In Men’s Room. Never ends, does it? Any of you this idiot’s Mistress?

07.08.07

Domain value

Posted in Bad boys, neocon crackpots, Political rant at 2:35 pm by angela

I just discovered leapfish.com, where you can look up a domain name to find out its value. I’m not sure what the dollar value is based on. I like it, though.

I’ve got brand spanking new domains and established domains that have never been used valued at $800. They seem to run from $20 to, well, this one seems to be the most valuable I’ve got. Altogether I’ve got about 7 grand worth of domains. Who would pay me for this domain or any of the others? I’m a bit hazy on that one.

07.06.07

Psychology Today: Ten politically incorrect truths about human nature.

Posted in Bad boys, Biology, Communications breakdown, Science at 9:34 am by angela

Yes, there are definable differences in the behavior of men and women, differences that can be attributed to reproductive strategies. Some of these I have speculated and written about before. This article pulls it all together nicely, and in a quicker read than any book by Stephen Pinker.

Read it closely. This will be on the test.

Article

06.28.07

Sicko!

Posted in Bad boys, Modern life, Political rant at 8:27 pm by angela

Watch it now. I’m watching it this very moment.

Sicko.avi

06.24.07

This explains everything

Posted in Bad boys, Communications breakdown, irrational thought, Modern life, neocon crackpots, Political rant at 10:47 am by angela

Well, well, well.

I posted a link to this Wikipedia article on the Dunning-Kruger Effect in my Breaking news blog. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that this is much too important to just put up a link and hope someone will draw conclusions from it.

The Dunning-Kruger effect quantifies scientifically the old saying that “ignorance is bliss”. The less one knows about a subject, the more likely they are to rate highly their knowledge or skills pertaining to it.

Apparently, when you are ignorant of a subject, you are unaware of how much there is to know. This was relatively easy to test in an academic situation. It was reliable – as students began to master a subject, they also began to downgrade their assessment of their own mastery of it.

For instance, I often run into students who tell me they speak a foreign language. When I ask if they speak it at home, they say they learned it in school. The only way they could say that they “speak” a foreign language while being so utterly preverbal – which they are – would be if they had never been exposed to a situation where the language is being spoken.

Just as when teaching science classes, where kids come up with all kinds of bogus pseudoscience. No, sorry. The world is not 3,000 years old. I don’t care if they taught you that in christian school. It’s not good science, and it’s not good religion, either. The proper fundamentalist version is that the world is about 6,000 years old.

See? To believe that is true, you need to be ignorant of science, religion, and of history. Fortunately that is an easy thing to be.

Being ignorant of absolutely everything (know anybody like this?) is the best route to becoming a know-it-all. In fact it seems that persons like that are subconsciously aware that acquiring knowledge would render their wall of ignorance permeable. Thus, they avoid all facts, and they assert that those who oppose them are tainted by, have been “influenced” by facts.

For a person like this, truth can only be discovered by pure thought untainted by facts or data. Truth achieved through pure thought in this way is eternal. It need not adapt itself to reality. In fact, for a person with this frame of mind, it is a moral imperative to dismiss, deny, or pretend that confounding facts do not exist. Reality is obligated to adapt itself to the self-conjured “truth”.

In fact, ignorance is not only blissful, it is empowering and self-affirming. Ignorance is its own reward.

Think Bill O’Reilly, George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Ann Coulter. Think about how this country seems to be heading directly into a category 5 storm with blind and deaf madmen at the helm. Need I go on?

06.18.07

Dealing with phishing

Posted in Bad boys, Crime, Phishing, Spam at 10:03 am by angela

I thought it was time to do a little public service work here. Like many people, I’m tired of receiving those phishing emails. You know, the ones that tell you you may have had unauthorized activity in your account, and you need to use this link to login right now to get it straightened out.

Or maybe you don’t know, which is why I’m trying to do this as a public service and not just poking fun at the idiots. It’s pretty obvious to me that if people didn’t click on their link and type in their account info, thus giving god knows who access to their accounts, that these emails wouldn’t be going out. The crooks would give up.

But I’ve heard perfectly intelligent people relate to me how they were phished not once, but multiple times. So I’m going to show you what to look for in the hopes that I save at least one potential victim from the phishing scam.

First of all, consider what account it came in on. Is this the account that you normally receive email from this company? If not, then it’s absolutely a scam. I actually heard a woman say that she responded because it came in on a different account. No. That’s completely wrong.

Do you even have an account with this company? The fact that you receive emails from multiple companies that you don’t even have accounts with asking you to verify information should make you suspicious of all contacts like this, even when you do have an account with the company in question.

The email address I received this on is one that goes with this website. I do no day-to-day business on it, just stuff having to do with clients and porn. Therefore, I should not be receiving official correspondence on it from financial institutions, and thus, it’s all phishing.

The webmail account I use will not show suspect images, even in the html mode. So I can’t show you the header image. But you may see an exact replica of the official company email header. It may even link to that company, to give you the illusion that this is an official email.

On the other hand, you may see a poor imitation of the company logo. So watch for that.

So looking at this email I received, first of all, you can see that they did not address me by my customer name. (1) If they do not do that, immediately assume it’s a scam. In this case, I am not a banking customer of Bank of America, but even if I was, I would assume it was a fake for this reason alone.

Now look at (2), the link address. Many people probably don’t know that when a text link shows up, it is actually a piece of text that links to a URL you don’t see. Most of the time when a URL shows the link is same. But there’s no reason it has to be. You know that any piece of text can be a link. So http://principalquattrano.com/news,
Breaking news!, http://www.whitehouse.gov, http://www.georgebush.com, and even http://www.georgebushistheantichrist.com all link to my news blog. Clearly none but the first two should be linking to my news blog.

If you look at the link, it looks official. It starts with ‘http://www.bankofamerica.com’, which is the company’s official website. Now look in the yellow box at the actual URL you’d be going to if you clicked on that link. When you mouseover a link in Opera, this is how the actual link address appears. In most other browsers you will see it at the bottom of the window. Mouse over my links above, so you can see where they are actually linking to.

This link goes to a URL ‘http://www.baliparty.com’, which clearly has nothing to do with the Bank of America website. I followed it to a Japanese company, but could not get any more specific information than that. In any case, seeing that the two URLs are different should raise red flags for you.

Now look at (3). “Tank you”? These are often full of spelling errors. Spelling matters. No big company would send out an email with dumb, really dumb spelling errors like this. It’s telling you the thing was written by a foreigner.

And finally, (4). They’re going to put a ‘temporal’ hold on your funds? What the hell does that mean? You’re going to have access in the next life? The correct word is ‘temporary’.

Like I said at the beginning, they wouldn’t be sending these emails out if suckers weren’t clicking on those links to send their account login to Japan and other faraway places. Don’t be a sucker. Read and think.

And if you’re still not sure whether your account has been compromised, go to the company’s website the way you normally do, through your bookmark, or by typing the company URL into your browser.

06.14.07

Guys and baggy saggy pants

Posted in Bad boys, Fashion and style, irrational thought, Modern life, What women want at 2:08 pm by angela

LOUISIANA TOWN BANNING SAGGY PANTS; PLANS FINES, JAIL TERMS FOR VIOLATORS

The fine actually would apply in the case where a male’s gonads were exposed when his pants slipped down.

I guess that’s a problem there in Louisiana. You don’t see too many of that style of pants falling down here, though you do see a lot of guys walking around holding their pants up.

According to Carl Broussard, the mayor of Delcambre, the fine city where this issue has caught the interest of local lawmakers,

“Just wear it properly. Cover your vital parts. I mean, if you expose your private parts, you’ll get a fine. If you walk up and your pants drop, you get a fine. They’re better off taking the pants off and just wearing a dress.”

Ok, guys. It’s time for a reality check.

If you wear pants like these, ask yourself why you are. Now if the answer is “to impress girls”, that’s the wrong answer. Girls don’t like pants like that. They think it’s stupid to wear pants that are always in the process of falling down. And, believe it or not, women just don’t want to see some random guy’s ass crack or whatever, nor do they want to see his icky underwear. The best way to describe it is that to a female, such a thing scores very high on the “ew” scale.

If you’re wearing pants like this, you’re doing it to impress other guys. Not women. Competing with guys in this way to see how low you can get those pants to ride is a guy thing.

Suspenders?

The story

05.27.07

Not exactly the Darwin awards…

Posted in Bad boys, Biology, irrational thought at 4:37 pm by angela

OK, somebody explain this to me. And this.

Some guy explain it to me.

Nah, I was kidding. I don’t seriously expect guys to understand why a member of their own gender might voluntarily decide to do something with a good potential for not only removing him from the gene pool, but causing a great deal of pain and suffering to tender parts of his anatomy at the same time.

05.13.07

Boys will be boys

Posted in Bad boys, Communications breakdown, humor at 1:43 pm by angela

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day!

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