Category Archives: What the …

Tucking Fat Folds

Question:  If your spouse snores (although he adamantly denies that he snores), would a jury of your peers (assuming they are married to snoring spouses – since that is what makes them your peers) find you innocent and uphold your claim of justifiable homicide?  Hmmm.  Something to ponder following another night of little sleep. 

I love Mr. Farish.  I do.  I do not love watching and listening to him as he delves deeper into a REM state leaving me floating on the surface of dreamland.  I do not love hearing his nasal passages expressing their joy as they are released from the confines of his body.  I do not love prodding him to turn over only to have him release a thick stream of hot-steamy-stinky-confined air into my face in the process.  Aarrgghh!  Now to be fair it isn’t entirely his fault, but come on, snoring is not an enjoyable lullaby in which one can easily be lulled into slumber. 

Last night was one of those never-really-got-into-REM-nights.  We’ve all had them.  You toss and turn, readjust the pillow, kick off the blankets, put the blankets back on, lay on your left side, roll to the right … all the while your spouse sleeps soundly on.  On nights like this I usually have really strange thoughts/dreams.  While still aware of household sounds my mind is strangely transferred, bringing forth thoughts I dare not think during the day.  Suddenly I have a zillion failures.  All the woulda-coulda-shoulda’s come floating to the surface.  The deliciously dark chocolate covered raisins I snacked on earlier have suddenly turned into large masses of blubbery fat, that quickly adhere to various parts of my person ala Gwyneth Paltrow in Shallow Hal.  Roll over.  Fluff pillow.  Kick off blankets.  Doze.  I am now standing on the scale and watch as the needle inches higher and higher.  I envision tucking fat-folds into my pants, trying to zip them up.  Looking down and not finding my toes.  Doom.  I haven’t paid the bills.  I missed an important meeting.  I haven’t studied for finals, (am I the only person that still has finals nightmares?).  Roll over, fluff pillow, pull blankets up, poke Mr. F. who is still blissfully sleeping whilst continuing to snore up a thunderous storm. Watch clock. Roll. Toss. Fluff.  Turn.  And on it goes until the only sound worse than snoring is released into the room … meep-meep-meep …  

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SheMales Need Not Apply

See this man … LIGHT MY FLIER!  Malik Turner, outside his Harlem homeyesterday, has beenposting this personal ad at payphones around the city,including this onein Hell's Kitchen.

This is one, Malik Turner, a lonely man of 40 years old looking for “promiscuous sex”: 2 girls to his one manly-man-self.  Applicants must be drug and disease free, no hookers, she-males, transvestites or dominatrix need apply.  No, Mr. Malik Turner just wants what every red-blooded American male yearns for; commitment free lovin’. 

It seems that our poor hero has been having trouble in the female department and decided to broaden his prospects.  How? you ask.  Possessing the brain of a 4 year old, (gosh, I hope I haven’t offended any preschoolers here), Mr. Turner hand wrote and posted fliers that he subsequently posted on public payphones around the city of New York… nice!  

See for yourself …

Click to read!

Just in case your readers aren’t up to speed, I’ll break it down for you …

First the stats:      Age – 40, lives at home with mama, single (well I should hope so), sorts mail for UPS.

Now while I would love to outline all of Mr. Malik Turners ‘favorites’ I think the real important stuff (outside of his love for the Lamborghini and Ferrari) is the actual requirments that he has posted for the many respondents to his ad.                 ladies? Are you ready?

Nationalities: American, Canadian, Hispanic, British, Australian, Italian, Swedish and Native American within the age range of 21 -45.  Interested females should be big chested, leggy, curvy, voluptuous (not fat), with a gorgeous face and long fingernails.  Hair color must be either blonde or red and it must be LONG … there are no exceptions here ladies.  

Now for the real nitty-gritty: Habits.  Must not smoke, may drink  occasionally and be very promiscuous (remember the 2:1 ratio mentioned above).  Applicants must be willing to take turns paying for dates, no freeloaders need apply, and allow this very special guy to use a condom (writers note: please ladies, please, do allow this man to use a condom, procreation should be discouraged at all costs).  May I reiterate that this fine offer is for lovin’ only, no commitments, just some mutual dutch-treat fun.

Now I would like to say that Mr. Malik Turner recieved lots of dates and made some very special new friends from this finely written, very heart-felt flyer, but alas: some nosy-bodied someone called his mama to report what her dear son had been up to.  Mama wasn’t amused.  Now I can’t say for sure whether or not Malik Turner has been grounded, but I can pretty much guarantee he got a good talkin’ to … and I bet every one of those fliers have  disappeared from those phone booths.