A Look At The Dirt Of The Silverware, The Dinge Of The Soul, The Darkness Of The Sheet, And The Detergent Of The Sluts In-Between.
As many may already know, it takes a certain type of woman, a certain type of stupid woman, if you will, to truly appreciate me—and as of late, I have been actively seeking that woman. The mornings spent searching for my wallet whilst wearing a bath robe that is nary my own--head throbbing and heart sobbing--have lost their once novel appeal. Since I am much too cheap to cough up the $25 for a female convict's mailing address, so that I can serenade with poems of welfare fraud, child neglect, broomstick rape, and nights on the street, passed over bottles of Thunderbird that never seem to fully empty (much like the spring of my soul), I have decided to take the route of many major metropolitan dwellers with waning social skills and decidedly warped worldviews and begin searching Craigslist for women that can hold up to my rather stringent standards...of domestic dutifulness.
But not without first eliciting the aid of some of the more questionable Mack Avenue residents.
Original post made by one Sal Pacino:
MUST LOVE CATS
Dont have one. Neighbor does. You can go see him afterwards. What I am looking for is someone to get down and dirty with my dirty dishes. Never have you looked so good as when my dishes were so done.
I may or may not get drunk and pee in the sink afterwards...
Totally up to you. And me. Mostly me.
Follow-up posted not two minutes later by Judge Roy Bean.
ALRIGHT, LET’S BE HONEST…
Must love dishes. I'm into cats myself, but I think it was rather misleading to start off with the heading "must love cats", especially when cats don't do dishes.
But you know what does do dishes? You.
I was kidding about the whole peeing in the sink deal. In hindsight I probably could've been a bit more honest. I'm more likely to get drunk and pee in an empty two-liter soda bottle that I keep next to the futon than I am to get up and walk all the way to the kitchen to the sink. Plus, chances are you will still be in the kitchen, drying those dishes ever-so sexily and putting them away in alphabetical order. I wouldn't want to interrupt all that.
If you want to take your shirt off while you do my dishes that would be cool as well.
P.S. Those aren't my dishes--they are just an artistic rendition of what dishes may look like, in case you've forgotten or are just partially retarded.
And the responses start pouring in…
First response:
“Jeez, do your OWN dishes… how old ARE you??? Grow up, dude…. grownups clean their own mess. Are you seriously looking for a woman to do this for you??? Can you say, "MYSOGINIST?"
And grownups also don’t pee in soda bottles because they’re too lazy or drunk to make it to the bathroom. God, how gross and pathetic.
Good luck finding anyone... anyone at all... I'd say your chances are nil....”
Follow-up rebuttal:
Dearest eat-beast,
Thanks to many a formative year spent with ye olde Speak and Spell, I indeed can say “mysoginist” but, due to the latter utility of said child-rearing device, I can also SPELL “misogynist”, something that comes quite handy when illustrating just how stupid of a slut you really are, you stupid slut. Furthermore, I would encourage you to sharpen your skills in regards to logical deduction, as I have two, count’ em “too” or “to”, if you so wish, liter bottles of urine sitting next to my futon that serve as empirical evidence towards you being a stupid slut as well. You stupid slut.
Thankfully my criteria towards getting my dishes done doesn’t include you being a Rhodes scholar, so I guess the only real question here is “Just how fat are you really?” and “Have you taken your shirt off yet?”
Second response:
“you are a disgusting troll”
Follow-up rebuttal:
And you are a filthy animal, my dear. Say, do you know Vinnie Rose? Answer me this: Have you or have you not ever ridden the 47 line bus with mismatched shoes?
That’s what I thought.
Third response:
"What a catch! Just what I always wanted, more dirty dishes! Hope my response doesn't get lost in the avalanche of women tripping over themselves to get to you!"
Follow-up rebuttal:
"I feel a strong connection, a bond if you will, growing between us as I type these very words. I was worried that I may come off as high-maintenance, what with my request that a woman as beautiful as yourself come along and wash my dishes with no promise of late nights spent at Le Colonial or trips to the MAC counter at Nordstrom or bad poetry written in the wake of you eventually sleeping with one of my friends. It is a selfless individual that I seek to share the fruits of my soul with; an individual who is good at dishes and does not go through my wallet in the quiet hours of the night, or at least only steals small bills.
Is this where you show me compromising photos of yourself? I can take a real picture of my dishes if you would like. I believe in no expectations but, furthermore, I believe in honesty. And, honestly, I am two whole feet taller than you in heels, with washboard abs, smart enough to make a lot of money but dumb enough to search the internet for girls to spend it on: A regular Adonis of types. With dishes that need to be done. Just what a lazy beast such as you has been searching the internet for all along."
Approximately three weeks later:
MACK AVENUE SKULLGAME: SHOWING YOU HOW YOUR DAD DID IT SINCE 2003
