Hmm, Will Knucklehead Fight Kleinheider?
Nashville Knucklehead also tries to sweet-talk me today.
Gentlemen! I swear, if I had known that blogging about marriage would get your attention like this, I would have started blogging about marriage 15 years ago. I would have invented blogging just to have grouchy cantankerous men tell me a thing or two about the way things are between men and women.
While I try to devote this forum to funny tales of crazy chicks and blow jobs of yesteryear, Auntee B got to me the other day when she posted a long and eloquent argument (as only she can do, 3 or 4 times a day) about how straight men should not stand for the messages sent by society that we are all pigs. I told her that we didn't hear such messages, then made a witty and charming remark about eating my own poop for lunch. She responded as though we were an old married couple. She ignored what I said and asked if maybe I actually heard the messages and subconsciously internalized them. She didn't like my answer, so she asked the question a different way. Well, the answer is still no, I don't hear the messages in society about how men are pigs, and now I'm here to tell you why.An old married couple? That tickles me. I can't even tell you.
And Aunt B., if you need someone to reach into you clogged disposer, just let me know, you cute little ol' feminist. /* virtual smack on the ass*/I can unclog my own garbage disposal, thanks, but I could use somebody to come over and change my oil. Let me know if that's in your skill-set, Knucklehead.
posted by Aunt B at 2/21/2006 03:04:00 PM
12 Comments:
You are very popular with the boys.
Is change my oil a metaphor for something.
Liken when a man says he needs a lube job?
Oil changes do involve a dip stick.
Newscoma, that's only because Sarcastro hasn't showed up to tell them how dull I am in real life.
Boy Scout, I hadn't intended it as any kind of come-on. I really do need my oil changed. And considering how well all my suggestive suggestions have worked on you, I've about given up on them as a means of getting me laid.
You told me not to.
And I appreciate that you've picked this moment to do what I tell you.
I got your oil change right here, toots.
B,
If you want, while these guys are figuring out if you're kidding, I can just come over and teach you how to do it yourself. :)
I'll film it!!
Didn't we have some live blogging of an oil change a few weeks back? I remember something about the Butcher and some worrying.
Oh, W., you're so cute in your engineery way. Sure, for engineers, once they start a task, it's just as easy to finish it as it is to throw up your hands and say "fuck it, I'll do it later."
But for the Butcher? Each task must be started a number of times before being completed once. Right now, I'm waiting on an oil change and a new light in the kitchen and the litterbox being cleaned.
He is, in return, hoping I will clean the tub.
Someday, I imagine, we will drown in our own clutter and when the authorities finally find us, our corpses will be stiff and obstinate, just like usual.
Knucklehead, that would be an actual oil change, so not much use in filming it. Wait, unless you want video of some chick using tools and getting oil and car grease on her... Nevermind.
Oh, I see. I misread what you wrote. I thought you said ;) but it turns out you said :)
Behold the innuendo power of the shift key!
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