HI!!!!bewties

WTF? And he keeps reposting the same garbled nonsense.

I fail to comprehend why all the womens who are fit for FEAR FACTOR PLAYBOY BUNNY EDITION are here on CL looking for a perfect match which can only be manufactured through sciences and deeds (Atheltic built,footballer,nice,rich,who knows to respect the women,tall,white,doesn’t pinch boobs on first date, doesn’t grab ass,pick nose,eat nose-pick, etc etc etc).They dont look at a mirror before posting in this section and realize that they are no great shakes although the womens demand everything in one man which is impossible??????

My original posting meant why should men always pay $$$ for a date as women are also getting too much out of a date(including the energy/pleasure through my raw animal sensuality plus a free meal from Burger King plus the pleasureness of my company).Why not both of them share the same in spending as well or tit for tat.

I have seen some very frustrating comments from one lady who may be a bit crazy not like me but why does it happen that when you shoot an email to every lady it lands you to a website meant for whores?????????????looking???????????????? for donations of $250 for quick sex. I mean I can take a nice lady out to Burger King and she takes the pleasureness of my company and I get the tat for tit for only like $10 bucks. Then she gets my raw animal sensuality. $250 for whores???????? CL needs to monitor such posters so that genuine ladies who want genuine romance with me can use this site.Any thoughts????????????????

Don't read this post

Don't read his either...

Couldn't resist? Well then you might be my type. I put out but I’m not easy so I'm gonna need a girl with little self control. I'm looking for someone that's fun and relaxed without too many hangups. I take care of my body so I expect the same from you.

About me, 6'0, 172, with a dark tan on my face, arms, and neck, but pasty white everywhere else. I have a squinty smile and snort when I laugh; I can cook and I smell like desperation. I'm currently a policy wonk, but after this Friday I will be collecting unemployment and watching chick flicks on Lifetime. I'm a confident adherent of the spaghetti monster faith that will probably act like a wuss. I'm sure you know the "wuss" type – I’ll call you 5 times a day because I am bored at home in my sweatpants, tell you that you're the one (especially if you’re making good money), confesses that he can't be without you (again, bored and im my sweatpants).... all after the first date. I'm very loving + committed in a relationship, and will suggest moving in together if you email me and I like your picture.

Last requirement. I get a lot of freaky messages here, so this is the "NO" list:
NO dudes, NO home porno invitations unless they pay well, NO i won't have sex for cash (OK, I will), NO bend-over boyfriends, NO i don't want to have sex with your wife (unless it pays well – cash, i.e. see unemployment).

If you're made it this far, don't stop now. After you've built up the courage, send me an email. It's cheap and easy, much like me ;) Include a picture if you've got it.

Spaghetti monster bless!



He gets letters:

" love what you are doing making fun of the tools on CL m4w postings. Keep up the great job."

"Everytime I read one of your messages, they crack me up! Thanks for the daily laugh."

C'mon and step up to the dinner plate

His "hang down" is seeking out your "stink." Yeesh.

Your bearded taco plus my Beefy McManstick means we're having all beef tacos for dinner. Don't be afraid to bring the salsa and guac.

I am a common marmoset

Even more a la the I am an onion guy...

I am a common marmoset.

I am a small, highly active mammal with a gastrointestinal tract adapted to enable caecal fermentation.
I am the smallest nonhuman primate commonly used in biomedical research.
In the wild I eat a varied diet which includes fruit, insects, lizards, eggs, small birds and the gum or exudates of trees.
I have fluffy white ears and will throw my poop at you.
My genus is Callithrix, but spell-check would change this to “Clitoris” if I let it.

Don't ask me to change, I am after all, a common marmoset.

Godly guy seeks virgin for some courtin' - no Mary-worshippers

I had no excuse for this one, except they're fun. And I haven't done one in a long time. And I'm hoping for more email suggesting that I need a good dunking.

Born-again, never married virgin seeks white female virgin for some godly Christian courtship. Not interested in Catholics, Presbyterians, Mormons, Methodists, Unitarians, Episcopalians, Christian Scientists, Vegans, or anyone else that might introduce me to exotic new ideas that might cause me to question my True Christian beliefs. I will, however, pray for your quick end and a speedy journey to a very hot place, where you will be spending all eternity wishing you were with God’s favorite people rather than roasting in a literal lake of fire, Amen.

Must be height and weight proportionate, into sunsets, walks on the beach, intelligent design, intolerance, Christian worship and fellowship, the book of Leviticus, protesting secular humanism, and judging the unsaved. Please no hang-ups or extra baggage.

Well-favored Catch Seeks A Nonconvergent Girl

I think I'm a much bigger catch. Much bigger.

I'm a catch. I know it. You know it. My mom knows it. I've proven it. I have signed and notarized documentation stating that I am a catch. I am, however, tired of girls wanting to be engaged after 4 months of dating. Ridiculous (6 months-maybe?)

Here's me:
1) 6'0, straight hair, great body, tan skin. Small man-boobs
2) Driven. (went to a great college, 5000 SAT, excellent job, etc etc and so forth)
3) Picky. I've got a strong track record, I date the under 2%, I'm sorry, thats just what I like. I don't abide fatties or vapid women or women who haven't appeared in “Playboy” or “Juggs” magazines.
4) Extremely well-traveled (Canada AND Mexico)
5) From a loving family...that's right, family's very important to me (especially my mommy).
6) I love cuy (good cuy, chactado, served with beer and potatoes).
7) And of course much more than that.


What do I want:
1) Someone who's into fitness and into me (that means a great to greater body), J-Lo butt ok..
2) A girl who smiles often (bc that means she's happy, or faking happy, doesn't matter to me)
3) Someone w/ something interesting to say who enjoys reading or puts me first. I'm special and worth it.
4) No pop-culture casualties, fatties, religious nuts, vegans, or other such occultists .
5) A girl who keeps her friendships and loves her mother and father but adores me more.
6) A girl who's stylish. Unstylish girls bore me, and scream that you serious help in the stylishness department. I could teach you, but that is not my job.

You will send me
1)Your picture and one sentence. Thats it. It will get mine. If I like your one sentence. And don't make it one of those super-long Faulkner-esque paragraph long sentences. I am ADHD.I will never get through it.

This ad is the anomaly. This ad is of import. This ad is making you sleepy. Sleepy. SLEEPY. You are a CUY!

36 year old Viking

In response to the 30 year old viring, whatever that is. Also, an ode to those looking for their partner in crime. How unusual.

Help me burn and pillage...please (I guess one could say I was looking for a "partner in crime"). [/rim shot]

L'Oréal, Ph2o, or Neutrogena?

This oddball posts the same crap daily. Landingstrips or smoothy? Let's date!

Ok,

In one of those interesting 6 pm trips to Angles, where several of my female friends seemed to forget they had a metro guy in their midst and decided to share too much information, I found out their preferences regarding certain kinds of face creams. If that was not enough, they decided to interrogate me on whether I preferred L'Oréal FUTUR-E Moisturizer + a daily dose of pure vitamin e, Ph2o Everyday Moisturizer, or Neutrogena Healthy Skin Visibly Even Daily Moisturizer Spf 15. I said, “None of the above." I prefer Anthony Logistics for Men Anthony Facial Moisturizer with SPF 15. It's got extracts of bilberry, sugarcane, maple sugar, orange and lemon to erase fine lines and blotches, panthenol which helps to retain moisture, and vitamins A, C, D and E to nourish my face skin. It also protects my skin with SPF 15, and helps minimize the signs of aging. And it's gentle on other regions if you get my drift, heh.

They seemed to be intrigued at my rational for my preference, but I was even more intrigued by their choices. Hence, I am setting out on an informal fact gather mission. (No yellowcake involved) =0

What is your preference? And why?

Also, do you think this question only relates to sexually active women? I don't care to know you if you aren't going to be sexually active with me.



He gets letters:

"I fan-wank you from work and also from home, I sure hope you have a desktop folder you put fan mail into to re-read on rainy days."

"Estee Lauder has one of the best products in the market, hands down."

Skinny Girls and a Dirty Mind

Serial posting married guy seeks dangerous curves and a dirty mind, replete with sensuosity. Or something. Ugh.

I assume that an ad directly seeking a companion to play XBOX and read comic books with and share highly erotic physical pleasurosity would not have the desired results, but that is my ultimate aim here. This adventure would also include the mutual touching of privates. I touch your privates. You touch my privates. Then we giggle. I’d like to chat first and maybe get an ice cream cone before hatching this plot late this month or early next month.

In addition to the aforementioned skinny girls and dirty mind, my ideal partner in crime would have a very high drive, be very orally inclined, imaginative, non-judgmental, and preferably single. We can explore all the possibilities of intense sensuosity: me on top. Or we could get really dirty and you could be on top. The mind boggles.

I am a Grenache varietal grape

More a la the I am an onion guy...

I am a Grenache varietal grape

I produce high yields when given plenty of irrigation in warm climates
I’m widely planted in South Australia, particularly in the Barossa Valley and McLaren Vale wine regions.
I make a very good rose and I am also used as blending material, particularly with Shiraz and Mourvedre varietals.
As a rose I go well with barbeques, but I am certainly not out of place with the best cuts of meat.
For a special summer treat try me like that with tapenade or a few grilled sardines.

Don't ask me to change, I am after all, a Granache varietal grape.



He gets letters:

"Bravo! Bravo! Eloquent and hillarious."

Fear not my ample manhood

Mark Leyner day, I guess...

I’m sitting here at my keyboard pounding out this missive as I digest my lunch. Panda-burger with cheddar. No bun. I burp. Listening to Rilo Kiley. I’m in my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. Blue Armani frames with blue tinted glasses to better stalk my prey. Although now I do not stalk. I type.

The red line at 8:30 AM was chock full of lovelies. This inspires me to pose. I pose for these poseworthy creatures—Front Double Biceps, Front Lat Spread, Side Chest, Back Double Biceps, and signature Back Lat Spread. One lovely turns bright pink and faints. Another goes into labor. A third wants me to sign her breasts. I whip out my Mr. Sharpie and oblige. A fourth wants a charcoal rubbing of my abs. Have at it, babe!

At Judiciary Square I’m thinking that I’ll hit the gym before I hit the office. I’m thinking, lime green banana hammock is a good look for Thursday in the gym. I’m thinking, my pecs, abs and biceps are in sore need of a workout.. Preacher Reverse Curl, Seated Concentration Curl, Crossover Chest Fly, Pullover Crunch. These are on the menu.

Me you ask? Atkins dieting. Eating endangered animals. Posing for the poseworthy. Garments that accentuate my ample manhood. Dignity. That is what I am about. And if you want me to sign your breasts with my Mr. Sharpie, drop me a line.

Maniac seeks Skinnydipster; or is it Skinnydipster seeks Maniac?

Daily repeater, so you know it has got to be working...

36 year old male who "has a beautiful mind" (thanks mom -- that's a very nice thing to say) from ginko biloba, crossword puzzling, reading fiction and non-fiction, and bending spoons with the power of thought alone seeking brilliant, beautiful, and charming counterpart in her late 20s or early 30s for mind control experiments, investigating the conspiracies of the Illuminati, general ufology, and all around good times.

I'm into looking good, dressing fashionably, swimming naked, independent film, sad Lloyd Cole music, and weekends in bed doing stuff like thumb wars or the “antler dance.” You have fairly recondite and esoteric tastes involving a passion for abstruse obscurism, redundancy, food, and martinis and are looking forward to the new theatre season and exhibits at Cherry Red and the Mutter Museum. Oh -- and you’ll never admit to have read “The DaVinci Code."

Arrivaderla tutti!

He gets letters:

"I've seen the Craigslist ad from which your - much funnier - ad is based. I just had to tell you how hilarious I thought it was! I'm not quite what you're looking for age-wise (I'm twenty-one), but I couldn't resist dropping you a line just to give props."

"What the Hell is the Antler dance?"

Looking for $exy woman between 27-35

Wondering what thi$ guy really i$ after...

Looking for a $exy di$creet woman that want$ relation$hip with a hand$ome $ingle guy. I’m pretty low maintenance. Maybe get married and have kid$ (do people $till do that??).

$orry. My $ key i$ mi$$ing. I’m not $uper rich.



He gets letters:

"The collateral amusement you give me as you endeavor to self amuse is really worth the time you spend."

"Can you be creative enough and compose a message without "s"? so you don't have to type "$" and confuse people? :)"

"Hee. Very creative."

Hot True Christian Romance

Because he did. And becuase I am bitter I guess...

Born-again, never married virgin seeks white female virgin for some godly Christian fellowship and Aryan baby-making. Not interested in Catholics, Presbyterians, Mormons, Methodists, Unitarians, Episcopalians, Christian Scientists, Vegans, or anyone else that might introduce me to exotic new ideas that might cause me to question my True Christian beliefs. I will, however, pray for your quick end and a speedy journey to a very hot place, where you will be spending all eternity honoring our Lord and Maker in a literal lake of fire, Amen.

Must be height and weight proportionate, into candlelight dinners, intelligent design, intolerance, gunning down baby killers, the book of Leviticus, protesting secular humanism, and judging the unsaved. Please no hang-ups or extra baggage.

I am Ngapi-Jaw

I think I need a new schtick...

I am Ngapi-Jaw

I am a stir fried concoction containing chiles, garlic, onions, dried shrimp and fermented shrimp paste.
You make the paste with a barrel of dead fish and salt and let it set in the sun.
Now and then you press a board down on the stuff and collect the goo that comes out.
In Thailand I'm known as Kapi and in Indonesia I'm known as Blachan.
While you're making me, your house will reek of dead and rotting fish.

Don't ask me to change, I am after all, Ngapi-Jaw.

I am Welsh Rarebit (L-B-C version ya'll). Holla.

Maybe I can make myself more hip for "five feet of fury.

I'm Wizzle Rizzle

I am a chizzle sizzle comprizzle of buttizzle flour, Dizzle mustizzle Worcizzle sizzle sizzle pizzle bizzle crizzle hot sizzle and chizzle.
I am sizzle ovizzle toizzle ryizzle brizzle.
In thizzle Wizzle tonguizzle I am cizzle Cizzle.
You’ll enjoy eizzle mizzle in thizzle wizzle bizzle.
I am a bizzle hizzle I am wizzle chizzle crizzle soizzle brizzle goodnizzle.
I tizzle only 15 mizzle to prizzle and yizzle four sizzle as a sizzle dizzle.
Thizzle food nizzle dot com rizzle my dizzle lizzle as “Eizzle."

Don't ask mizzle to chizzle I am aftizzle all, Wizzle Rizzle.

I'm Welsh Rarebit

For "five feet of fury," today I thought I'd also be a vegetarian dish.

I'm Welsh Rarebit.

I am a cheese sauce comprised of butter, flour, Dijon mustard, Worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, beer, cream, hot sauce, and cheese.
I am served over toasted rye bread.
In the Welsh tongue I am called Caws-Wedi-Pobi.
You’ll enjoy eating me in the winter because I am a bit heavy.
I am warm cheesy creamy soaked bread goodness.
I take only 15 minutes to prepare and yield four servings as a side dish.
The food network dot com rates my difficulty level as “Easy.”

Don't ask me to change, I am after all, Welsh Rarebit.

I'm a Tootsie Pop®

Someone (see below) suggested I should now be a Tootsie Pop®.

I'm a Tootsie Pop®.

I have a hard candy outer layer.
You won’t want to bite into me to reach the center as I am hard and may injure your teeth.
But, you’ll enjoy licking me and licking me until you get to my center.
Just how many licks will it take to get to my soft and chewy center?
It depends on a variety of factors such as the size of your mouth and the amount of saliva you can muster.
But when you do you'll get a chewy chocolaty treat when you get to the inside of me.

Don't ask me to change, I am after all, a Tootsie Pop®.



He gets letters:

"Yes, I laughed. Loudly, too. I love the ad! I wonder what the onion guy thinks of your ads. Does anyone ever e-mail you to complain about you spoofing their ads? BTW, a woman in the W4M section included your Ariyan baby making Jesus ad in her list of M4W ads that she thought sucked. She didn't get that it was a joke. Which, of course, makes it even funnier."

I'm a Twinkie®

This guy? He's an onion. Me? I'm a Twinkie®.

I'm a Twinkie®.

I have a spongy yellow outer layer.
You'll want to bite into me to reach the center.
But, you’ll enjoy biting into me because of my spongy yellow outer layer is made of a cake-like substance.
You'll probably want to not eat me all of the time as I’m highly caloric.
You'll get a creamy delicious treat when you get to the inside of me.

Don't ask me to change, I am after all, a Twinkie®.



He gets letters:

"Good Twinkie ad. How about how one about many licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?"

Any hot virgins for godly Christian fellowship?

Because I can. And because he did.

Saved, fundamentalist Baptist, never married, virgin seeks white female virgin for some godly Christian fellowship and Aryan baby-making. Must be into long walks on the beach, intelligent design, intolerance, the book of Leviticus, good old-fashioned Christian worship, and judging the unsaved. Please no hang-ups or extra baggage.

Catholics, Presbyterians, Mormons, Methodists, Unitarians, Episcopalians, Christian Scientists or any other such occultists unwelcome. Sorry, I don’t intend to know people who will be roasting on a spit above Satan’s hot coals for eternity.

Saved guy seeks lily white virgin for godly fun

Well, it pissed them off on CL so much the last time, lets see if it will again.

Bible believing, saved, fundamentalist Baptist fella seeks lily white virgin for serious courtshipping. Must be into long walks on the beach, intelligent design, tithing, the book of Leviticus, good old-fashioned Christian worship and fellowship, and judging the unsaved.

Catholics, Presbyterians, Mormons, Methodists, Unitarians, Episcopalians, or any other such occultists unwelcome.



He gets letters:

"The addition of Barney is perfect. And "judging the unsaved"...LOL! Thanks for my laugh of the day!"

"There is a contradiction in your posting. You dn't want Presbyterians. Mr. Rodgers was a Presbyterian minister. You shouldn't make like of salvation. It's obvious you think Christians are a joke. Either way, as blasthamist as you are being, I'll pray for you tonight. I really feel sorry for you. God will forgive you if you so ask. If you are serious about being a Baptist, you should rethink your posting."

Flame Warz!

Yesterday's post (see below) started a small flame war on CL M4W. First I was accused of being vile vermin. Then a racist. I mean proclaiming your need for some hot Aryan love isn't PC but it certainly also isn't racist. Still, I love these folks. Even my Mary-worhipping friends. My part in the minor kerfuffle...

I'm still lookin'. I mean, the number of hell-bound heathens on CL claiming to believe in Jesus are legion. They go by names like Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Moonies, Branch Davidians, and Catholics. No matter the name, they will roast on a spit above Satan’s hot coals for eternity while me and my beloved Christian sweetie sip grape juice with Jesus in Heaven. So please, no drunkin' Mary-worshippers.

Godly white virgin seeks like female

Virgins!

White male Christian, never married, virgin seeks white female virgin for some godly Christian fellowship and Aryan baby-making. Must enjoy walks on the beach, candlelight dinners, guns, grassroots promotion of the Unborn Child Pain Awareness Act, Bible reading, celebrating the One True Word of Jesus, saving neighbors, George W. Bush, and have no hang ups.



He gets letters:

"Do you like anal sex?"

"Aryan baby making?! You. Are. Vile. I hope there's a special hell for vermin like you. Last time I checked, other than that whole 'No one comes to the Father but by me.' thing Jesus said, God wasn't exclusive. Again I'll say it, because it bares repeating: You. Are. Vile.

mmmm...Pussy" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Celebrating my 141st post with a not Omari...

While I do like cats and have had cats as pets, I probably prefer dogs. I grew up with dogs. First my Kerry Blue Terrier “Muffin” and later “Douglas,” a Cocker Spaniel. Douglas is more my mother’s pet than mine and she treats the thing like a third child, referring to him as my younger brother, as she sits complaining about the heat with her head stuck in the freezer. I guess that is menopause for you.

Menopause, or as I call it, that thing that has temporarily rendered my mother crazy, is a natural part of a woman's life. Technically it is the stopping of periods or menses. The average age is 52 however menopause can occur in the thirties or sixties. This time in a woman's life can be dramatic or quite simple, it is usually different for every woman but every woman does stop having periods. Some people call it adolescence in reverse - a rocky time with fluctuating hormones and emotions. As menopause progresses, a drop in estrogen can create thinning, tightening, and dryness in the vulva and vagina. These changes can lead to such discomfort that some women come to dread sex because of the pain. Poor mom. And poor dad as well I guess.

Dad can be a bit of a pervert. And I guess like father, like son. I’ve seen him grope mom in public, which I’d think was pretty cute if I wasn’t their kid. Sort of like, aw, he loves her so much he paws at her chest in a grand public display of affection. Now I’m not sure if this “vaginal discomfort” thing is happening to my mom, and I don’t think it’s appropriate to ask, surprisingly considering with my family everything seems to be fair game for discussion around the dinner table including squeaky beds late at night, folk remedies for preventing miscarriage (don’t ask), masturbation, and also Republican “values.”

And I figure if mom is suffering from vaginal atrophy, Dad, like me, has high speed internet. And if surfing for porn is good enough for me, well then it’s good enough for him.

Ok, you can ask me about the folk remedy for preventing miscarriage, but consider yourself warned.

Welcome to MY World

This is just a pome I'm writting and thought I would share it as it evolves. Not really interested in criticism, I've never claimed to be a great pote. I was just inspired by the writter of the other pome and the generous criticism from a female reader who thought that the guy wanted to go from Karl to Cassandra. Oh yea and I could also use a date too. Just don’t be fat.

This is my World
Well, only some bits
First, I’m a guy
And I’ll be staring at your tits

For some they’re to little
For me it’s nothing
Just as long as they jiggle
While we are fucking

When I take you from behind
I’ll be pulling your hair
Like I’m riding a horse
At some county fair

The sex will be hot and sweaty
After hours our strength may fade
But you need not worry
I’ve got gallons of Blue Frost Gatorade®

Thats it so far. Erato, the muse of love potery and mimicry, has somehow escaped me. Hope your day is going well.

Behold the awesome power of my banana hammock

More homage to Mark Leyner. So much better than that guy who sometimes feels like a nut?

Another sweltering DC morning. I’m waiting for the 42 bus to take me from my Adams Morgan compound to the Dupont Circle metro, where I take the red line to Judiciary Square. I’m wearing my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. And frankly, the leather pants are starting to smell a bit “musky.” I’m not so much worried about an offending odor so much as I am of the high concentration of my superhuman pheromones emanating from my banana hammock region. Just catching sight of my prodigious manhood has been known to induce pregnancy in the infertile and labor in the pregnant. But merely catching a whiff of my scent of Eros? An unknown as I embark on my journey to work.

I step onto the bus and already can tell there is trouble ahead. They see what I see in the mirrors over my bed—total fitness and power, muscle mass, ripped definition, stamina, intensity, mental focus. And before long in this enclosed space I have women running their hands over my rock hard glutes, washboard abs, and grabbing at my banana hammock. I’m worrying about paternity suits. Finally we get to the Circle and I’m heading to the metro, lovelies hanging from my biceps and clinging to my legs.

I somehow manage to get to the office, barely settle into my iced-double-half-calf-mocha-latte-something-or-another, and in walks the intern. Brad. What a name. Brad. Sensually speaking Brad’s having “size” and “duration” issues, so I have to draw from my vast knowledge of tantrism. I say, “Brad, try this. First rub your lingam with wasp stings and massage it with sweet oil. When it swells, let it dangle for ten nights through a hole in your bed, going to sleep each night on your stomach. After this period use a cool ointment to remove the pain and swelling. Never fails. And her yoni will be pleased.” And Brad’s all, “Ouch. You did this?” And I’m, “Me? No need. Never had a problem in that department. I’m just here to impart my vast knowledge of tantric sensuality.” With that I head down to the lunch room. I’m thinking, manatee-liver pate and toast points.

Style. Grace. Dignity. Shameless self-promotion. Langue and Parole. A ripped physique that can induce labor. That is what I am about.

"No Fat Chicks" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

It's been a couple of days since I've done an Omari. So here you go...

I once had a horoscope that read “You’ll take an action that has no other purpose but to make someone crazy. And to you, this falls under the category of ‘fun.’” The horoscope went on to say that the beautiful think about me is that I am a provocateur. And, truthfully, I probably am.

Provocateur. Someone who stirs up trouble? Or someone who goads someone into a certain type of behavior? An agent provocateur is a person employed to associate with suspected individuals or groups with the purpose of inciting them to commit acts that will make them liable to punishment. I guess like a spy. Except I don’t work for a government and I only do it for my own personal amusement. I’ll say things to a girl I’m dating like, “Wow. Look at the sun!” And then she does, becoming temporarily blind. I wonder if that is why my parents wonder why I’ve never married.

I’ve never dated a supermodel, but I did date runway model in High School. Or she became a runway model after High School in any event. All of the other women that I’ve dated long-term weren’t perfect. They weren’t heavy, but they weren’t rail-thin either. They were what I suppose is considered normal. For what it is worth, their inner beauty shone brighter than their physical beauty. However, they’ve all been height/weight proportionate. And while others have, I’m not about to put “No Fat Chicks” in an ad because that just seems callow at best and downright rude at worst.

I was reading a friend’s blog yesterday and she had recently written about a major contradiction behind the new ad campaign for Dove®, which features images of not so slender women. You’ve seen them at bus stop shelters all over town. She notes that while Dove® is using more normal women in their ad campaign, the contradiction is that Dove® is also playing on women's insecurity about their "jiggly bits." Basically, it is ok to not be a supermodel, but it is not ok to have cellulite-ridden asses. I also noted with some irony that the post previous to that one she was stuffing her face with cotton candy. Basically spun sugar.

So, for my amusement, I reworked the ad seen below and sent it to my friend. I must be off my game. She didn’t sock me in the jaw. Yet.



He gets letters:

"that ad is hilarious! i love it!"

"I’m on myspace with friends a lot (all bored at work, you see) and for the last few months our blogging and posting bids to ‘out-inappropriate’ each other have frequently included the phrase, or pictures pertaining to ‘banana hammocks’. Oh, and the phrases ‘sorry, no fatties’ on all of our bulletins. We’re all crude, horrible perverts (not really, I hope), and we’d like to salute you. Rock on with your bad self. And your banana hammock."

So...women don't like “the one-eared elephant" on the Metro?

While I am too lazy to look up other instances as proof, this guy is a bad bad serial poster of the same crap. A plucky woman even called him out on it recently.

Turned up noses, glares, sneers, and cries of panic seem to be what I have gotten the most when I do the one-eared elephant for women on the Metro. My left pants pocket turned inside-out and my penis dangling from my fly. This is a shame, there are so many beautiful women riding the rails...



He gets letters:

"Perhaps your member is singularly scary. Perhaps they think you are mocking an elephant with a disability."

I'm no superhero. I slip on my banana hammock one leg at a time.

More tribute to Mark Leyner.

I’m no superhero. While I have more there to pack in, I slip on my lime green banana hammock one leg at a time. I’m pretty much your average guy. Only better. This weekend I saw “March of the Penguins” and thought that those emperor penguins looked quite tasty. Through my special supplier I ordered some eggs and emperor penguin bacon which I had this morning for breakfast along with a nice Chilean breakfast wine. After that I slip into my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. I head for the 42 bus to Dupont Circle where I pick up the Red Line to Judiciary Square.

Instead of heading straight to the office, I head to the gym. I practice my posedowns after my workout and shower in front of the mirror. Take it all in -- muscle mass, ripped definition, intensity, stamina, mental focus, dignitiy. Instead of my Carla Berle leather pants, I change into my orange and lilac choli and lehenga that Kareena Kapoor wore in the movie "Jeena Sirf Merre Liye." She gave it to me after I saved her from an elite force of geriatric pygmy ninja when she was filming "Ajnabee."

Good thing. Leaving the gym I am attacked by a small cabal of bashi-bazouks armed with spears and light machine guns. But me in my orange and lilac choli and lehenga, I'm fully prepared to unleash the horrible fury of my Shohei-Ryu-Bollywood Karate. With savage intensity I'm singing Mehbooba Mehbooba . Not the standard Mehbooba Mehbooba, but the E-groove Mix of Mehbooba Mehbooba. They are all dazzled by my speed, style, the flourish and panache of my orange and lilac choli and lehenga, my strength, and my precise but soulful rendition of the song. I handily defeat my foe, but who among my sychophants betrayed me? Who knew I was going to be at the gym? They'll pay. I have no patience for these new age milquetoasts from craigslist who would sell me out.. Why? Because my undergarments bulge in the right places much more than theirs? And for what? The pleasure of seeing me undignified? I know not.