fat girl's guide to yogaI’m not a fan of exercise.  Who is, really?  It’s a necessary part of life, but that doesn’t make it any less horrible.  When I was in high school and college I worked out all the time; so much so it was almost an addiction.  Sometime in law school I found a new addiction: Oreos.  And Doritos.  And pizza.  And Taco Bell.

Of course, I also discovered fat rolls.

I’ve gone back and forth with different workouts over the years but nothing has really stuck.  So I turned to the only option left. Yoga.

Yes, yoga.  At first I thought this would be a great workout because it meant I could sit down and call it exercise.  I also loved that I didn’t have to wear shoes.  I figured it couldn’t be that hard if it didn’t require footwear.

Obviously I was greatly mistaken.  After trying yoga several times I’ve decided that I hate it.  No.  I despise it.  I realize there are people who think it’s great, but there are also people in the world who don’t like cookie cake.  It takes all kinds of crazies to make the world go ’round.

Since I want to save my readers from the misery of downward dog, I’ve created a fat girl’s guide to yoga.  It’s pretty with pictures so it’s easy to read.  Yoga requires effort but following a guide on how to do yoga should be effortless.fatgirlsguidetoyoga (2)

I’m on the web other places this week!

Why Water Parks Are Like Bars

What’s In The Kardashians’ Storage Unit

Can you believe it’s already Tuesday?  It snuck up quickly on me, which is funny, because this week’s Tinder Tuesday candidate looks like that’s exactly what she would do…or rather, what someone did to her.

Yes, this week’s Tinder Tuesday candidate is a her.  Fortunately I have some awesome readers who are willing to send in candidates for my <ahem> analysis.  This week’s inaugural female Tinder candidate will not disappoint.  In fact, she’s got a little something more than most other candidates….

Pregnant Tinder

What’s that something more that she has?  A baby.  It’s a fricking baby.

I know what you’re thinking…this photo is the MOTHERLOAD!

So many places to start, but I’m going to look to her philosophy on life first.  At the bottom you will see what she says about herself.  “Life’s a garden…DIG IT!”  I’m not sure if that’s truly her philosophy, but one thing is for sure: she knows how to hoe (it up).

Who tries to catch a man when she’s in her last trimester?  Perhaps she doesn’t understand the “tri” means “third” and not “try to find a baby-daddy.” Perhaps she’s hoping she can meet someone in time to get in on his HMO.  After all, having a baby isn’t cheap.

Looking up to her face we notice she couldn’t be bothered to put on makeup.  Perhaps she prefers au naturale when it comes to makeup.  If that’s the case, I hate to know if she continues that theory when it comes to her bikini line.

It also appears as if her hair is wet, which suggests good hygiene.  Either that, or she goes a litle crazy with the Dep hairgel. Either way is fine with me.

What I don’t see on her fingers are any rings.  If she’s on a dating site I would expect her not to have on a wedding ring, but her lack of rings here makes me wonder if she’s married but her fingers are just too swollen for jewelry.

I also suspect this may not be her first bundle of joy.  To the right there’s a stroller with things on it.  Something tells me this wasn’t just given to her at a baby shower thrown at the local the country club.  Rather, this stroller has some wear and tear from a few love nuggets before the newest batch.

I also can’t help but notice that it looks like she’s in her childhood bedroom at her mom’s house.  There’s old-school furniture and nothing about this scene says “This is my own place but I chose to decorate it like a teenager.” If she did live somewhere other than her mom’s house, why would she have her TV, 1990s computer AND her stroller all within a foot of each other?

And let’s address that TV, shall we? I want to say it’s a TV/VCR combo but that would be too perfect.  It looks like she has a stellar collection of DVDs, so perhaps she’s stepped out of the 80s when it comes to electronics.  I can’t see what movies she owns but I suspect there’s a copy of “Knocked Up” in there somewhere.

Next to the TV cart is a large cardboard box.  I can only assume this is already filled with the necessities she would need to move into your place…after your second date.  After all, it’s clear this chick moves fast.

Looking to the right there’s a collection of odd glass statues sitting on two shelves.  I’m telling myself they’re not random glass bongs, but not doing a good job of convincing myself of that.

On top of the hutch there’s what appears to be a Pogo Ball from the 80s.  Yes, I just referenced a Pogo Ball.  Maybe that’s not it but if it is, I might track this chick down just to borrow it.  I bet I could find her in the maternity ward.

And let us not forget the dirty underwear strewn behind her.  As if we needed reminding that she readily takes those things off.

Okay, I think that’s it for this week.  After all, this chick has already taken a pounding.  Oh, and she’s been mocked here too.

Did I miss anything?  Let me know!

Week 5 of Tinder Tuesdays

GUESS WHERE I’M PUBLISHED THIS WEEK?!  SCARYMOMMY.COM

Check out my post about how water parks are just like bars.

 

How wineries are just like strip clubsMost adults have spent at least one day and/or night of their lives experiencing the debauchery of too much alcohol and too may scantily clad women dancing to bad music.  Oh, and they’ve also been to a strip club too.

Wineries and strip clubs are a lot more similar than we’d care to admit, and not just because both typically result in a marital argument and someone sleeping/passing out on the couch.

Since it’s the season for wineries, and it’s always the season for strip clubs, I thought it would be a perfect time to point out the ways wineries are exactly like strip clubs.  Exactly.

1. Everyone ends up dancing to hair bands from the 80s

From Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” to Erasure’s “Respect,” you’ll rock out to jams from the best decade ever.

2. Bad decisions are made at both places.

One involves an entire block of cheese and the other involves blocking out the memory of that one less-than-attractive dancer.

Reason #3 for why wineries are like (1)3. Someone ends up showing their ass…or boobs…or both.

This is not specific just to women. People at both places tend to be equal opportunity flashers.

4. You leave both with regrets.

…and with something sticky on your hands.

5. Neither have enough restrooms.

…which is why someone always ends up “watering the bushes.”

6. Both places have bottle service

One just costs a little more and comes with a lap dance.

7. You don’t want to be barefoot at either place, but you always end up that way.

It’s a phenomenon no one can explain.

8. The ride to and from the location is always hazy.

This is probably for the best because both are off the beaten path.

9. Someone always leaves in tears.

It’s usually a woman.

Reason # 10 wineries are like strip10. There’s a constant danger of stepping in vomit.

The only difference is the strip club vomit has remnants of the day-old buffet.

11. You end up spending much more than you intend to.

It always seems like a good idea to buy an entire case of wine because you might “need it later.”  You also typically feel bad for the previously mentioned ugly stripper, so you do your best to fund her college education via tips.

12. You’d prefer to forget what transpired there, and you usually do.

Alcohol is a beautiful thing because it makes you do stupid things and then makes you forget said stupid things. It’s why it’s so wonderful.

Now, get to planning your day trip to the wineries followed by your night trip to the strip club.  It’s family fun for everyone and you’ll barely notice you’re in a different place.

Cheers!

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Where else you can find me this week

The Fat Girl’s Guide To The Pool

Top 10 Excuses To Get Out Of Exercise

What Marriage Vows Really Mean

If Humans Were More Like Dogs

A Helpful Guide For North West On How To Deal With A Horrible Name

A Guide To Packing For A Weekend In Las Vegas

Can you believe it’s Tuesday again?  Fortunately, that means it’s time for another edition of  Tinder Tuesdays, where I take an actual photo from Tinder and mock it mercilessly.

This week is an…interesting photo.  I’m not sure how else to describe it, so I’ll just get to it.

Tinder Tuesday guy with snakeskin

What.  The.  Frick?

Let’s start by what is wrapped around his neck.  I want to say it’s a snake but I don’t think this guy is manly enough to have a snake that large.  If he does have a snake, it’s one he found in his herb garden.  He is currently housing the snake in a fish tank, feeding it fresh vegetables and garnishes.

He named the snake Roger.

So what is it exactly?  Something to sit on? Maybe he has hemorrhoids and needs to carry around an inflatable pillow, but he thinks this looks more manly.

It doesn’t.

Week 4 of Tinder TuesdaysAnd how about that two pack of abs?  What I love best about it is the fact that he’s sucking in…as if the focus of this photo is on his stomach.

Moving right along, let’s focus on that sweet prison tattoo on his bicep.  What exactly is that?  A carcass of an animal?  A steer?

Since I’m a fan of college football, I’m telling myself it’s the mascot of University of Texas.  Hook em horns.

Looking to the left of the photo it looks like he has a band-aid on his right bicep.  I’m not sure what caused his boo boo but I really hope it wasn’t a run-in with Roger.

Either way, I would have pegged him for a Pokemon band-aid kind of guy.  I’m a little disappointed.

I’m not sure where he’s posing for this photo but it looks like it’s right outside his grandma’s worn down trellis…the grandma who has been dead for 7 years.

I like to tell myself that belt buckle has her initials in her honor.

What do you see in this week’s Tinder Tuesday’s bachelor?  Discuss.

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Where else am I on the web this week?

If humans were more like dogs

A guide to packing for a weekend in Las Vegas

What your wedding vows really mean

Top 10 Excuses To Get Out Of Exercising

A helpful guide for North West for living with a horrible name

Keeping the “happy” in “Happy Birthday”

neonAs my dear readers know, I had a birthday this week.  Normally I love my birthday because it’s an excuse to eat cookie cake without people passing judgment on me (or at least if they do, they keep it to themselves).

When I was a kid I anxiously counted down the weeks until my dig day, knowing I would finally be a year older and closer to being an adult.

When the day finally arrived, my parents would wake me up singing “Happy Birthday.”  I always pretended to hate it, but secretly I loved the attention, even if my dad was off-key.

In the years leading up to my 20s, I continued to look forward to my birthday.

The 21 birthday is a coveted one because it means you can throw away the fake ID, or at least give it to another deserving soul.

The 25th birthday marked what I believe to be the age when people would start taking me seriously.

They didn’t.

Birthday in VegasOnce I got into my 30s, however, I stopped counting down to birthdays with excitement and started counting down with read.

I began thinking of those final days as the last moments I would be young and I cringed with each passing day as my birthday drew near.

This year I realized that’s not the way I want to live my life.  I turned 34 this year.  Yes, 34.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m in my mid-thirties and am no longer the young woman I used to be, and I’m okay with it.

Yes, I’m starting to see sun spots on my face and my chest is starting to show signs of years sunbathing with baby oil.  My feet are starting to ache when I stand too long and my stomach is far more sensitive than it used to be.

matt and lisa on mopedThe scars from my gallbladder surgery hurt when I eat too much and I know that sitting on bleachers will irritate my sciatica.

I know all of this, and yet I’m not sad.  I”m happy about it.

Why?  Because those sun spots on my face and chest are from vacations with my loved ones and afternoons at the pool with friends.

My aching feet are from years of exploring the world, hiking a mountain, walking across The Brooklyn Bridge and running a 5k.

My sensitive stomach is from years of drinking beer at the bar and eating at five-star restaurants in Beverly Hills (all the while wondering if we were going to be kicked out for being “commoners”).

Matt and Lisa Family Mexico 2011My gallbladder scars are from when I was hospitalized and became friends with my roommate.

My sciatica acts up when I sit on bleachers because of all the years of basketball games, World Series games, tailgating and college bowl games.

Yes, my body may be more achy than I’d like for it to be.  Yes, my skin may not be as resilient as it once was.

But my soul?  My soul is enriched more each year because of the life experiences I’ve had.

I’m not the person I was when I was 25 and for that I’m grateful.  I don’t want to be that person. It’s not that she was a bad woman; I liked her when I was 25.

But now, I’m the new and improved model.  I may have signs of wear and tear, but I think I’m better than ever.

Matt and Lisa on Beach-dark hairSo this year, I’m celebrating turning 34.  I don’t mean just that I’m having some cake and a day at the spa, although I certainly will do those things.

Rather, I’m talking about celebrating the 33 years I’ve been on this planet, creating memories and enjoying those people I love.

I’m going to look back over my years and take note of my accomplishments and my failures, because both have made me who I am.

I will also look forward to getting older instead of dreading it.  I will embrace each coming year, knowing I’m a better person each year because of the life I’m living.

Lisa with iceeSo when people wish me happy birthday, I won’t roll my eyes, mostly because the shingles on my eye won’t let me roll them.  But I also won’t roll my eyes and complain about getting older.

I will thank the well-wishers and remind myself that my birthday truly is a happy time.  It’s a time to celebrate life and making it through this crazy world one more year.

I will definitely drink to that (and then wash it down with cake).

 

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Love my stuff?  Of course you do!  Then please share it everywhere!  Then you can say you knew me when…

Week 3 of Tinder TuesdaysIt’s Tuesday and I’ve got a doozie lined up for you today.  It’s my birthday today so I wanted to do something extra special for this week’s installment.

This photo won’t disappoint.

From sequins to body hair to inappropriate floating devices, this week’s photo might just be my favorite one so far.  I’ve also decided that for this week only I’m going to post the picture.  I think I’ve done enough editing out to protect the real person’s identity, although I can’t imagine he isn’t well-known wherever he goes.

Either way, enjoy this week’s edition.  Please also feel free to send me money, candy, or any other birthday gifts you deem appropriate.

Tinder Tuesday HulkeThis guy is clearly festive, which is why I chose this as my birthday photo.  Check out his sequined banana hammock.  Nothing says “I know how to please a woman sexually” quite like gold sequined Speedos, although I doubt those are Speedo brand.  He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would go all out for expensive items.

I mean, he clearly can’t invest in a razor for his man-palace.

This brings me to the second part of the photo I’d like to address.  What the hell is going on in his genital region?  Believe me, I don’t want to look there but my eyes can’t help but be drawn to the explosion of hair fighting to escape the sequined thong.

I suspect he had a hard time shoving all of it into those bikini bottoms and the visible hair is what wouldn’t fit.  If you look closely it appears as if part of his junk is actually exposed, although we can’t be certain as its covered by bushes and debris.

Homeboy could use a hedge trimmer.

What makes this even more confusing is the fact that he knows how to groom himself, as his facial hair is…interesting.  For starters, it’s perfectly manicured into two bushes on either side of his face, separated by a strip of skin.  It’s what I can only assume is a landing strip of pleasure.  It’s like a backward version of a Brazilian.

The can in his hand tells me he knows how to party.  Is it a manly beer?  Pft!  Of course not.  It’s Margarita in a can…just like all the real men drink.

This margarita tells me he knows how to party, but is too lazy to make a batch himself (although I’m sure he’s made many batches of his own special sauce…if you know what I’m saying.)

Tinder Tuesday Hulke

Take another look!

Looking to the bottom left of the photo, I see floral cushions mimicking those from the set of “The Golden Girls.”  I suspect they may actually be from the 80s.  I also suspect they’ve seen more action than Blanche Deveraux, and probably have just as many STDs.

Mixed in with the cushions is what appears to be a giant inflatable wiener.  I’m not sure I know what to say about this.  It’s a giant inflatable wiener.  Nuff said.

As if an inflatable wiener amongst floral cushions isn’t odd enough…there’s an Asian umbrella.  Quite honestly, I expected to see an Asian umbrella in this photo, but I thought it would be in Mr. Love’s drink.  No such luck.

Maybe the umbrella means he cares about protection…or he likes tea at high noon.

And what kind of vessel is he riding?  (I  bet his pick up line would be something about how you should “ride his vessel.”)  It looks like he’s on a barge or large dock of some sort.

What’s particularly interesting is the fact that there is a pool on the vessel.   I’m not sure why he would need a body of water on top of another body of water.

The only logical conclusion is that he sweats profusely and likes to be near water to cool off and let his chest hair flow with the water.

It also looks like there’s a pole in the background to the right.  I can’t tell what’s flying from it but one thing’s for sure:  it’s his freak flag.

What’s also funny is the fact there are people in the background who don’t seem surprised or shocked that a sweaty and hairy beast in a sequined thong is drinking a can of margaritas.

I’m not sure what kind of party this is and I can’t decide if I want to be invited.

I bet there’s crabs in the water.

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Do you love my blog? Do you love Tinder Tuesdays?  Then please share me so others can get in on the fun!  Post me on Facebook, email my blog to friends…whatever.

Just don’t sign me up for Tinder.  I will seriously cut you if you do.

funny crap my husband says, july 2014My husband frequently blurts out nuggets of wisdom, most of which are unintentional, all of which are hilarious.  I’m not sure where he comes up with this crap.  I probably don’t want to know.

Either way, here’s the monthly installment of some of the ridiculous things he’s said in the past month.

And no, he wasn’t drunk when he said any of them.  It’s a fair question.

Millionaire

Lisa:  “Do you know what swagbucks are?”

Matt:  “No.  But I figure I must have at least a million of them in the bank.”

Dating Coach

Matt:  “Tinder is like Match.com minus the dignity.”

Musician

Lisa:  “You don’t know this band?”

Matt:  “No.”

Lisa:  “It’s Color Me Badd.”

Matt:  “Well, color me embarrassed.”

photo 1Pool Boy

Matt:  “There’s a difference between peeing in the pool and peeing into the pool  One is way more subtle.”

Foodie

Matt:  “I had a dream we went to a strip club for lunch and we had the buffet.”

Lisa:  “That sounds….interesting.

Matt:  “Yeah.  I wanted to go there for lunch today but I know the buffet isn’t on your diet.”

TV Critic

Lisa:  “You don’t like Cosmos?”

Matt:  “No.  It’s too much animation.  Just tell me the things.”

Why 80s TV is awesomeI recently got rid of cable because I was sick of bending over every month when I got the bill.  However, I didn’t want to miss rotting my brain on a daily basis so I’ve turned to things like Hulu+ and Netflix to help me get my fix of mindless TV.

Imagine my excitement when I began exploring and discovered many of my favorite 80s television shows were available for viewing.

So I grabbed my jelly bracelets, poured a glass of Tang and got to work re-watching the best television sitcoms ever.

Except they weren’t the best.

Some of them were actually pretty horrible.  What were we thinking in the 80s?  How did we find these premises entertaining?  A show about an abandoned child who took up residence in a vacant apartment only to be subsequently adopted by the building owner?  And her name was Punky Brewster?  Seriously?  Her adoptive father wasn’t reported to Child Services for letting her keep that name? Preposterous!

Then I realized most of the 80s sitcoms were equally as ridiculous, so I made a list of 10 of my favorite shows of the 80s and what was wrong with the premise of each.

It didn’t take long.

Why did we watch this-Saved by the Bell:  This kid-friendly show starred a lead character who was positively horrible.  He regularly screwed over his friends who always forgave him, only to set themselves up to be screwed over again the following week.  And since when is a preppy kid best friends with a nerd and a jock?  Not in my high school!

Mr. Belvedere:  This was one of my favorites although I never realized how creepy the show was.  A housekeeper who wore a jacket and tie everyday?  Strange.  A guy who kept a daily journal about living with kids and then read it aloud to himself every night in his room?  Hello sex offender.

Alf:  The Tanners were able to keep a talking stuffed animal quiet and undetected even though he lived in their DETACHED garage?  How stupid are we?  My neighbors root around in my detached garage and all that’s in there is a raccoon nest and bags of leaves I keep forgetting to get rid of. He would have been discovered in one week…tops.

Murder, She Wrote:  A show about a famous author who solves mysteries.  Here’s one mystery she never solved; why was everyone around her always getting murdered?!  Maybe that should have been the series finale.

My Two Dads:  So basically, your mom was a slut?  That’s the premise of the show that we’ve somehow managed to overlook in this quirky comedy.  And she was such a hoebag that didn’t even have a “type” as the two potential fathers were polar opposites.  Clearly she just gave it away to any guy she met at a bar. Not exactly clean family fun.  Wait, that describes some of my friends in college.

The Cosby Show:  I never understood why Bill Cosby’s character was named Cliff Huxtable yet it was called “The Cosby Show.”  It baffled my young mind and continues to do so.  Why not just call it “The Huxtables” or give the characters the last name of Cosby?  It seems to me Bill Cosby must have had insecurities that people wouldn’t watch the show unless they knew who was in it.

tv-46909_1280Cheers:  A show about a bar that was open in the middle of the day and only a few people ever paid for drinks.  Given the fact they were literally giving it away, that bar should have been a lot more crowded than it was.

Who’s the Boss?:  It’s not so strange to me that a man was hired as a housekeeper.  Not only can I get on board with that, I like it.  What’s a hard hard sell here is that he was a good housekeeper.  Vacuuming the curtains with the actual vacuum and not an attachment?  Really Tony?  I can only imagine how he “cleaned” the bathroom.

Doogie Howser, M.D.:  Right.  Because I’m going to let a guy who hasn’t yet grown pubic hair remove my spleen.  My standard rule of thumb is if your voice sounds like a chipmunk and you still believe in Santa Claus, you’re not getting into my organs.

Diff’rent Strokes:  A show about two boys from Harlem who go live with their dead mom’s millionaire boss?  Is that how it goes in real life?  When you die your estate goes to your boss?  If that’s the case, my boss is going to be pumped when he gets  my collection of VHS tapes.  (And as a sidenote, why is there an apostrophe in the title?  Is it to show us the dad is pretentious?  His never-ending barrage of three-piece suits told us that.)

Even though I realize that most of these shows have ludicrous plots, I also know that I still love them and will watch them whenever they’re available.

After all, one thing’s for certain:  “I want Charles in Charge of Me.”

Week 2 of Tinder TuesdaysIt’s Tuesday, which means it’s time for another edition of Tinder Tuesdays.  This is only my second edition but you guys loved the first edition so hopefully this won’t disappoint either.

This week isn’t someone nearly as patriotic, but last week’s guy set the patriotic bar quite high.  What could be more patriotic than a hairy naked man in the woods holding his package while drenched in the American flag?

No one.  That’s who.

This week’s available bachelor didn’t venture out for a photo shoot on location.  Instead, he took his photo from the comfort of his own bedroom…which is undoubtedly in his mom’s basement.

Since I don’t want to be sued for copyright infringement, I can’t post the actual photo.  However, I can post my artistic rendition of the photo, which is pretty much the same thing.  Here it is.

Hairy chest

Nice, huh?  Let’s break this down one train wreck at a time.

First, let’s start with the giant turkey leg hanging out of his mouth.  I’m not sure why he thought it necessary to take a selfie of him eating a pound of meat, but alas, he did.  Perhaps it’s to show his oral skills, as he’s felating that turkey leg like a boss.

He likes this poultry and the poultry like him back, if you know what I mean.

I can only imagine his thought process when he pondered what photo would best represent him for prospective ladies.  Beef?  Tuna?  Chicken?  For whatever reason, he must have discarded those options in favor of a turkey leg.  Perhaps what’s most disturbing about all of this is that he made the conscious decision to take a photo of him massacring meat.

This makes me wonder what kind of growth or jacked up grill he must have underneath that turkey leg.  My money’s on a raging case of mouth herpes.

Moving down what is most certainly a “fluffy” body, we see that he didn’t deem it appropriate to don a shirt for this photo session.  Either he’s a Magnum P.I. fan and wants to show off his hairy chest circa 1982 or he’s a messy eater who doesn’t want to stain his best Co-ed Naked t-shirt.

Honestly, I can respect that since it’s the baseball one that says “If you’re in scoring position, we’ll drive you home.”  Classic.

I bet he drives ladies home in his tricked out Chevy Aveo with stained cloth seats and a cassette player.

Moving left we see several large glass jars with pieces of fabric covering them and an elastic band keeping the fabric in place.  One thing’s for sure; that guy is resourceful when it comes to storage.

I can’t help but wonder what’s in those glass jars. It appears to be a dark liquid which may be moonshine.  It could also be his bodily waste because his mom doesn’t have a bathroom in the basement and he’s too lazy to put on pants and walk upstairs.

Yeah, I’m assuming he isn’t wearing pants.  This suspicion is supported by the fact his left hand is nowhere to be seen.  I can only assume he’s following in the footsteps of our patriotic friend and is taking his selfies in the nude.

Moving up next to the black and white photographs taped to the wall I have only one thought.  WHAT.  THE.  HELL?

I can’t tell what’s in the photographs but this montage looks like something that would be on the wall of an FBI investigation room, or in the lair of a serial killer.  I’m picturing pieces of red yarn creating a web that doesn’t makes sense to anyone but this turkey-lover. Maybe he has a beautiful mind, but the way he’s downing that meat, he probably doesn’t have a beautiful body.

There’s also what appears to be a red stool nearby.  It’s the kind that’s typically used for playing the drums…or applying makeup in front of a vanity.

We next move on to his closet, where his door is left open.  Hanging there are varying colors of t-shirts.  Yes, t-shirts.  Not polos or collared shirts, but t-shirts.  I suspect in addition to his Co-Ed naked collection there are Big Johnson shirts, Mossimo shirts, BUM Equipment and several Technicolor t-shirts as well.  The Technicolor ones are for when he feels fancy and heads to the comic book store for the newest anime video.

What’s particularly disturbing about his closet isn’t the fact that his shirts are evenly spaced on the rack; it’s the stack of items on the shelf.  It looks like a series of photo albums, which I suspect are filled with naked pictures of himself doing various ninja moves with a plastic sword he got from Dollar General.

This brings us down to the rolling cart that houses his board games.  I don’t see a ouija board but I suspect it’s in there and just out of view.  The board games give me hope he has some interaction with the human race, or maybe he just thinks he does.

That about wraps it up for this week’s Tinder Tuesdays.  Stay tuned for next week’s edition.  I’m not sure what lovely guy will be featured next week but I know he will be awesome because next Tuesday is my birthday and I like to celebrate.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the store and buy a few turkey legs.

Tinder TuesdaysI’ve decided to start a new segment on my blog.  Tinder Tuesdays will highlight a different photo on Tinder each week with an analysis of what’s really going on in the photo.

Trust me.  There are some doozies.

For those of you happily married (or not so happily) and those who don’t know what it is,  Tinder is a free app you can download on your phone.  It shows you profiles of possible people in your geographic area you could meet and date.

It touts itself as a dating app but it’s really just the electronic version of a booty call.

I’m glad they didn’t have this when I was single.

I didn’t know anything about Tinder and neither did my husband…or so he claims.  Fortunately, I have single friends to alert me to new technology like this; and like the Google Maps app that tells you directions out loud.  Who knew that existed?

My friend The Nudist (not her real name), told me about this app recently and I thought it was too good to be true.  Since seeing is believing, she showed me the app on her phone and let me scroll through and play a little.

Pick of the week-Tinder TuesdaysYou set up a profile with a photo of yourself and perhaps a few words about you, although most profiles I saw didn’t have anything other than a photo and their name.

You scroll through photos and with each one you decide if you want to keep them or if you want to dump them.  If you keep them and they keep you, then you can interact with each other through the app.

If you dump them then they will never show up in your feed again.  If only I could have been so lucky with people I dumped when I was single.

One night The Nudist and I were having one of our “patio chats,” which is really an excuse to sit on my patio at night and drink.  She brought up Tinder and asked if I wanted to check it out.

Um, yes please.

I began scrolling through photos of men and the power of knowing I could keep them or trash them was empowering.  Some of the men weren’t bad but some of them were positively horrible.

Because I’m always thinking of my readers, I decided to introduce you to a real person on Tinder each week so you can enjoy the fun of the most ridiculous and superficial app ever invented.

Since it’s July 4th weekend, I thought I’d start things off with a patriotic pic.  However, since I don’t want to get sued for copyright infringement, I can’t post the actual picture.  But don’t worry.  I did something just as good.  I drew an exact replica of it.  I’m a really good artist so you won’t even be able to tell the difference.

drawing of America Tinder guy

At first glance, I see what everyone else sees; a douchebag.  Oh, and the American flag.  He’s enveloped himself in it.  I’m not sure if he is doing this to show he’s enveloped in the freedom America brings, or if he’s doing it to keep his nipples from hardening from the cold temperatures.

Either way, this guy either (1) bought this flag specifically for this photo shoot, (2) borrowed it from a friend or (3) already owns this gigantic flag that is most likely wider than whatever shack he lives in.

If he borrowed it from a friend, I hope the friend knew what he was using it for.  Either way, I wouldn’t want that flag back.

Please also note he’s in some sort of wooded area, which I suspect is where he buries the bodies of his suitors once he’s done with them.  I’m also confident that posing naked in a park violates some sort of local ordinance.  Where’s a park ranger when you need one?

Nudity in a park will also make you a sex offender, but I suspect he’s not worried about that.  Once you’re on the list it stays with you no matter what you do.

As if you hadn’t noticed, he is naked but for his death grip on his manly parts.  He is expertly holding that area, which is probably because his hands spend a lot of time down there.  I’m not sure why he felt the need to be naked in this photo other than to show off his sweet pecs and tit tattoo.  I can’t see what the tattoo is but for some reason I think it’s a dragon eating a unicorn JUST. TO. WATCH. IT. DIE.

Prying my eyes away from his banging body, looking up to his face, I see a mass of a beard.  I can’t tell if it’s well groomed but I’m certain it smells like B.O. and cheap whiskey.  Of course, not all men with bushy beards smell like sweat, but since he’s naked outside, I can only assume he perspires like a sonofabitch and may not make grooming a top priority.

Interestingly, he seems to take care of the bush downstairs, but not so much with the bush on his face.

Looking upward to his hat, I’m completely confused as to why he chose the hat he did.  Personally, there’s nothing more patriotic than a naked man in boots wrapped in a flag with a cowboy hat on.  I guess 3 out of 4 ain’t bad, but it still makes me question his fashion sense.

One of the things I find most enjoyable about this picture is his discarded clothes off to the side on the left.  He went to great pains to make this photo as perfect as possible, yet forgot to move his clothing out of the shot.

It also looks like there’s a black snake looming by his discarded boot.  I’m not sure if that’s a snake that’s out in the wild or if it’s his pet snake he brought from home.  It’s 50/50.

But, there’s one overriding concern about this photo that makes the whole thing terribly creepy.  Someone took that photo.  Someone voluntarily agreed to go into the woods with this man, watch him remove his clothing and envelope himself in the flag.

Since this is such a great photo I can only imagine the photographer also helped him position the flag and made sure his hands fully covered his junk.

I love my friends but naked photos in the woods is where I draw the line.

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Do you have experience with crazy Tinder photos?  A crazy person you met on Tinder.  Tell me!  I will do this segment every week….hopefully my artistic abilities improve.