Welby, just one word…chocolate
Keep a ready supply and you’ll survive.
See? They’re winning already…
(Ironic Sidenote: I’m one of those guys, I’m the one making up the weird stuff in the kitchen)
Hang in there, Welby this too shall pass.
I’m the youngest of 4 girls, with an age spread of only 7 years. That’s right, one bathroom, four teenaged girls! I think my father whizzed in the backyard for most of the 80s.
He survived, albeit with regular subscriptions to hunting, fishing and gun magazines, but he did it. You will too, I promise.
I’m twentymumble and I’ve been baking pies from scratch since I learned to do it in 8th grade home-ec. There’s nothing difficult about it. Who are these non-pie-making females you are surrounded by?
And before anybody says it, when I come back, I will NOT bring pie. It’s my pie.
Welby, if you work this right, you should be able to get hours of free entertainment out of it. Volunteer to go tampon-shopping with them. When you get there, ask them loudly if they want scented regular, unscented super, super plus, junior slims, cardboard, plastic, or no applicator, generic or name-brand. When they are watching MTV, walk into the room, throw your hands into the air and squeal, “OhmiGAWD!!! He is such a hottie!!!” Do this no matter what kind of unbathed unshaven grungy beast is grunting out his angst on the screen.
You get the picture. It’s fun to make teenage girls turn bright red.
I had a little testosterone therapy yesterday. Made a trip over to the Home Despot and bought a bunch of stuff I don’t need but am sure I’ll have a use for one day.
Then I had a beer. Not just one beer. TWO beers. AND I watched Resivoir Dogs. AND I made franks N Beans for dinner.
That’ll teach 'em.
Why do I have a mental image of Welby cowering behind the sofa lobbing out Hershey’s Kisses to keep them at bay?
Franks and Beans for dinner.
The ultimate male rebuttal.
Love this image, twickster! I see him wearing a helmet, too, but interestingly, he’s also in a white t-shirt and boxers.
I’m not so sure if that image is disturbing or erotic… :eek:
You only need to hang in there for a week, so you’ll probably survive relatively unharmed. You just have to keep telling yourself that soon, very soon, the surplus females will leave, the boy will return, and yin and yang will balance once again.
The big problem with women is that they are relentless. They’re so consistently womanish that they slowly wear you down. They may pretend to not be doing it intentionally, but believe me, it’s a carefully orchestrated campaign.
I’ve fallen back to my last trench, and it’s John Wayne movies. I have nowhere to go from here.
I actually had this conversation:
Her: You need to do something about this kitchen.
Me: I know. I gonna’ do it all over in stainless steel. And diamond plate. That would be cool.
Her: No.
Me: Please?
Her: No.
Me: Damn.
It’s my kitchen. I live alone. I have already lost.
Definitely disturbing!
welby, you sound like my poor dad. 4 daughters in the house, and even female cats and dogs lounging about. No wonder he was a Boy Scout leader for 35 years. (And adopted my brother.)
Well, I hope for your sake at least one of your girls turns out like I did. In a bid to get closer to my dad, I started asking him what he was doing a million times a day, digging around out in the work shed. Once he finally started explaining things in plain english, I started to learn stuff.
Until then, I second the notion of lobbing Hershey’s Kisses at them while wearing a pith helmet and your underwear. It may not work, but it will keep me giggling all day. 
Welby, admit it, you secretly like chick flicks.
Hershey’s kisses? Bah, my wimmens don’t bother with low-grade chocolate. They’re Dove and Ferro Rocher fiends. On the plus side, those little Ferro Rocher things can hurt when hurled with enough force. Also failed to barricade myself. I’ve discovered that when the creatures become ravenous I can simply lead them around the house by dropping little pieces of chocolate like hansel and Gretel did. Of ocurse, they eat them, so I’ve gotten lost once or twice, but them’s the breaks.
And come on, twickster, you know that a vision of me in my silk Superman boxers has you all worked up.
Exgineer, it doesn’t matter if you live alone, any woman you’re even remotely dating has the authority to decorate your home.
Damn, really? Can I get rid of that godawful chick art his previous gf left in the bedroom? And the horrendous ruffled curtains in the living room? And can I demand that he place a decent reading lamp by the sofa?
(God, this has me almost as excited as the idea of Welby in his skivvies.)
Welby, how did they take the Franks-N-Beans dinner? Have they started to withdraw yet? tonight I think you should watch Pulp Fiction while burning the fleash of some animal in your underwear, thats right BBQ time, no use holding back open up with both barrels!
And lighting I stand by my Rabid marmoset idea, it would add just the touch of Daredevil Stuntman meets wild kingdom that the show is missing currrently
Have any of you guys seen Monster House on the Discovery Channel yet? It’s like Monster Garage, only they do terrible things to someone’s house*!! :eek:
I saw a preview for that last night while watching American Choppers. I gotta see it.
Ok, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. That’s the second time I’ve hit Submit instead of Preview.
Anyway, they do terrible things to peoples houses (with the homeowner’s consent, of course), such as building fire-breathing Tiki gods in the living room of the tropical house, or putting someone’s bed on hydrolics in the Nascar house.
If you haven’t seen it, check it out. It’s the tackiest thing, and I watch Trading Spaces all the time, so I’ve seen some tacky.
Tell me about it, buddy. Ask me where that curtains in my bedroom came from some time.
On second thought, don’t bother. You already know.
How are we defining “scratch”? if you buy the crust and filling ready-made, it’s not scratch. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.
The women I’m talking about are your average 20-something American women. And men aren’t necessarily immune; who are all those “(Skill, etc.) for Dummies” books written for, anyway?
For some reason, it just bothers me more when women are involved. I knew a girl who told me in our senior year of high school that she had no idea how to operate a washing machine. I thought she was a freak until I went to college and met plenty of other women who didn’t know how to cook, had never cleaned anything, couldn’t drive a stick shift, etc.
**
Selfish bastard!