a legendary “mom is around” fb update:

Filed neatly under Status Updates and tagged facebook, mom, prom. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.

#menshouldnever smell. Seriously, i do not want to smell your body odor from working out, its gross.

listen to her! via Twitter / Kaitlyn: #menshouldnever smell. Ser ….

Filed neatly under Status Updates and tagged body odor, twitter. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.

posted in CL in danbury CT December 09

You Farted in Trader Joe’s – M4W

You were the tall brunette with the near perfect body that farted in the bread section last night. I was the tall guy next to you that looked over and asked, “Was that you?” You quickly replied “No…Wasn’t me!” You almost seemed insulted I would ask. As the stink grew you continued to deny your flatulence, but it was evident. I tried to get rid of the stench by waving 2 loafs of Ciabatta bread. You proceeded to storm off in an angry manner. You are beautiful and even if you are a liar and fart like a Clydesdale, I’d love to meet up sometime.

Filed neatly under Letters and tagged craigslist, fart. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.

I just farted in the library and got mad cus it stinks really bad!!!

Twitter / Rashad Stephens: I just farted in the libra ….

Filed neatly under Status Updates and tagged fart, twitter. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.

She said it was midwinter… Snowing and quite cold…and the guy  had taken her skiing in the mountains outside Salt Lake City, Utah.  It was a day trip (no overnight). They were strangers, after all,  and truly had never met before.  The outing was fun but relatively uneventful until they were headed  home late that afternoon.  They were driving back down the mountain, when she gradually began  to realize that she should not have had that extra latte.

They were about an hour away from anywhere with a rest room and in  the middle of nowhere! Her companion suggested she try to hold it, which she  did for a while.  Unfortunately, because of the heavy snow and slow going, there came  a point where she told him that he had better stop and let her go  beside the road, or it would be the front seat of his car. They  stopped and she quickly crawled out beside the car, yanked her pants  down and started.  In the deep snow she didn’t have good footing, so she let her butt  rest against the rear fender to steady herself.  Her companion stood on the side of the car watching for traffic and  indeed was a real gentleman and refrained from peeking. All she  could think about was the relief she felt despite the rather  embarrassing nature of the situation. Upon finishing however, she  soon became aware of another sensation.  As she bent to pull up her pants, the young lady discovered her  buttocks were firmly glued against the car’s fender.  Thoughts of tongues frozen to poles immediately came to mind as she  attempted to disengage her flesh from the icy metal.

It was quickly  apparent that she had a brand new problem due to the extreme cold.  Horrified by her plight and yet aware of the humor of the moment,  she answered her date’s concerns about “what is taking so long” with  a reply that indeed, she was “freezing her butt off” and in need of  some assistance!  He came around the car as she tried to cover herself with her  sweater and then, as she looked imploringly into his eyes, he burst out  laughing. She too, got the giggles and when they finally managed to compose  themselves, they assessed her dilemma.  Obviously, as hysterical as the situation was, they also were faced  with a real problem. Both agreed it would take something hot to free  her chilly cheeks from the grip of the icy metal!  Thinking about what had gotten her into the predicament in the first  place, both quickly realized that there was only one way to get her free.  So, as she looked the other way, her first-time date proceeded to  unzip his pants and pee her butt off the fender.

(this story was told on Jay Leno)

Filed neatly under Bad Dates, Letters and tagged ice, pee, poop, tonight show, utah. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.

So I was waiting for this woman I met online for our first date, drinks on the waterfront. She was late. I sat nervously, looking around. Maybe she was here already and spying on me. I hate that. But then she walks in. I recognized her instantly, and she me. She walked up, smiling, offered her hand and said “I'm Pam. Sorry I'm late. Busy week at the office; I'm an accountant and April is the worst…”

I grabbed her arm, pulled her down to her seat and hissed in her ear. “Pam, we are surrounded by strangers! Don't you think you could be more discreet?” She was puzzled, or pretended to be. So I explained how foolish it was to tell me, a stranger, what she did for a living, not to mention advertising it to the whole bar. And, I thought to myself, not to mention the creepiness of such an inappropriate personal disclosure upon first meeting. What next, a description of her last orgasm? I shuddered inside.

We ordered drinks and talked. I whispered with appropriate caution; her conversational tone struck me as a bit too likely to be overheard, but I smiled and tried to ignore it. I felt sorry for her. I'd walk her to her car later to make sure no one followed her. She continued to offer intimate information, and to ask questions that made me uneasy. “Do you have brothers and sisters?” I vaguely alluded to siblings, but not to their genders, or even whether they were still alive. I do have siblings, but I have to protect them too. “What part of town do you live in?” I tried to stay calm. How could she ask that? Was she a stalker? Or just trying to gauge my wealth by my section of town? I felt like a hunted deer and a piece of meat, all at the same time. I felt bad about lying about what area I lived in. But what could I do?

Then came the killer question. Those four awful words that revealed her for what she was: WHAT…DO…YOU…DO? Now at least I knew I would never go out with this money grubbing whore again, who would risk my life by asking me such a question in a public venue. I excused myself to go to the restroom. Discreetly paid the bill, then snuck out the back way.

I moved to a different apartment that weekend. Just a precaution.

via best of craigslist: My horrible date after I noticed….

Filed neatly under Bad Dates and tagged craigslist, privacy. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.

I met this woman at work, and she worked in a different department. Ill call her Kleptomaniac Woman.I went out with her once, but there just wasnt really any chemistry there. I think that one of the reasons why there was no chemistry was that I couldnt help but notice that as we started to finish our dinner, she stole the salt and pepper shakers and a small bowl and hid them in her purse.I asked her, “Hmmm… I couldnt help but notice that you just pilfered the salt and pepper.” She replied, “Yeah, so whats the big deal?” She went on to explain that she just enjoys stealing things, and that all of her silver wear, glasses, and kitchen gear at home are all stolen from restaurants. Its one thing for a woman to steal my heart, but um… yeah.At this point, I realized something about myself. I had a picture in my mind of the kind of woman that Id want to date. I pictured a woman who was attractive, smart, etc. I decided at this point that I would need to amend that picture in my head to also include the quality of not being a compulsive thief. But I digress… back to the date. (read rest at site)

via My Horrible Dates 2.

Filed neatly under Bad Dates and tagged klepto, stealing. Comment or discuss at THIS SPOT.