Sounds like a very entertaining game. But remember, he isn't really a public figure, so we can't call him a slut or a prostitute (unless he's a Republican.) On the other hand is modeling underwear being a good citizen? Probably if a Democrat is doing it.
I have to send this to someone I know named Guillaume.
Start with this: It was a dark and stormy night when this prick felt nothing at his grandmother's funeral. Then, a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.
I don't understand the theory of designer underwear. Under-wear. Why would you buy a designer garment whose very name suggests it remains hidden from public view? It's like plumbing your house with designer pipes.
More troubling: I've come across designer underwear before during a few romantic interludes, and it kills the mood instantly. One guy had a pair with cartoon truck-fabric and blue seams. Another was blue fabric with green borders. Similar to Althouse's distaste for men in shorts, bi-chromatic underwear or underwear with prints on them says "for children." Those were some of the very few times I've ever felt guilty and shamed before making love, and guilt is not a good feeling if it isn't tempered by being breathless and flushed.
And why would I even buy American Apparel underwear when the model looks so sickly and gaunt? There are plenty of underwear designers that use tanned, muscular, handsome men for models. Are they going the Humane Society route? Would sad music play in the background if my speakers were up? "Every year, over 2,000 Guillaumes are euthanized. Please. Support American Apparel underwear models." Their marketing department obviously doesn't understand male psychology. This site is clearly meant to appeal to women who buy their boyfriends underwear. But not husbands. No man would marry a woman with such dreadful taste in underwear.
Looking at him makes me sick. If you need silly underwear and don't want to be grossed out, try 2-(x)ist. But if you go out with me, may I suggest Hanes?
William Jordan was born smiling. His parents were devout loving Christians. His puppy grew into a beautiful romping collie much like Lassie. His girlfriend, who he met while swimming at the YMCA, loved his sense of humor. But he was poor after his parents were killed on the highway by a PR man for Emanuel Rahm who was busy sniffing coke while driving on the wrong side of the highway. His girlfriend said "Why don't you go to Chicago and make some money there." The very idea of going to Emanuel Rahm's city made him sad. Glancing in a mirror as he packed to go, he realised that his sadness had something unique. He went to a modeling agency, got a great job, married and lives happily ever after.
She has found an image on which to project Camus' Stranger. She describes the existentialism of an estranged underwear model.
What I see is a kid who needs a strong cologne and a stick to beat back the nubile young women who upon smelling it try to tear off his underwear in a frenzy.
Chet was in the mailroom opening and sorting mail. He has a machine that takes a stack of mail and zips through the whole pile running each one across a razor cutting off the bottoms, he stacks them upside down so it slices through the top. Chet is tidy that way. Suddenly Malcolm burst in and said, "Chet come with me."
"Why? What?"
Malcolm said, "We need you to model buddy." And Chet goes, "I aint no model." Malcom said, "You are today."
No way. Way. No way. Way. No way.
Way, you little twerp. Look. We have to do this now and all the rest of us are giant hairy Sasquatch, so it's you.
Chet knows the underwear is crap and that is why he is unhappy. He would get out of it if he could but he could not. Thus began Chet's modeling career. It was brief.
I don't understand the theory of designer underwear. Under-wear. Why would you buy a designer garment whose very name suggests it remains hidden from public view? It's like plumbing your house with designer pipes.
I think it's for people whose underwear is regularly seen... or for those who are hopeful.
Whatever that link is locked my pc up hard twice to the point I had to power off. So while making up back stories for underwear models looks breathtakingly exciting, I have no idea of the reasons or rules (if any) and will have to decline to participate.
This seems an interesting exercise in how vague a simile can be, yet still communicate the point - in this case, "...mournful French-Canadian asexual..." means "nullity."
Of course, the term "President Barack H. Obama" lends itself, if only by the historical accident of a nation gone (most hopefully) momentarily stupid, to also mean "nullity," "incompetent," "grifter," or "mendacious."
I know him as the mournful French-Canadian asexual who is allergic to most foods and metals.
This thing known as Guillaume is both asexual and a "he"? Before one creates a backstory one must know a little natural history, no?
Asexual Guillaume is not a he at all, in fact "he" is a cunningly contrived automaton constructed entirely from molded yeast, hence the pasty complexion, the dull listless eyes, the mindless expression. Guillaume is less of a fashion model and more of a prokaryote colonial organism as are most Quebecois.
I do like that allergic to most foods and metals bit. There was a time when attention whores and pity parasites could get their fix by claiming to allergic, the ubiquity of the allergen being proportional to expected level of empathy to be showered. I once knew a woman who claimed to be allergic to the 20th century, but I lost touch with her. I think she got over the allergy after she got abducted by aliens.
wv: heirdu lestatte (the first funny wv since the "new look" blogger) - The famous tonsorial vampire created by Ann Rice.
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25 comments:
Sounds like a very entertaining game. But remember, he isn't really a public figure, so we can't call him a slut or a prostitute (unless he's a Republican.) On the other hand is modeling underwear being a good citizen? Probably if a Democrat is doing it.
I have to send this to someone I know named Guillaume.
Oh, God, where's Hatman?
This will set him off against breeders, Christers, anybody drawing breath.
Start with this: It was a dark and stormy night when this prick felt nothing at his grandmother's funeral. Then, a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.
Dear God! I had no idea this kind of inane shit went on in women's heads!
I don't understand the theory of designer underwear. Under-wear. Why would you buy a designer garment whose very name suggests it remains hidden from public view? It's like plumbing your house with designer pipes.
More troubling: I've come across designer underwear before during a few romantic interludes, and it kills the mood instantly. One guy had a pair with cartoon truck-fabric and blue seams. Another was blue fabric with green borders. Similar to Althouse's distaste for men in shorts, bi-chromatic underwear or underwear with prints on them says "for children." Those were some of the very few times I've ever felt guilty and shamed before making love, and guilt is not a good feeling if it isn't tempered by being breathless and flushed.
And why would I even buy American Apparel underwear when the model looks so sickly and gaunt? There are plenty of underwear designers that use tanned, muscular, handsome men for models. Are they going the Humane Society route? Would sad music play in the background if my speakers were up? "Every year, over 2,000 Guillaumes are euthanized. Please. Support American Apparel underwear models." Their marketing department obviously doesn't understand male psychology. This site is clearly meant to appeal to women who buy their boyfriends underwear. But not husbands. No man would marry a woman with such dreadful taste in underwear.
Looking at him makes me sick. If you need silly underwear and don't want to be grossed out, try 2-(x)ist. But if you go out with me, may I suggest Hanes?
William Jordan was born smiling. His parents were devout loving Christians. His puppy grew into a beautiful romping collie much like Lassie. His girlfriend, who he met while swimming at the YMCA, loved his sense of humor. But he was poor after his parents were killed on the highway by a PR man for Emanuel Rahm who was busy sniffing coke while driving on the wrong side of the highway. His girlfriend said "Why don't you go to Chicago and make some money there." The very idea of going to Emanuel Rahm's city made him sad. Glancing in a mirror as he packed to go, he realised that his sadness had something unique. He went to a modeling agency, got a great job, married and lives happily ever after.
She has found an image on which to project Camus' Stranger. She describes the existentialism of an estranged underwear model.
What I see is a kid who needs a strong cologne and a stick to beat back the nubile young women who upon smelling it try to tear off his underwear in a frenzy.
To each their own back story.
Let's make up stories about women based on the shape of their hats.
Chet was in the mailroom opening and sorting mail. He has a machine that takes a stack of mail and zips through the whole pile running each one across a razor cutting off the bottoms, he stacks them upside down so it slices through the top. Chet is tidy that way. Suddenly Malcolm burst in and said, "Chet come with me."
"Why? What?"
Malcolm said, "We need you to model buddy." And Chet goes, "I aint no model." Malcom said, "You are today."
No way. Way. No way. Way. No way.
Way, you little twerp. Look. We have to do this now and all the rest of us are giant hairy Sasquatch, so it's you.
Chet knows the underwear is crap and that is why he is unhappy. He would get out of it if he could but he could not. Thus began Chet's modeling career. It was brief.
I don't understand the theory of designer underwear. Under-wear. Why would you buy a designer garment whose very name suggests it remains hidden from public view? It's like plumbing your house with designer pipes.
I think it's for people whose underwear is regularly seen... or for those who are hopeful.
Pink bait
This seems like an incredible waste of time, and that's coming from someone who is expert at wasting time.
Whatever that link is locked my pc up hard twice to the point I had to power off. So while making up back stories for underwear models looks breathtakingly exciting, I have no idea of the reasons or rules (if any) and will have to decline to participate.
"...mournful French-Canadian asexual..."
This seems an interesting exercise in how vague a simile can be, yet still communicate the point - in this case, "...mournful French-Canadian asexual..." means "nullity."
Of course, the term "President Barack H. Obama" lends itself, if only by the historical accident of a nation gone (most hopefully) momentarily stupid, to also mean "nullity," "incompetent," "grifter," or "mendacious."
This is fun. I should patent it as a game.
chickenlittle said...
"Pink bait
Not bloody likely.
What part of "asexual" don't you understand, lol?!
You can sell designer underwear to guys?
Who are these androgynous models in shocking pink underpants?
I may have missed the humor here, but I find the whole thing creepy.
Ooops..
I had assumed that the blogger was a very young girl/woman.
"It was brief."
Very shaggy dog you have there Chip.
I know him as the mournful French-Canadian asexual who is allergic to most foods and metals.
This thing known as Guillaume is both asexual and a "he"? Before one creates a backstory one must know a little natural history, no?
Asexual Guillaume is not a he at all, in fact "he" is a cunningly contrived automaton constructed entirely from molded yeast, hence the pasty complexion, the dull listless eyes, the mindless expression. Guillaume is less of a fashion model and more of a prokaryote colonial organism as are most Quebecois.
I do like that allergic to most foods and metals bit. There was a time when attention whores and pity parasites could get their fix by claiming to allergic, the ubiquity of the allergen being proportional to expected level of empathy to be showered. I once knew a woman who claimed to be allergic to the 20th century, but I lost touch with her. I think she got over the allergy after she got abducted by aliens.
wv: heirdu lestatte (the first funny wv since the "new look" blogger) - The famous tonsorial vampire created by Ann Rice.
Loved that. Hilarious!
Separately, that second-to-last paragraph was interesting.
American Apparel is basically a twink factory. Paging Titus!!!
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