Interior decline


The pajamas are fine, I just want to know who the hell decorated that room!



Assume the position


Guy on left: “According to my pocket guide to the Kamasutra, this position is for advanced practitioners only.”

Guy on right: “Ugh, not another contortionist pose?! Mike, sweetie, I know you want to spice things up a bit, but my lower back can only handle so much.”

Guy on left: “Look, I’m only trying out these things because I want to make you happy.”

Guy on right: “After the last time we borrowed a page from that stupid book, the only thing that would make me happy is a heating pad!”

What’s that smell?


Guy on left: “Oh boy! Sure am looking forward to a good night’s sleep!”

Guy on right: “Me too. Oh and Steve, if you give me another Dutch Oven tonight, I’m dumping your ass in the morning.”

Guy on left: “Oh, come on, Roy. I’m just having some fun with ya.”

Guy on right: “Fun is fine, but when it stinks like a garbage barge rotting in the hot sun, I tend to get a little aggravated.”

The best part of waking up… Damn! Wrong brand.


Yes, because when you want quality design and a well-made garment, your first choice is going to be Taster’s Choice – the apparent, supreme commanders of patternmaking.

I suppose the one clever element to this product tie-in debacle is that they made the robe of a coffee colored fabric. Mind you, it’s freeze-dried, instant coffee, but still…

I had a dream I was drowning…

feb2015mI have never understood the rationale behind nightgowns with this much volume.
I sleep in a T-shirt, and when I wake up, that that thing is usually puddled around my chest like the wrinkles on a Shar-Pei’s ass.
I can’t imagine the swirling vortex of Charybdis that women, who wear this many yards of fabric, must greet the morning in.