YSaC, Vol. 926: Bound for the floor.
2011 February 16
Cherry Flooring – New in Box!
No mistaking this flooring with the cheap thin stuff. Top quality!
Easiest to install while nude 🙂
Manufacturers warranty included!
Did you just have a new baby? Congratulations! Now get rid of your disgusting carpet before they catch something!
xxx/xxx-xxxx
Does the manufacturer’s warranty apply to the flooring, or to the ugly naked guy installing it while my baby watches?
Or am I just being naïve, and “installing flooring” is a new euphemism of which I am unaware? I mean, we’ve encountered hi dusting already, so this could be what the cool kids are calling it now. I just don’t know what it is!
Thanks, Emily!
Even though they don’t quote a price, I’ll pay more if Sparky promises to put on clothes.
Another thought (it’s too early for this … it will always be too early for this): Sparky’s newborn’s first impression of dad is as he is installing the new, presumably sanitary flooring … family jewels swaying freely … and in subsequent years no one ever realized why s/he always wanted to be fully dressed and never barefoot while walking on the floor.
*fires up brain bleach jacuzzi*
Why are we assuming Sparky’s a guy? Maybe it’s Sparki and she’s nude for ease of feeding her newborn whilst installing flooring.
*Asks Lola to pass the brain bleach*
*Goes to get his melon baller*
There are certain parts of my brain that I now need to remove.
I have, on occasion, threatened to remove someone’s family jewels with a melon baller. Probably a dull one.
It’s an effective threat. 8 )
Cherry and nude flooring….hmmm…there’s a joke in there somewhere….
Sticky?
I usually handle all my wood in the nude.
“You can’t handle…!!!
oh wait…
Wrong quote, sorry…
“Hi-yo, Sliver! Away!”
I’ve been wondering what R. Bruce Hoadley has been up to these days. Now I know.
I’m pretty sure TacoFather has that book.
I’m slightly surprised it was written by (only) a guy. I know some women who are supposed to be good at the activity referred to in the title.
That’s because he’s got a simple tool.
Well, that quickly took a sharp right hand turn into downtown Weirdopolis.
I’m wondering if the comment about having a baby isn’t a reference to your state of (un)dress while installing that flooring. You’re down on your hands and knees anyway… right?
Watch out for that tree!
*snergle*
[flooring corey]
Well, only if you eschew joint health.
Or you are using “snap” flooring–but Spark’ wants us to believe that this is not the ‘thin cheap” stuff.
Which is actually, 1, better for non-professional installers; and 2, fully-finished and sealed at the factory, and therefor far less likely to have outgassing or release of allergens to ‘affect’ one’s new spawn.
Since I’m in this vein anyway, let me guess that Spark’ means that this flooring is easiest to install as a “new” floor (we may well snark on why the phone auto-corrected that to “nude”).
Let me also speculate that Spark’s insistence on this being “the thick stuff” could also mean that this is raw, furniture-grade lumber. Meaning that it probably needs both the tongue-and-groove and also the flooring under-cut milled into every stick.
This present fad of getting “dirty” carpets out of newborn/children’s rooms for their “health” is just that, a fad. It probably will harm them later in life for not giving a ‘resistance’ against which to build their immunological ‘muscles’ too.
That, and try and get all the sanding dust out of a house that has been recently re-floored (I’ve done this, it’s Sisyphusian halving halves at best). And if fine hardwood dust is not a health concern, then there will still be the issue of toners, sanding sealers and finish wear coats on Spark’s alleged Cherry.
Oh, and at the grey edge of the gray-market lumber products is a great raft of deliberately mis-labeled hardwoods. Cherry is high up on this list, that appellation being applied to a number of illegally-harvested tropical hardwoods. Which, due to their sketchy nature do not get a lot of milling, and hence, are “the thick stuff.”
So, Spark has a bunch of lumber that “fell off the truck” and wants us to suborn not only his avarice, the underlying destruction of eco-systems, and to increase VOC pollutions, all in the name of some dubious health improvement of putative urchins? Well, probably better to introduce pulchritude and venal prurience into the ad, then.
[/rant+corey]
I hate when my wood has an outgassing.
Maybe you should wax it more often.
Also, Putative Urchins is the name of IF’s Fine Young Cannibals tribute band.
(Slightly OT) This obsession with eliminating *all* germs that many people currently have is doing far more harm than good. It leads to a lowering of immunological resistance which with the increasing resistance of bacteria to antibiotics due to the overprescribing of them and people not taking them properly and completely, leads to drug resistant infections like MRSA. (/OT)
Shhhh! Let the Sparkies believe that the nice spray will keep them safe by killing all the nasty frowny germies they see on the ads. That way, they lower their immune systems and those of their putative urchins – (c) Cap’n Mac – and when the next animal-themed sniffle comes along we’ll watch their stupidity lead to their oh so timely demise. Sure, Craigslist will see a decline in nonsensical postings, reality TV will suffer a severe ratings drop and Fox news will go off the air, but I’m sure there’ll be bad consequences, as well.
/agree Kelli and Jen! and I’ll stop right right there before I go off on a rant.
So what you’re saying is that Sparky has a tree out back which he thinks is a cherry tree. BYOS
Pshaw! My 49 cent per square foot cheap-o IKEA flooring was just as easy to install in the nude as the more expensive stuff.
What?
Which brand of adhesive did you use, christina?
No adhesive required. It was as easy as inserting tab A into slot B. 😉
Sorry, I apparently just hit puberty today.
Yes, but you didn’t go for the sticky white stuff, so it’s not so bad. 8)
Either the ad is loaded with euphemisms or I just don’t understand the humor.
However, not one to pass on the opportunity to throw out some sex puns:
I wonder if the floor is installed with a ball-peen hammer.
Does one screw the wood into the subfloor with nuts?
What do you do if any pieces are cracked? Put a buttload of caulk in them?
Will the instructions on how to lay the flooring come with the box? Will they keep one abreast of the process?
I feel so dirty now.
Well… it is a cherry wood floor, so I’d bet it came from virgin forest.
I’ll be in the corner.
For some reason, I’m thinking they are talking about condoms. See below:
“Cherry flavored condoms – New in Box!
No mistaking these with the cheap ones. Top quality!
Easiest to put on while nude [smiley face]
Still have the receipt in case something goes wrong.”
And I have no clue about the last part. Taco or Hammy can probably figure that one out.
Maybe he’s inferring that once you’ve given birth, you should just go “bare-floor” to help with… healing? I know that with a c-section, the nurse shaves a good deal of “carpeting” in the vicinity of the incision area.
Um.
I think I might have been able to live without this information, EB. Although I do thank you so much for sharing. Bless your heart.
*dunks head in brain bleach*
I was trying to figure out how to work a tongue-and-groove joke in there somewhere.
I didn’t think nudity was recommended for most home improvement projects, what with the potential for some really unique scars and the whole splinter situation.
You think using a radial arm saw in the nude is a bad idea?
I guess I should rethink that table I was gonna build.
As I recall from shop class, they only tell you to wear eye protection and keep loose clothing away from the spinny bits. As long as you goggle up and don’t mind tweezering shards of wood out of places they shouldn’t be, you’re good to go.
Considering that this lumber probably needs a pass through a moulding machine, nudity in the vicinity ought be tempered by the possibility of an entire stick of lumber being launched, waist-high, if the machine has a kick-back.
I know of several millwork shops that keep a set of catcher’s pads for working behind moulders and gang saws, and leather aprons, too. Kickback is not pretty. You feed the lumber in at inches per minute and it will came back to you at feet-per-second. Often to wind up sticking through the wall of the shop.
Gang saws? Do they hang out behind donut shops smoking cigarettes, running their fingers over their teeth and remarking how they don’t like the cut of your kerf?
Oh no, nothing so bashful or clandestine.
Usually just hulk there right in the open next to the chopsaws and the hogger.
And, all too often, in the center of an array of distressing floor stains.
Heh heh heh. Hey baby, Bacontini, he install your floor for you. Bacontini never wear de clothes, so you enjoy de Bacontini while he enjoy your floor.
Yes, as always Bacontini is here for de
floorladies.…
Sometimes, when de bar stools are already in de bed, Bacontini like to spread topper out on de ground and pretend she’s de floor. Don’t tell her dat Bacontini told you.
I’m thinking the phrase “new in box” may not be the one to use when talking about nude wood flooring installs.
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
New in Box!New in Box!New in Box!
*ZZzzzzzZZzzzzzzZZzzzzzzzzzzzz*
I guess the new wore off.
in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box! in Box!
Well, I suppose in a way he’s right – babies ARE “easiest to install while nude”. On the other hand, are there that many women give birth all over their own carpets?
*snergle*
I met her in a club
Down in old Soho.
She was stark naked
And was laying down cherry flooring.
She walked up to me,
And she asked me to help.
She said, “It’s all for
The baby’s sake, so I’m imploring.”
You called?
Wait, I thought that the only thing men in Soho called in the morning was a cab?
Not if you’re Ray Davies.
It’s cherry flooring new in box,
Doo-da, Doo-da
Install it wearing only socks
Oh, de doo-da day
Goin’ nude all night
Goin’ nude all day
I spent my money cuz Bob Vila said to.
Somebody put it on youtube
You mericans are such prudes. We Danes have been doing nude woodwork for centuries. Akvavit makes the work go smoothly……….
I’ve said it before: There is nothing like a Dane! Nothing in the world!
And we’re thankful of that.
Great
Danes are great.
*wags*
But, does one have to wear coconuts as a brassier? Or a swab-mop for a wig?
Or am I being too South Specific?
Uff-Da!
So you’re offering to install a Cherry Danish on my floor? I’m so confused.
Actually, it sounded more like a Dane in your cherry, to me.
*gets coat, goes to corner*
Nah, Danes are too moody. I’ve seen “Hamlet.” Got anything in Norwegian?
Hmmm. Site is loading s l o w l y, and nesting is not happening properly. This is supposed to go up under Camille’s comment. It would make sense up there.
Isn’t it good Norwegian wood?
Down here it loses much in the translation. 8/
There once was a nude guy named Fred,
Whose new flooring was bright cherry red.
He thought that just maybe
It might make a baby
But he got only splinters instead.
OMG…there aren’t enough doors in the world…
*snort*chortle*
Nothing beats a good limerick.
Unless the limerick has a dangly bit, it would be hard
onto beat itoff.Brilliant!
Yeah, what she said!
That’s what she said.
Greatest limerick of all time! I just woke up my daughter!
I could really use some cheery flooring, my current floor is emo. The nice thing was it cut itself to fit, the not so nice thing is that it has deep depressions. So some cheery flooring would be a real improv….oh wait it’s cherry flooring…never mind.
Wood in a deep depression would be a real problem…either way you look at it.
I don’t looking at it would help it rise up, perhaps a tongue lashing?
*I’ll be in my corner
Floor wax helps restore dry dull wood. Just saying…
whole new, ‘nuther, meaning to “swamp logging” . . .
For the umpteenth time that week, Bess reminded herself that she really needed to get that doorbell fixed. Every time it went off, it sounded like someone chewing noisily on a little electronic organ. She hastily opened the door so as not to give the visitor pause to ring it again.
“Pop your cherry, ma’am?” said the bedraggled, sweaty, and decidedly pear-shaped mound of fiery ginger scruff on the other side.
The sight of both the unpleasant man-shaped Chia beard and its question threw her figuratively off-balance. “I … beg your pardon?”
“Sorry,” said the man in a deep and gravelly voice through a tangled opening in his face that made him look like nothing so much as a talking mound of dried peat. “Bit of a bad joke, there. My name is Hurk. I’m here to do your flooring, and you requested brand new cherry wood, am I right?”
Slightly flustered, Bess nonetheless regained her mental footing. “Yes, um … yes, right. Please, come in.”
Hurk’s beard smiled as the rest of him walked in the door, carrying with him several bags and a backpack. Despite appearances, he seemed genial enough; the smile was warm and touched his eyes, though the apples of his cheeks looked more like lychees. “Over here?” Hurk asked, pointing at the living room area, which had been cleared of everything preparatory to the renovation.
“Yes, that’s the area.” Bess replied. “I’ve removed everything and had a friend help me pull up the old flooring, all you should need to do is lay the new stuff.”
Hurk chuckled unexpectedly, though Bess couldn’t find the joke. “Well, that makes things easier,” Hurk said. “I’ll just get started then.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Bess said. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Some water?”
“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”
Bess retired to the kitchen and fetched a pair of teacups and saucers. As the sounds of Hurk bringing in supplies from his truck and preparing to lay down her new floor emanated from the living room, she boiled the water and placed a teabag in each of the cups. When the pot squealed she poured the boiling water into each of the cups to let the tea steep for a few minutes.
“Milk or sugar?” Bess called.
“Just milk, please!” Hurk called from the living room.
Bess poured a measure of milk into both cups, and added a cube of sugar to her own. After a little stir, she removed the bag and brought Hurk’s cup into the living room.
It would have been impossible for Bess to have justly described what she experienced in the next few moments. At first, it was like walking into someplace you’ve been to many times before and were intimately familiar with, and being unexpectedly confronted with something whose every characteristic was so utterly incomprehensible that it made you question if you didn’t take a drastically wrong turn somewhere. That prompted an individual analysis of things in the area to confirm that everything which wasn’t supposed to be tremendously out of place was what and where it was expected to be. Once she confirmed that this was indeed the living room she had aimed for, her brain started to work on the thing in said room which was tremendously out of place. This involved attempting to identify its shape and texture, reorient it spatially in case it wasn’t the right way up, consider the possibility that its unfamiliarity might be the result of it being intended to fit inside something more familiar, and then trying to think of what it might fit in — and in a brilliant epiphanic flash, she realized what that was: Pants.
And that’s when she dropped the tea.
Bent over as he was, his wooly backside to her, the clattering of the shattered china got his attention, so he stood up and turned to face her. Too shocked to take emotional stock of the situation, she instead noted that, for the most part, he looked more or less like an ordinary, albeit overweight, naked, and disproportionately hirsute man. For the most part, she thought, because one particular feature stood out — literally and figuratively — from the rest of him, even moreso than his neanderthalic coat of fur: He had wood.
Euphemisically, this would have been creepy in the extreme, but not physiologically unusual. No, while his solder was standing at attention, it was, in fact, crafted of actual wood. As much as she desperately wanted to look away, like rubbernecking past a vicious accident on the road, she couldn’t help but note that it appeared to be cherry wood. That in turn gave his opening joke several layers horrifying layers of creepiness.
“Oh, didn’t see you there,” Hurk said nonchalantly. “Let me help you clean that up,” he offered.
“No!” Bess exclaimed, her eyelids slamming into her skull as she raised her hands in warding. “I don’t … I … what … the hell …” Bess stammered, flummoxed and momentarily incapable of drawing just the right words from the tangle of colourful adjectives and epithets that were fighting over themselves to be the first out of her mouth.
Hurk seemed to sense that something was off. He looked down at himself and seemed to realize suddenly what it might be. “Oh!” he said, as if suddenly remembering something he had to pick up at the grocery store. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have reminded you. I work naked.”
Bess still couldn’t articulate what she really wanted to say, so she asked the immediate question, “Reminded?”
“Yeah,” Hurk replied. “You did call the Naked Flooring Company after all, and, well … that’s me. Naked.”
“But…” Bess began to realize something, a feeling of new horror creeping over her. “I thought … naked meant … um … you know, like … a figure of speech. Like, naked, no carpet. Just wood.”
Hurk chuckled again — a chuckle that now sounded to her as if it dripped with psychosis. “Oh, heaven’s, no! No, naked means naked! Nude, birthday suit, in the buff. It’s what I do. I just love wood — I mean, really love wood. See?” Hurk pointed at his crotch. “Cherry in particular. I love the feel, the look, the smell so much I even made it a part of me. Crafted with exquisite detail by my own hand, so you can see the kind of fine workmanship I do.”
Bess couldn’t decide whether she wanted to vomit or run screaming into the woods. Instead, she ran back into the kitchen, grabbed a cleaver from the knife block, and returned to the living room.
“Out,” Bess threatened, brandishing the cleaver. “Get. Out.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Hurk pleaded, his hands up in a defensive position. “No need to get hostile here, lady, you called me, remember?”
“Out!” Bess yelled and lunged at him with the knife.”
“Whoa!” Hurk exclaimed and ran from the weapon, making a circuit around a table, through the kitchen, around the displaced living room furniture, and then finally slamming into the screen door, desperately unlatching it to make his way outside.
Bess slammed the door shut after him, then leaned her back against it to gather her wits. It was like some acid-fueled, X-rated episode of the Twilight Zone. She simply could not wrap her head around how it was possible for such a sheer volume of insanity could be packed so tightly into the space Hurk occupied, even despite his girth. She knew there were plenty of crazy people out there, but she never thought she’d fall victim to one, let alone one of such magnitude.
Bess sighed heavily and closed her eyes in recovery, only to be interrupted by the half-dead doorbell again — the sound now seeming as twisted and bizarre as the events that had just unfolded. A swell of fear shot through her anew as she removed herself from the door, turned and, brandishing the cleaver behind her head, slowly opened the door again. It was him. He held up a hand to forestall what he knew she was going to yell at him.
“Um,” he began. “It seems that in the scuffle, my penis came off.”
“Get out!” Bess shrieked.
Hurk ran.
Shades of Stephen King’s short story The Lawnmower Man (but it’s an obvious direction to go) and VERY well done, as always! You really should submit to a publisher!
A truckload of “new in box” Brazilian cherry doors to you, eerily smiling puppy.
And just so soon after Valentine’s Day…. I’ll take my doors in a dark chocolate Brazilian (waxed?) cherry!
I was thinking what Angel posted. You often draw some eerily King-esque pictures with your words, freaky puppy.
You certain your initials aren’t SK?
+@Angel
I won’t deny that there’s probably some King influence floating around in my brain, to be certain, though to be honest I wasn’t a huge King fan until I read The Stand. (I have a thing for thick books.) I liked the movies but never really got into his books ’til that. If anything I tend to read more Douglas Adams, David & Leigh Eddings, a couple of Roberts (Jordan, Asprin), a bunch of Terrys (Goodkind, Brooks, Pratchett), L.E. Modesitt Jr. (though he kind of annoys me with his occasional perspective and tense changes) — in other words, lots of sci-fi and fantasy. I blame Piers Anthony, whose books were what got me into reading many yonks ago. (Yes, Xanth. I read a lot of his other, hardier stuff later on, though.) Couldn’t really say if I tend to take after any one particular style, though if I had to single anyone out, I absolutely love Robert Jordan’s highly descriptive writing. It’s what makes his books so long — which appeals to my big-ass book fetish.
Hear hear, smiley puppy!! On all counts!
@smiley puppy
There are so many of my own favorites in that author list that it’s no wonder that I’m fan of your work as well!
There’s a wonderful used bookstore here that runs a sale once a month wherein every book is $1.00, and so I’ve picked up every book in Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time series but I’ve yet to read them. Perhaps the time has come!
I met Piers Anthony once, at a book signing at the Crystal River Mall back when I lived there – I think he still lives outside Inverness (FL.) I treasure my signed copy of Tatham Mound not only because it was written by him but because he wrote such a compelling story of aboriginal Floridians and their contact with Spanish explorers. That’s a subject near and dear to my heart.
The Wheel of Time books are among my all-time favourites. They’re substantial tomes, quite deep, a little dark, and pretty much the epitome of epic fantasy. They’re a little cliche, of course — the usual good vs. evil story and such — but the dialog and wit is great, the characterizations are top notch, the world feels big and vibrant, and Jordan’s descriptive style really brought it to life for me. One of my favourite sayings comes from this series: “He strains to hear a whisper who refuses to hear a shout.” Truer words…
I loved reading Anthony too, though. Many of his books were great (and I loved his re-release of But What of Earth? with all of the annotated copy-editor butchery that happened to it when it was first published), but the thing that tended to endear me to him on a more personal level were his end-of-book author’s notes, which were like pre-Internet personal blog entries. It humanized him, and by extension authors in general to me, allowing me a little glimpse into the man that wrote the books I’m reading, and in their own way made me realize that I, too, could write things, because I’m just a guy like him. He just happens to have a publisher. And more time than me. 🙂 I never got to meet him though — and I’d really loved to have done, so I’m envious.
SmileyPuppy, I am always amazed at how you
come upthink of just the right name for your characters. Hurk is *exactly* what I thought you when you described him as overly hirsuite and naked.That’s pretty much why I named him that. 🙂 Although every time I typed it, I couldn’t help hearing that high-pitched little centaur voice from Rocket Robin Hood.
DisturbingExcellent story as usual, MF.However, one typo caught my eye:
Can one solder wood? Gives it a whole new meaning.
Doh! I missed that one, thanks. I’d spotted an erroneous apostrophe in “heavens” and a superfluous “layers” earlier — after it was too late to edit, naturally. This is why I’d suck as a copy-editor.
But, y’know … maybe he soldered his wood on. *wince*
(I don’t know why I’m wincing at that when the entire concept is cringeworthy.)
I’ve fixed it for the stored copy, at least, for its eventual posting on the blog, whenever I get around to putting it up. (Which I should do soon. Too many projects…)
You should put an ad on Craigslist for someone to set up the blog for you!
Hey, looky! Alice and I are new in box.
We’re not going to open the box and find your wood staring back at us, are we?
Not as long as you open the top first.
Yeah, EB – take
yourthe top off!Wow, such witty comments today… I’m floored!
I know right, nothing like some good hard wood to start the morning off.
Oh, my. It looks like a new entity in the world of pawning crap aimed at a very specific segment of the population has been born.
I guess that means it’s time for this place to spin off a sister site (er, excuse me, thithter thite): You Thuck at Craigthlithp.
*clicks link*
Theriouthly?
I know right?!
…
I don’t get it.
Do you get this?
All I want for Chrithmath is ma two front teeth….
It has to be a joke. The ads are identical to the real CraigsList (I checked) but every s has been changed into a th.
I checked too. It’th pretty awethome :-p
Yeah, all they do is load craigslist and replace all the ‘s”s with ‘th’ via a PHP script.
It probably works the same way Google’s various mock translators do (I just linked one — the best one, of course — so this doesn’t get modded). It just “translates” the real CL pages into lisp. (The speech impediment, not the programming language, which might only be funny to geeks.)
Kind of funny though.
Bad puppy! We close our arguments properly here! *Rubs Mindfield’s face in a book of HTML code*
Also, the horror!
EDIT: Thanks for editing your comment, now I just look like a jerk.
I was wondering who had the free time to do that, but if it’s as simple as just rewriting the code like that, then they don’t need much. Still … odd. I’m guessing: private joke.
That’s what I was thinking, except it was something like “They did some computer thingy to automatically change the letters” since I don’t possess the tech savvy to put it the other way.
Ok, the right-hand sidebar got my attention (was an intrusion incident down to south Texas not long ago). So, it was curious that the site really links back to the Bay Area CL.
I’m sore afraid to inquire if there is a link to lisp and SF in any way shape or form.
(And I have to remain steadfast in my belief that this is a nerdprank upon the people of Autodesk in Sausolito, who do so much yeoman work in the LISP programming language.)
I am so not going to like writing this incident report up.
OT – sorta – I think my snark is broken. No, really, ever since the flu/bronchitis episode I just don’t seem to be able to get back into the (tongue and) groove. It’s as if some naked Brazilian has stolen my cherry and no amount of flooring is getting me wood. Sigh….
You have a naked Brazilian? Did you “borrow” him from Bridgete?
I want a cherry-stealing naked Brazilian* too, like all the cool YSAC people! 8)
*Actually have a specific Brazilian in mind, too, but we have too much in common, in that we both like guys.
Nothing a little role-playing or some major surgery couldn’t fix.
LOL@ lola
Loving the new jiffy-pop avatar hairdo too by the way. Or is that… new wave? Or am I just imagining that it’s new?
It’s new. It’s a hat; the red bit is the actual hair. 🙂
It’s my cherry floor
Install in the nude such a squick surprise
It’s not too thin it’s top quality
Sweet cherry floor, yeah
Woaw
Well, swingin’ to and fro, swingin’ back N forth
Swingin’ where they want I hope there ain’t nobody home
Swingin’ to the left and swingin’ to the right
I think I hit my balls with a 2×4, yeeeow!
Ouch, ouch!
*Twitches*
Must… ignore… lack of punctuation!
Welcome back!
I can’t help reading it as “cheery flooring,” since it’s such a cheery ad!
Also, what?
That’s how my mind interpretted it at first. Then I got to the naked bit and thought, no wonder it’s cheery.
The smiley face makes it hard not to read it as “cheery.”
[matt]Gosh, can’t you people see that “flooring” is a misspelling of “flu-ring”? This is not an ad, nay, ’tis a Public Service Announcement! Don’t you people care about your health?
Also, it’s best installed in the nude because of *ahem* where it needs to be installed.[/matt]
I don’t want a flu-ring installed, naked or otherwise.
I concur! You can take your flu-ring, and shove it up… *whispered asides* Oh, he did? Why on earth would… *further whispers* Oh. Oh, I… see. I’ll just be… going. Now.
I think I remember this guy, didn’t he used to repair fences?
Hey, any way he can get his hands on others people’s wood, while naked, is good enough for him.
Unfortunately it’s also good enough to violate his ASBO…
Outside: Raining. All day raining.
Inside: Waiting for tea, kettle about to boil.
Home Early Because: My job stressed me out too much. My boss interrupted my lunch to call me in to a meeting to point out how we did not follow her instructions that she didn’t think she had to give to us again in this same but different situation. Then she hopped into her Mustang, Sea Biscuit, and drove like mad down to San Diego for a meeting. About 2 hours later, I was feeling poorly. Now, I feel much better. 8)
Sorry to hear about the stress, I hope the helps!
Outside: not so cold
Inside: I have a cold
Time for knockout cold meds and bed.
*I hope the tea helps.
Bosses. Can’t live with ’em, they don’t fit in the microwave.
Mild here in Toronto, just above freezing, supposed to get into spring-like temps over the next few days. Should melt most of the surface snow we’ve accumulated. Moar! I’m done with winter.
It’s pushing 80 F here – I’ll trade you.
Uh. Wonky site. Ew. Okay, Alice and Mindee, here’s your tandem Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Floorida!
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