- I'm the 2 dozen oranges she sliced in quarters for Snack Mom duty.
- I'm the minivan.
- I am the after school tutoring program that she volunteers for four hours a week.
I am the soup kitchen she cooks for every week. One dish to feed 20 hungry men.
I am the food pantry that she donates food to every week.
- I'm that cup of Greek yoghurt that all her iVillage friends are talking about.
- I'm the glory hole at the AVS in the strip mall in the bad part of town through which the hubby takes multiple loads in his mouth when he's supposed to be working overtime at the widget factory.
I'm Aiden, Brayden, Cadyn and Hayden on their way to baton practice in Mom's Chrysler Pacifica mini van. The van has a license plate frame that has "Mom's Taxi" on it. Isn't that just TOO CUTE? And SOOO TRUE!
- you are idiots.
Let's be sad pathetic Dler's for a week
I'm the guy in my mom's basement looking at internet porn
I'm the bitchy queen making snarky comments on a sad little site.
- I am the mocha steel metallic Chevy Suburban that schleps daughter Caitlynn and her friends to and from soccer practice every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon.
- I'm the many leftover muffins and donuts after the executives' meeting in the conference room - the executives don't eat them because they're fattening - that the fraus are circling like buzzards.
I'm Brad, Michelles' husband. While she's taking Aiden, Brayden, Cayden and Hayden to baton practice, I'm cruising the men's room at Home Depot, looking for some hot cock to suck.
- I'm the daily inspirational quote calendar on the kitchen counter with all of the appointments on it!
- I'm the popcorn being microwaved in the break room, and the stench will linger for two hours.
Do that shit at home!
- I am the worn-out hairbrushes, still being used to produce the teased-out hairstyle she looked so great in in 1985.
- I'm the gun rack in Buddy's Silverado.
- I'm the pile of shoes near the front door. While she claims to LOVE shoes, we're all from Nine West and we all rub the back of her ankles which is why she wears ballet flats once she gets to her desk at work.
- I'm the dildo secretly lusted after
- I'm the Wellie rubber boots worn with cute minis or shorts. Fun colors like green or pink show that I defy the crummy humid, buggy Midwest summers as well as the leaf crunching fleece wearing autum weather.
- I'm the DVD player in the minivan that has played The Little Mermaid 1,237 times. When it hits 1,240, Mom will single-handedly rip the screen from the back of the headrest and claim the neighbor kid did it.
- I'm the elastic waist jeans she wears with a scooped-necked flowy top she got at Lane Bryant.
- I'm the lime jello mold containing suspended bananas.
- I'm the scrunchy she uses to pull up a pony with her dyed blond hair with dark roots.
- I'm the vicious gossip that flows from her mouth when she blasts other fraus to her besty.
- I'm the after school lesbian cunnilingus
- I'm the spinning class that got missed b/c she had too much chardonnay with her best friends Michelle and Denise last night. She'll unfortunately use the pent up energy to pit Denise against Michelle in a series of afternoon texts and phone calls. "Little Brantley didn't mean to hurt, your feelings and what was the deal when Denise said, but what if she doesn't grow out of it?"
- I'm the cryptic FB post. "Struggles really let you know who won't let you down, if you think this is about you, good." #amazed that I can still be disappointed
- I'm the long fake fingernails painted red she uses to click out text messages to everyone she knows all day long.
- I'm the gossiping with co-workers as she goes desk-to-desk all day long, avoiding any actual work.
- I am the lies she tells herself when she's calling Halleigh's doctor to get an early refill on the ADHD meds
- This is Datalounge at its absolute worst.
None of this is funny, it's just stupid. And it makes it even more clear that everyone in this thread is so out of touch with the real world I'm embarrassed for them.
- I'm the acquaintance who knows her wide toothy smile is fake (not to mention creepy), and that when she's home she's a monster and screams at her daughter for not winning tennis matches. [Based on a *true story,* modern and up to date.]
- Also, I should add to any women who have made it this far in this tread. NOT ALL GAY MEN are as idiotic as the ones contributing here.
- I'm the mom who is living the life she always wanted, forever grateful that she isn't stuck in a place like New York, where everything is too expensive, and most of the people are on anti-depressants.
- This thread is a riot and totally spot on, esp. r27 LOL. There are so many women in my workplace like this.
- I'm the sex toys parties
- I'm the waiter at Olive Garden, smiling grimly when Michelle says "Ok, I GUESS we'll have one more basket of breadsticks, IF YOU INSIST! HA ! HA! "
- I'm the granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and jack/jill sinks in the master bathroom that she just had to have.
- [quote]I'm the granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and jack/jill sinks in the master bathroom that she just had to have.
FAIL! Most rich gay men insist on that shit too.
- r38, isn't there some scrapbooking you should be doing? And that hamburger helper isn't going to cook itself. Now be off. Go on...
- I'm her husband. The only personality I show is to punctuate my demands with well timed farts. But thanks to my freakish genetics, I still have a pretty good body at 40. I like that those gross gays still lust after me but I like having clean laundry and a kid to yell at a lot more. I hope we're having that dish she makes with the mushroom soup and the porkchops tonight.
- I'm the men's room in that rest area along the highway where all the r40s suck anonymous cock.
- OP, is this making you feel better about your very exciting non-fly over life?
- I'm the DL thread that reeks of bitter envy.
- I'm the appliqued, bedazzled sweat shirt she wears with her high-waisted mom jeans. I have little white canvas shoes done up to match.
You know it's true. Straight chick here who saw these moms all over my son's school.
- I'm the ignorant cunts posting their fury at this thread. They should get the hell back to iVillage and off of DL.
- I'm the frau-to-be, sitting in rush hour traffic, late for my appointment at the fertility clinic.
And unaware of the irony.
- There is another DL thread about New York changing ( My New York is gone). Old New York would have been unconcerned with mocking other places; it was secure in its uniqueness. However, now it is much like any other city ( the curse of franchising) and posters here on a pretty regular basis, mock other cities. It is just a sign that New Yorkers are basically the same as everyone else, except they pay more for everything. It used to be that New Yorkers didn't have to proclaim their " superiority." Now, it's weekly on DL.And, back in the old days, there were just as many transplants, so don't rationalize all of the insecurity on them.
- I'm her Blogger account. No one ever reads her mommy blog, NO ONE. But, she types away every other day with photos and stories about cupcakes, ADHD, standardized testing, peanuts and angels.
- I'm the one who thinks about how accepting and understanding she was of her gay son - and now reads DL and wonders why she bothered.
- I'm the lonely can of Diet 7-Up, sitting on the desk in the cubicle, waiting hopelessly to be consumed.
- I'm the mancave her husband seeks refuge in. He's supposed to watch sports and drink beer while sitting in the lazy boy, but all he does every night is weep.
- I'm a single, childfree by choice, straight chick/hag, marvelling at the wit here! I am NOT being sarcastic - more please!!
- I'm the butt-ugly, block-like sensible shoes I wear because, God knows, I wouldn't want my tender, swollen feet to feel the texture of the Earth. Ever.
- I'm the officious, entitled Mom who flounces around, all self-important, wherever I go.
- I am the can of cream of mushroom soup that will go into a casserole for dinner.
I am the inspirational quotes on the wall that were purchased in a faux-country style décor store.
I am the cheddar cheese that will be snacked on. Brie? What's that?
I am the margarita that will be sipped later at the bar.
I am the catalog from which Flyover Frau will shop. I am also the shopping mall she will spend far too much time in shopping, yet acquiring nothing of value.
I am the man cave hunky husband retreats to for some solace and space of his own. He secretly lusts after other men. When he goes to the gym, he often takes care of those lusts...if you only knew, Miss Flyover, if you only knew.
- Candles and potpourri! How could we forget those? They go into the glass bowl from Pottery Barn, or someplace like that, along with dried pods and cones.
I am the ride-on lawnmower husband rides every week to cut the grass. He's rather be riding a guys ass.
- I'm the earrings
- I'm the caftans
- Caftan? What's a caftan? Does it go with the...what's it called? Brie?
- It's Free!
- I'm the 6th concussion her son has suffered since she and the husband made him play Peewee Football. I'm the one that will cause him to punch his girlfriend in college when his parents give him grief about only being second string. Luckily the husband photographed me happening and tagged everyone in the photo that he tastefully labeled "Helmet on Helmet HEADSHOT!!!"
- I am the time taken out of a very busy day to write R7.
- I'm the facebook page with half-hourly updates for her 500+ friends (and counting) about her son's concussion. She will check her page every couple of minutes for new "likes" and new comments, and will read and re-read all of these because she believes they convey her mommy martyrdom, thereby justifying her existence.
- "However, now it is much like any other city ( the curse of franchising) and posters here on a pretty regular basis, mock other cities."
No, New York really isn't the same as other cities.
- We are the magnets on the refrigerator. We're shaped like ladybugs except one of us is the letter K. We're holding Jaden's soccer schedule, Megan's finger painting, photographs of the children of every friend and relative she has (including some people she has not spoken to in years), a shopping list, some coupons (she's always forgetting them), a list of emergency phone numbers, a couple of takeout menus, and a calendar that has pictures of cats.
We hate the post-it notes.
- I am the snide comment a disgruntled co-worker (who is doing all the work) makes about her: "If checking Facebook every two minutes, gossiping with the other hens and taking calls from her idiot husband and children were actual job skills, that dumb cunt would be president of the company."
- " I still have a pretty good body at 40. "
I am the rest of the world, who smiles but inwardly rolls their eyes at R40, who still thinks he is good looking when in reality he is a fat fuck with a bulging belly and lard ass.
I am also the ghost of the future, who knows once he passes 40 his body will continue its inexorable move toward completely falling apart.
- I'm the bible infested with yellow highlighter ink.
- I'm this haircut:
- I am the frosted hair.
- I'm the humorless Nan who thinks she's being "supportive" by tsk tsk-ing her DL "Gays," but who hasn't gotten a joke here since 2001, nor had an orgasm via sex with her husband since 1993.
- OMG R69! What is that haircut? The back looks like a porcupine.
- I'm the fresh coating of cum in her husband's mouth when he kisses her hello upon returning home after having "run an errand."
- I'm the framed print in the den.
- I am the death of New York.
- [quote]OMG [R69]! What is that haircut? The back looks like a porcupine.
That haircut is all the rage in the midwest, albeit with more "chunky" bleach stripes. They all think they're so edgy and unique!
- I am the Pot Luck Sign Up Sheet and I will occupy every moment of Ginny's work day, leaving the real work to be covered by other, more frazzled co-workers.
- It looks like one of those haircuts fat matrons get to try and look younger and hipper.
- I'm the abortion clinic where Frau Marie and her Catholic Ladies Guild meet once a month to drink coffee, gossip about the new priest and hold lurid signs depicting dead fetuses. In two months Marie will drive her own daughter, Steffany to get an abortion a few towns over. Despite spending the last 36 months of her life screaming "It's a blessing, it's a baby not a mistake!!!" to other teen girls and their mothers walking through my doors.
- I am the dog-eared copy of 50 Shades of Grey in the nightstand drawer, next to the dual-speed "therapeutic massager."
- I'm the cracked skanked out suburban sidewalk on which to PrancerCize!
- I'm the socially isolated, self hating, vitriol dripping, envious amoeba who wishes SO hard that her husband wants him, when the sad reality is that the overwhelming majority of married men are straight and would run you over with their minivan rather than look in your direction.
- I'm the old gas station on the corner of Maple and Elm. I'm going to be painted Hot Mama Pink with Lime Twist trim and become "Patty's Cakes!" a cupcakery. Patty's husband, Jim is putting up all of the money because Patty noticed that Jim has been smelling like his coworker Dianne's perfume, Thierry Mugler's Angel. He's hoping that it will give Patty something to do besides hire a private detective. Too late! Patty's Cakes! becomes a huge success with 12 locations in the tri-state area and Dianne and Jim marry, after 3 years Dianne leaves him for a district manager from Buffalo.
- So, this is the Gay version of slash fiction?
- I'm the two-hour phone conversation between the frau and the frau's bff of which the main topic of conversation is Kim Kardashian.
- I'm that moment in the car, waiting at a red light, that ephemeral second of time, where she silently wonders if there was something more out there for her, something bigger, something that didn't include Lifetime television, and juice boxes and her Friday night by appointment sex date with her doughy husband... But then a Maroon 5 song comes on the radio, and I, the moment, pass, as she hums along and gets her ass to the store to by Chardonnay.
- I'm the pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey waiting to be devoured during her next appointment with the tv for "Dancing With The Stars" or "Grey's Anatomy."
- I'm the guy who gets cruised hard by her husband in the TJ Maxx men's dept. on a Sunday afternoon, while she's scavenging the accent pillow aisle.
- Thread is destined to become a classic. Total riot.
- I am the "plus-sized professional" separates purchased at Lane Bryant at the mall, which is where all of my work clothes come from.
- I'm the Cathy comic strip. I'm her patron saint.
- I'm all those decorative flags in yards and on porches, welcoming the season or tying in with a major holiday. I'm also a bunch of chintzy crap that vaguely looks like a wreath, hanging on the door. I am from Garden Ridge.
- I'm the pathetic gay man in the next cube who no one in the office likes because I have a complete lack of social skills and no understanding of the world beyond my own narrow perspective. I spend almost all my time when not at work posting on DL about the frau in the next cube.
- We're Reese Witherspoon and Sandra Bullock. You made us very, very rich.
- I am 'Precious Moments' and Barry Manilow.
- I'm the crafting/scrapbooking nook in the basement "mom cave." The table is no longer visible under all the shopping bags from Michaels and Joann Fabrics.
- I'm the next fad diet. I will succeed for a few weeks, and then I will fail epically.
- I'm the box of merlot, because she's a 'wine drinker'.
- R82 = The Flyover Frau this thread is about.
- I'm the singing competition shows that she lives for, and takes up two hours of time she and the other fraus should be working as they dissect the previous night's episode while standing around their cubes.
I'm the Bertolli frozen dinner that Michelle will prepare for Brad, whenever he returns from buying bath tub caulk at Home Depot. What IS taking him SO long?
- I'm the scissors used for extreme couponing. It's hard work feeding a family of six!
- I know, right?
- Thanks R25, I HATE that shit.
- I'm the ring on her right hand with all of her kids birthstones. When she (rarely) takes it off she see's the distinct impression on her finger reminding her of her weight gain. Grabs another donut from the break roomroom.
- I'm the Coldwater Canyon and Chico's stores in the mall where I get the "trendy" clothes that cover my gunt and, in times of austerity, could double as drapery or a tablecloth.
- R99 = the vicious friendless misogynistic amoeba R82 was talking about who is so bitterly jealous he can't bear to acknowledge that a female is more attractive to most men than he will ever be, no matter how much he hisses and scratches like an elderly tabby cat.
- I'm the long-suffering theater seat in the local cinema, getting drenched daily in frau ooze during the four week run of any "Twilight" film.
Dear God, Have Mercy on me!!!
- I'm the Bed Bath & Beyond 20% Off Coupon torn out from last month's Good Housekeeping magazine that is sitting in the kitchen next to the land line.
- I'm the cheerleader who's packed on the pounds and can't understand how that happened.....
....when I drive everywhere and anywhere, and stop by the Bakery Outlet store every day to fill my minivan with "healthy" snacks. Because as long as it says "fresh baked" it's healthy, right?
- I'm the tacky, overpriced Las Vegas show that WOWS the fraus from near and far.
- I'm the undulating frontbutt, held in place by size-42 poly-cotton blend black "work pants" from Avenue, which act as retaining wall.
- I'm the three empty boxes of Thin Mints strategically placed under all the other trash in the garbage can, hoping never to be found.
- R106, It's Coldwater Creek.
- I am the collection of roosters, or cows, or pigs that line the kitchen, fill tables in the living room, and annoy the heck out of the husband.
- In which state should our FF reside? I say Ohio, Indiana or maybe Michigan.
- I am the instant hot cocoa she will drink after picking the kids up from soccer, or lacrosse or football.
I am the little Christmas lights on the shrubs outside at Christmas time. There's a little angel and manger scene, too.
I am the plastic goose all dressed up in different outfits for each season or holiday.
- I'm a strawberry. And I'm the decorative theme in the kitchen and the nook!
- I'm the ice cubes in her glass of chardonnay.
- I'm the Diet Coke with her Double Whopper.
- I am the frosted pink nail polish and the gold rings on every finger. One hand is holding a 16oz. tumbler glass of Riunite White Zinfandel that is full of ice cubes, and the other hand is holding a Misty Menthol Light 100.
- I am the elastic in the waistband of the pants, now stretched out and doubled over by belly fat -I mean bloating.
- I am the raging period she seems to be having every single day of the month.
- I'm the "50 Shades of Gray" book in the nightstand drawer and I'm considered "naughty". *rolling eyes*
- I'm the Sarah Palin/John McCain bumper sticker.
- I'm the "Will & Grace" DVD box set she keeps prominently displayed to show everyone how much she loves gay people.
- It's July, so I'm her white capri pants. You can see through me, my panties aren't sexy.
- I'm Facebook, on which she feels every shit little Amber and Ariel makes needs to be posted.
- I'm the marshmallow trifle that she makes every holiday. At Christmas she adds nuts and cranberry and at Easter, Peeps. I'm adorable and secretly loved by all the kids who openly make fun of me and their mom for her "white trash roots". The only time she hasn't made me was when she was dying from breast cancer. The following Easter, all of the kids scoured the internet for a recipe that looks close. We do this behind closed doors b/c our New York friends would scoff. Nobody thought to ask their mom my recipe or much of anything toward the end. She was so maudlin. Those kids will never know the secret ingredient which was the barf of her favorite diabetic Yorkie, Blaze. That beatific smile her kids later remember so fondly was just her laughing at their pretentious asses.
- I'm the tickets to the Carrie Underwood concert, one of her favorite American Idol winners.
- I'm the pointless Facebook argument that she starts but can't finish, although she feels compelled to have the last word.
- I'm the purity rings purchased for Ashley and Tiffany that they will hock in a few years to pay for their Oxycotin habit or banned abortion.
- I'm her Pintrest page on which she pins her favorite recipes and home decor tips.
- I'm the tasteful but edgy stud in her nose, it looks great with her porcupine haircut.
- I'm her hubbie's secret cockring.
- I'm the tube of KY jelly for anal night with the husband.
- I'm the anal beads her husband hides
- I'm the Eclipse gum her husband chews to mask his cock-scented breath.
- I'm the Spanx Oprah told her to buy.
- OP wishes he were a frau. That way he'd get dick from someone familiar.
- I'm little Kyler's peanut allergy. I am the bane of her existence. Every thought of hers turns to how I might prove the death of little Kyler if she does not remain forever vigilant.
- I'm the Fibromyalgia medication that has made billions in free money for big pharma.
- I'm the pirate shirt from 1992. I was purchased on sale at Saks and she's right, someday I will be back in style. But won't she be surprised that despite my blousiness back then, I am seriously tight around the tummy now.
- I'm the average daily number of near misses on the road as she cluelessly attempts to multitask (chatting on cell, drinking latte, doing her makeup in rear-view mirror) while driving her Chevy Suburban.
- I'm her therapist, for some reason she has this notion her husband is hiding something from her. I asked her "how does that make you feel?" but we quickly ran out of time. See you next week, same time?
- I'm the croutons, bacon bits, deep-fried chicken strips, cheddar cheese shreds, and Russian dressing she mixes into her health salad.
- I'm her husband's cock shot in the m2m casual encounters section of Craig's List.
- I'm the pink princess dress that 6 year old daughter, Rileigh refuses to wear after her makeover at the Cinderella Salon. In a few years my petticoat will hide the Playboy magazine pilfered from her father and she won't be reading the articles.
- I'm r30 otherwise known as the bitter bitch from across the street.
- I'm the many women her husband is ACUALLY cheating on her with, rather than the DL fantasy that he cheats with men.
- Clearly, r150 hasn't been in the men's room at the mall, the one at the far end. Nor has she been in the gym steam room. Craig's list much? Recognize that dick in the photo under M4M? I didn't think so.
- I'm her next fantasy. She sees me in the grocery store and can't help but look, even though the Bible tells her no.
- I'm the flyer fraus at R7, R30/32 who have been happily posting on DL soap threads, and enjoying The Pet Gays, and are now shocked and revolted to the marrow that they're TURNED.
- R25's post is lethally accurate. Brilliant.
- I'm the artificial sweetener that Michelle adds gallons of to her coffee because she's trying to lose weight before her niece Lisa Beth's wedding.
- These lets pretend threads are always so awful and stupid. The same 3 giggling asswipes are the only ones who participate.
- Finally R150 hits the thread with a dose of reality.
I've never read so many wet dreams in all my life.
At least lesbians aren't so fucking damn delusional!
- Clearly R151 has never been beat within an inch of his life by a straight man. Unfortunately for him, it's in the cards.
- R157 = Dumb dyke
- R159 = delusional fag with a U-Haul full of fantasies
- LOVE this thread! It is EXACTLY the way I imagine flyover women really are so it is good to see my imagination is spot-on!
- I'm the itinerary for her exciting weekend in NYC with the girls, with "Magnolia Bakery" listed as #1.
- I am the collection of colorful shawls and scarves that I artfully drape to detract from my bloated face and figure. My patron saints are Oprah and Debra Messing circa Smash.
- I'm the Pandora bracelet that Michelle jangles at every gathering, hoping that someone will ask her about all of her charms.
- I'm the sofa-sized Thomas Kincaid she got for a song from that sad girl at the Flea Market.
- I am either GoldenSkate for FSUniverse when she responds to an inquiry about a skater's sexuality, "it's really no one's business", but will go on and on and on about Dorothy Hammill's or Michelle Kwan's dating habits and marriage.
- I'm the remnants of an American Girl Dollafter Carol and Marcia, the meanest girls in Grand Rapids, each grabbed an arm and pulled.
- I am the j'adorbes family set of beach sandals pasted on the far back window of my Excursion.
- I'm the clothing that hides ALL those "icky places".
- I'm the question "can you tell me where Central Perk is?" that she asks people on the street when she visits New York.
- I'm the "mommyblog" where I tell you all about my busy week, but still have time to share a recipe for a 2 minute frittata-in-a-mug when you're on the go!
- r121 is way too fab to be a frau.
- I'm the chenille pillows from Home Goods on the lazi-boy in front of the 120-inch TV screen in the bonus room.
- R121 is not a Frau. She's a lot more fun, she's more of a fag-hag.
- Come on now r150, step back girl, you know you're right on the nerve
- I'm her belief that her husband subscribes to "Men's Health" magazine for fitness tips.
- I'm the sneering, pinched face as a young hottie, minding her own business, walks by my husband.
- I'm the new diet that she's started over the weekend and has to tell everyone about. Repeatedly. Especially around lunch time when she feels the need to comment on what everyone else in the office is eating.
- I'm Jenny McCarthy prospecting for Mommy Warriors to join my anti science crusade. Once my stint on The View starts resistance is futile.
- I'm the knee length forest green cardigan from 1998. I hang in her cubicle covering an old Chippendale calendar page. What a hunk! If the temperature dips below 74 degrees, I'm flung on in a huff. Even I think that if the bitch who owns me ate an actual bite of food and got more than .02% body fat, she wouldn't be so fucking cold all the time.
- I'm the stain on the upholstery in the back seat of the Buick. What the hell is that? Doug had the car last. He took it on that business trip to Minneapolis.
- I am the secret plan she is hatching in her head to get the most food out of the conference room without anyone noticing, with all the stealth and cunning of a Soviet-era KGB agent.
- I'm the thin, attractive, twentysomething woman in the office the frau never misses a chance to be a condescending bitch to. Why does she seem to hate me so much?
- I'm the obese, triple-chinned one clad in a baggy polyester blouse thing and, oddly, stretch polyester pants with her hair pulled back, trying for an I Dream of Jeannie look. Thing is, nobody is dreaming of this gal, unless it is a nightmare. She pushes another customer out of the way at the bakery to get to the 2 day old markdown doughnuts, the ones that are something like 2 dollars for 12. She especially gets grabby when there are custard filled chocolate doughnuts. Then she will grab the 2 day old cinnamon buns. They're still good with coffee.
- r170, she also thinks that New York apartments are really that spacious and doesn't understand why they are so expensive.
- I am the All-You-Can-Eat Chinese buffet, where she and the brood will stuff their faces. Husband can't be there for some reason. He's, umm, at the gym. Yeah, yeah, that's what he's doing, workin' out. Um hummmmm....
- I'm the craft room that Michelle insisted the new house had to have. I'm mostly unused, except to store the boxes from her QVC binges
- I'm the car booster seat that 12 year old Jayden, whose voice is starting to change, is still forced to sit in because "you can't be too careful."
- I love how most of these feature a cheating husband, usually with secret same-sex encounters.
- In my case it's based on a true story R189. I had a caromance with a cheating husband a few times. The last time he couldn't find the jizz in the car afterwards. Freaked the fuck out.
- Same with me and 2 of my pals. We have been with guys who have the wife, the kids, the house in the 'burbs, the works.
- I'm the busy hostess , rushing off to Aldi to big up 2 more boxes of wine for tonight's dinner party, where we'll have 6 at the main table, and 4 at the table, just outside the slider, on the screened in porch.
- Fraus really are very sympathetic creatures and represent the Id in our collective Ego.
Let's put it this way: without the hubby, these women would be bag ladies. They know it, we know it, society knows it.
This causes a collective anxiety in fraudom which oozes into our lives as well.
Fraus run our emotional lives, whether we like it or not.
- I'm the calgon moment taken with a few xanax and an apple martini after my eldest daughter Sissy felt the need to inform my "challenged" daughter Jill about periods. Jill and her new found knowledge of periods was a major challenge at the supermarket this afternoon. I am lucky I am not in jail.
- I'm the bags worth of thousands of dollars worth of baby clothes donated to the Second Chances Consignment sale at Mt Calvary Baptist Church. The giver hopes her small contribution will bring comfort to a teen mom but proceeds buy the pastor's wife new seat warmers in her Mercedes.
- I'm the lovingly hand stitched baby blankets donated to needy families by filthy rich, bored church-fraus. Never mind that they could skip the sewing circle and just BUY the damned quilts to donate, or better yet, give needy families something they can actually use......MONEY.
- I'm the mobility scooter.
I'm Michelle. Brad went to Home Depot several hours ago and STILL hasn't returned. He won't answer his calls or texts. He KNOWS the kids have their baton show in 2 hours!
OMIGAWD! Did he get in an accident? How am I going to tell Aiden, Brayden, Cayden and Hayden that Daddy can't watch them twirl to that Rhianna song--"Diamonds"? They worked SO HARD on that routine with Mister Dorian,their baton teacher.
I'm Brad. Mister Dorian is giving me a personal one-on-one lesson in baton twirling, if you know what I mean....
- I am the mysteriously empty browser history of the home computer.
- Mich babe, sorry 4 not getting bakc sooner but found this gr8 power tool i went nuts 4. lost track atime. u no how i get round power tools. Wisk kids gl and tell em daddys on his knees praying they do good. Gonna stop by pick 'n save 4 mouthwash and then head home. l8erz babe
- I'm Brad. I'm getting my cock sucked at lunch by my assistant, a woman.
- I'm Brad. I'm getting my cock sucked at lunch by my assistant, a woman, while my hunky male boss fucks me from behind.
- I'm Brad. I'm fat. My sex drive is nil. I'd rather have a six pack and a bag of Cheetos.
- Actually, I'M Brad.
I'd rather fuck my fat frau wife with her reindeer xmas sweater on, and casserole on her breath, than let a man anywhere near me.
I'm the printed copies of Michelle and Brad's wedding pictures from 1998. Michelle is making a
"Precious Memories" scrapbook. I am stained with her tears as she wonders why Brad never returned home from Home Depot with the bathtub caulk.
As she pastes pictures of her children performing their baton routines, she also wonders what ever happened to Mister Dorian, their baton teacher. He was sooooo nice, even though he seemed a bit "light in the loafers".
- I'm the guest room that has now become a holding tank for her EXTREME COUPONING obsession.
I have over 800 rolls of sandpaper-grade toilet paper. But hey - it only cost her $4!
- I'm the cup of Activia
- I'm Michelle. Even though I'm fat and unattractive, I can get more cock than ANY of you bitches. And the ones I can't get won't get violent when I come on to them. I can hold Brad's hand in public, and display affection publicly anywhere in the world without being hassled or beaten up or killed.
Suck on that and pretend it's a cock.
- I'm Brad's hand that Michelle likes to hold in public and which contains residue from being used to fist a male Craig's List trick just 2 hours earlier.
- I'm Brad's craigslist trick, ...
- I'm Brad's craig's list ad.
- I am the HIV Brad is spreading to his wife, AND his trick.
- I'm her girl crush on Jillian Michaels. I edged out the one she had on Jackie Warner. Thoughts of Jillian's perfectly sculpted abs that you can see when she wears the black sports bra is her motivation for attending Tuesday / Thursday Zumba and Monday / Wednesday yoga.
- I'm the orgasm that Michelle's never had. Not even once.
- I'm the family stickers on the back glass of the minivan.
- I'm Michelle and that's my husband, Brad, alright @ R212. What a dope! He didn't even attempt to hide his tattoos. I just emailed that link to everyone in his extended family, to his co-workers and to all the guys in his hockey league.
- I'm her insistence that Hugh Jackman is a happily married straight man.
- I'm her marketing career that seems to a website with a lot if Zig Zigler quotes and other inspirational garbage. If you scroll down you'll see my rates for being your personal New Media Guru. For 1200 bucks I will proofread your company's website content and give you tips on how increase your presence on the twitterverse! Thes3 consultations are 5 to 6 hours and are a 5 thousand dollar value! What? Oh no I won't write any content or design anything. I'm your Social Media Muse! For just 350 bucks more I'll send out an email blast to an exclusive list that includes such luminaries as my grandparents and anyone stupid enough to friend me on Facebook. Book your consultation today!
- The nightly blow jobs her teenage daughter performs on the football jocks behind the bleachers.
- I'm the bottle of vodka in the center console.
- I'm the nylons drapped over the shower rod.
- I'm the PTO meeting she's rushing to get to after picking Madasyn up from soccer practice.
- I'm the shock expressed at hearing Kidd Kraddick died.
- I'm the Pampered Chef spatula. 20 dollars. The Scentsy starter pack, 50 dollars. The iVibe iPod vibrator 150 dollars. The Mary Kay acne system. 75 dollars. The realization that your friend Marie is just using you as a warm body to get her free histess gift? Priceless.
- I don't live in New York, but that hasn't stopped me from posting all over the web, particularly on (Huffington and Datalounge) dozens of smarmy, finger-wagging smug posts decrying Anthony Weiner as a "pervert".
My husband likes to drink urine and I haven't had sex for four years.
- I'm a big, clown-like corduroy floral jumpsuit (complete with outsize floppy bows on the front pockets) from Laura Ashley. I was bought in 1996, but geez, it's still so comfortable and colorful -- as I flounce around my office, all self-important -- talking about casseroles and collectibles. Hurl.
- I'm the incessant home parties that keep my week so busy.
Tastefully Simple, Thirty One, Longaberger Baskets, Pampered Chef, Tupperware, Incredible Edible Undies....
It's of course fun time and wine time! But those bitches better be buying something so I can get my hostess gift!
- R227, no one but you knows what you're talking about. Please post a picture of that dress. Oh, and "hurl' goes in the Author line, otherwise your frau is making herself sick.
BTW--is the dress talking about casseroles and collectibles or is it your frau? I'm confused. Same with R228 and R225. Decide what you want to be. Are you a spatula or a frau?
- I'm the Fleshlight that Michelle thinks is a garage tool.
I keep it up near my saws and take it down when our hairy Italian neighbor Frankie is mowing his lawn in short shorts....
- R229 is very sad. I would be too if my asshole was so clenched I hadn't taken a shit in four years!
- I am passive aggression, which runs through my veins where blood used to be.
- yes, r229. Not all of us are gifted writers and grammatical wizards. Go take a massive shit. You'll feel better, Triple Oh Dear. You added NOTHING to the conversation. Enjoy stewing in your own, lonesome sourness.
- I'm the kerfuffle at Olive Garden after the server slipped Doug her number on his way out to the parking lot and the wife saw it.
- "I'm a [italic]housewife[/italic]. And I long to have a great American man like George W. Bush in the White House again."
- I'm the interfaith prayer vigil she organized in the high school auditorium after the Boston marathon bombing that occurred 5,000 miles away.
- I'm her cluelessness at Brad never having any workout clothes for the wash despite hitting the gym seven days a week.
- I'm a cupcake. I'm her mid-week "treat" because she has been working so hard on her diet (eating celery in public and binging on brownies in private) and exercise program (her power-walks which last one block before she stops to yap away on her phone).
I am just so cute and YUMMY! And because I'm not a full sized dessert, I'm practically harmless, even with the two inch layer of cream cheese frosting.
I am actually 800 calories.
- I'm the receipt for that no-tell motel in the bad part of town that she finds while cleaning out her husband's shirt pockets before taking them to the dry cleaners.
- r187, that is too spot on.
- I'm Brad's diabetes!
I don't really exist, but Brad pretends to have me when his seven inches of manhood just can't get hard around Michelle anymore.
Ironically, I disappear completely around Topher, the hairy 24 year old grad student Brad stalks at the sauna in the gym.
- I'm the tickets to the Disney cruise! Her daughters Myranda and Madyson deserve it. It will 5 nights of gorging on buffets while the girls indulge in time honored nautical past-times such as ice skating, roller coasters, rock climbing and zip lining.
- I'm the bedroom door her son Maxwell keeps locked when he's in there "studying" with his best friend Chad.
- I'm her right-wing, gun petting husband. I blather on and on about how America is being overrun by immigrants, feminazis are ruining the workplace, Obama is taking my guns and if we're not vigilant, Sharia law will invade our courts. I keep the car radio tuned to right wing talk all the time. The missus listens to books on tape on her iPod. I'm certain she agrees with me on everything. I've actually never asked. I asked her who she voted for in the last election and she laughed and said "Who do you think?"
- I'm her Sketchers Shape-Ups that are going to *totally* transform her body in time for summer swimsuit season at the lake!
- I'm the massive gunt she calls "Mama's little poochie."
She's so proud of me and says I'm a result of birthing Cayden, Jaden and Brayden.
The US Postal Service is assigning me my own postal code next week!
- In 4 days we have managed to post nearly half the number of allowed posts! Someone remember to start part 2 when we hit the limit. This thread is too good, and too true, to end!
- I'm her ten-minute argument with the cashier at the Shop 'N Save over her misreading the ad in the weekly circular regarding the "limit 4 per customer" fine print under the "Buy 1 Get 1 Free" 1-liter Coke offer.
- I'm the 36-pack of cupcakes from Ralph's bakery department that Michelle's carrying as she barges in unannounced to Cameron's 3rd-period English comp. class. See Cameron sink down into his chair as Michelle demands everyone join in a chorus of "Happy Birthday To You".
- I'm the Curves where Michelle and her friends Tiffany, Amberlyn and Kaisie go to "exercise."
They never do exercise, though. Unless pointing the remote at the TV to turn "The Bold and The Beautiful" on counts as calorie burning.
They only live four blocks away, but all four of them drive here in their minivans....
- I am the neon colored sandals she will wear at the lake, the ones with the bright pink daisy. She thinks she is being edgy and fashionable when wearing these. Really, she just looks ridiculous. But, she'll do plenty of shopping on her Ipad and buy something else, so no harm done.
- I'm the clerk at Coldwater Creek who tells Michelle that she looks fabulous in yellow, or in patterned corduroy, when she really looks like someone tore the curtains and tablecloths from a very ugly home and wrapped it around the Michelin Man.
Bitch, they don't PAY me enough for this shit.
And now I have to run to Orange Julius to get this heifer a "refreshment."
- I am the tights and leggings worn in the belief that they are comfortable, slimming, and flattering. Instead I look like sausage casings with FUPA, camel toe and the rank smell of lady problems.
- I am the holiday decorations in the office. You will not see Michelle or and of her fellow cubefraus do any work all day long, as they place tinsel on every available surface, and argue about where each individual ornament should be placed on the plastic Christmas tree in Reception.
- I am the Glad reusable containers Michelle keeps in her desk.
She claims I'm there to help her organize her desk, but I sit empty until there's a potluck or the company treats workers to lunch or snacks.
Then Michelle hoards pieces of pizza or cookies into me like the End Times are coming and throws me into her Curves bag to take home.
- I am 3:00pm, the time Michelle cuts out of work early because of some bullshit excuse, usually involving her children or her babyman of a husband. It's ok though, because the single, childless workers will stay until 6:30 to pick up the slack.
- I'm the light blue color that flyover fraus seem to love.
I am everywhere - the color of her minivan, the color of her bedsheet sized panties, on every wall in her home, on every wall in her cubicle, and in the background of all her unicorn posters and blankets.
- And I'm the red of Brad's jockstrap. Brad hates blue.
He likes me, and he likes the black jockstrap Topher fills out every day!
- I am the silent, deadly rage which will manifest itself in Debbie in the form of driving a van full of kids into a freezing lake and then try to pin it on an "Illegal".
- I'm Michelle's wedding photo that is 8x10 and proudly displayed in her cube. I was taken in 1989.
- I'm the New Calvary Kingdom of Jesus Praise Tabernacle. Frau Frauington comes every Sunday with her brood in their mini-van, the congregation once have her a standing ovation because she did a sidewalk intervention outside the women's health (abortion) center, the young girl chose to turn away from the center and save her baby....that day. The following week she went to the clinic in the next county and took care of business.
Anyway, our Frau feverishly posts on Facebook about how much she loves going to me on Sunday. "I roll with Jesus" she says to her 500 Facebook friends, she even 'checks in' on Facebook when she arrives. She gets antsy towards the end of the worship service because she needs a table for seven at Cracker Barrell and they're always a challenge.
- I am the cupcake wagon that pulls up outside of the office building. In two seconds, it will be a frau stampede like the bulls at Pamplona. They will then spend the rest of the day discussing which cupcakes they had, asking the other fraus which cupcakes THEY had, and then talking about how they should have ordered those cupcakes instead. No work will be done whatsoever.
- I'm the CD of this week's church service, purchased for $25 at r261 's gift shop. I'm about to go on a family-wide tour (with a brief stop at the workplace cafeteria) because Michelle has decided everyone needs to listen very closely to me or else be damned to hell.
- I'm the stack of old Redbook, Good Housekeeping, and Woman's World magazines sitting next to the toilet in the master bathroom. One must never discard casserole recipes and coupons to Hobby Lobby.
- I'm Halloween. Michelle won't allow her children to acknowledge me in any way when I roll around, because I'm "of the devil".
...and I'm the Gospel of St Matthew. Michelle will not allow her kids to open their Christmas presents until she reads me to them in my entirety, lest they forget "the true meaning of Christmas"
- I'm the hot new coffee shop/bar with free wifi that's hosting tomorrow's Girls Night Out. I specialize in farm-to-table cuisine and craft cocktails!
- I am a stretched-out pair of Spanx.
- [quote] I'm Halloween. Michelle won't allow her children to acknowledge me in any way when I roll around, because I'm "of the devil".
But she sure doesn't mind eating all 63 of the Reese's Cups her kids get from school, teachers and other parents. To save them from any hidden razor blades, of course.
- This thread seems a little disturbing. Aren't straight white women usually our allies; as well as our mothers, sisters and friends. Maybe I'm lucky, but I just don't experience hate like this. Even reading it between the lines here makes me queasy.
Seriously, I mean no disrespect, but maybe the guys posting here should just hook up with a straight acting gay guy, forget about fashion, dick size or whatever stylish shit y'all are usually concerned with and just get married and be like everyone else. I did and I suppose I am even a "homemaker" though not by choice, but by circumstance, and I don't experience the alienation and anger behind this thread.
I'm openly gay, straight acting and my partner and I are perfectly happy and assimilated into our families, friends and the community.
- If Faux News got ahold of this thread they would wet themselves. The straight equivalent of this thread is "Let's pretend we are limp wristed fairies". Yes, frau here is used hatefully.
Most mainstream straight forums would ban that thread immediately and people would not be piling on hateful posts. This post makes me ashamed to be a member of DL.
- I'm a gay frau. My mother, sisters and friends are fierce! No one at the craft fair guessed I was gay when I won with my faux-bois printed stationary and placemats!
- I'm the concern troll.
I believe that the so-called frau mentality resonates so deeply with many gay men and that they are so attracted to the privilege of tinkering with minutiae all day long that it scares them.
- Me too R270. Me too.
People contributing to this hate should just think how they would feel if there were a thread like R270 describes on a women's site. This is mean and ugly.
- Fraus are not all women, they are a very specific sub-set.
- I'm the Honey-Do list of things hubby better get done over the weekend.
I will spend Monday morning reviewing after I get the kids on the bus to day camp.
Reading these posts makes it seem like only straight men understand gay men, as every flavor of women are attacked here. Most disturbing are the posts making fun of women for volunteering (!)
If you think your straight male coworkers or aquaintances are going to be less judgmental of you, you have been inhaling too much Febreeze.
I also think many of these posters have at best and annoying female boss or some deep seated issues with their mommies. Learn to stand up for yourself rather than spewing your hate here. If straight forums were overun by "Let's pretend we are limp wristed fairies" threads you would be organizing boycotts of the advertisers on that thread.
- R269, you must be new here, so I'll try to explain. You see, a fair number of DL'ers live in trailer parks and this is the type of woman they see every day. Those of us who are fortunate enough to own homes with no wheels attached don't encounter these women. Or if we do, we don't take much notice of them.
- So going by this thread, since you are OK with hating a "specific subset" of people, I guess it is OK if straights can relentless bash "a specific subset" of gay people?
Just because some people do it anyway does not make it right.
- What is with the hate for people who do not live in NY or LA on this site? I strongly suspect the majority of people who post or read this site are not from those 2 cities. I grew up in NYC and people do not waste their time hating on people who live in the Midwest. As many other posters have said: Unclench.
- [quote] They will then spend the rest of the day discussing which cupcakes they had, asking the other fraus which cupcakes THEY had, and then talking about how they should have ordered those cupcakes instead. No work will be done whatsoever.
What did it taste like?
What did it smell like?
Ooh, girl. Was it good?
- Fraus tend to be very religious and as a result homophobic.
- I am sure people here are racing to put an Oh Dear! (relentless bash should be relentlessly bash) on r279 than to actually show "wit and wisdom". I have never been on ivillage but I bet their moderators would ban a hateful thread in about 30 seconds.
It is extremely witty to make fun of fat women with bad taste who eat crappy food. People of Walmart does it better.
- Gee, r281, no one on DL ever seems to obsess over food... Whether it is the innumerable fast food threads or the people who insist on listing menus for their boyfriends, no one on this thread has a food fixation. No sirree.
- r282 believes that while these women are homophobic and evil, their homophobic and evil husbands secretly want to sleep with him and are therefore ok.
How could I forget that in DL world ALL men are gay, and women are either Mitchfest lesbians and straight and hateful.
Where is the hate for homophobic straight men on here? They seem to get a pass. I have seen people like Michelle Bachman's husband be ridiculed but where is the hate for straight and straight acting men who hate gay people?
That's right, because a cheap joke about women eating cupcakes doesn't require any wit or wisdom.
- 1. Douche the excess yeast out of the vadge;
2. Dump the ill behaved brats at day care;
3. Stuff the pie hole with Pinkberry;
4. Continue anal bleaching treatments (to get the brown out!);
5. Catch "All My Children";
6. Douche again....yeast is a tough mofo;
7. Cook up a batch of Mac and Cheese for the family;
8. Blow the black cable repair man;
9. Pop a Klonopin;
10. Slip into a coma after chugging a bottle of White Zinfandel.
- Maybe issue here is that ns differentiating between the sad, unfulfilled housewives and the viscious, kill-them-with-gossip broads.
The sad ones deserve all of our empathy, they are our moms, sisters, aunts, grandmothers, etc.
The evil bitches are often times bosses, neighbors, the 'other woman' or co-workers.
- I'm the tube of mascara that promises our frau a hip & glamorous life with fat lashes. I displace 9 other tubes of mascara to become her favorite.
- I'm the half retarded pet store Maltese "Taylor". In addition to being retarded, I'm vicious and have been banned from every vet and groomer in a 30 mile radius. I shit and piss everywhere but where I'm supposed to. My mom brought home a Yorkie from Petland and if I don't kill him, I'm going to make a litter of "Morkies" idiots will 750 dollars for these mutts.
- I'm the jean purse.
- I'm her husband's back surgeries. He likes to get lit on painkillers and discuss me with any service person who is a captive audience. Waitresses are his favorite. The wifejust smiles, she's heard it a thousand times. But she just smiles. She's gotten into his pain pills again.
- I'm the divorce research on the family computer in the kitchen. We all know that if hubby doesn't put in 16 hours daily at the office that the judge will side with Mom and the kids.
- I'm the recipe for apple torte that was in the paper last week. She jealously guards me like I was invented by her own grandma. When someone asks if it's cream cheese or ricotta, she just slyly smiles and says "I'll never tellllll" like that creepy Brittany Murphy movie.
- dark fraus.
- I get together every Wednesday with the girls for book club. We've been reading Eat Pray Love for two years and just love our boxed Rose. Not much progress on the book - but no single women or recent divorcee goes unscathed.
Oh wait no - that's not me that's most of the people posting to this thread.
Not defying any stereotypes here.
- I'm the associates degree that hubby paid for. It has come in mommy handy!
One sec --
Kyle, get in the mini-van and zip it until we get to soccer practice, mister!
- I'm the compassion she feels for lonely gay men.
- I'm the HBO subscription whose interface frustrates the HELL out of her.
She just wants to watch Samantha and the girls.
- I'm the buzzing cell phone that Anthony Weiner just texted another picture of his weiner to.
- I'm the sexy picture of a man in a tuxedo holding a red rose!
- I'm Bed, Bath & Beyond. She came in to buy a bath mat and a shower curtain and left with $300 worth of Yankee Scents candles.
- I'm the "World's Greatest Mom!" coffee mug filled with chewn pencils and old pens -- proudly displayed on her desk where everyone can see. She bought me herself.
- I'm the house with the bonus room and Jack 'n Jill sinks in the master. Big walk-in closet but not sure where hubby his stuff! hehe!
- I'm the cereal box tops WalMart is (humiliatingly) asking every frau to collect and submit as WalMart's condition for making a minor tax-deductible donation to Caitlin's school.
- r280 Exactly.
- I'm the DVR that is totally full of General Hospital, Dancing With The Stars, and American Idol episodes.
- I have to object to this thread again. At most we are 10% of the population. We have no future in a society that stereotypes and dismisses people based on a few outrageously offensive or ridiculous outliers. Since coming out of the closet have been supported by straight white women and men. Do you want to alienate 52% of the population. Do you want to mock your mother, sister, sisters-in-law, nieces, daughters, friends?
For all of you posting "jokes" here: how would you feel if "fraus" acted like you were a joke just because you were gay? How would you feel if "they" acted like your relationship was a facade and your husband or partner was longing inside to sneak away to have sex with a woman?
I know I would feel awful. Why don't all of you just meet a man, work really hard to build a lasting, monogamous relationship then have a marriage of your own? I detect so much misplaced anger and a lot of jealousy of "Michelle" because she is married to "Brad."
There are plenty of gay "Brads." They're probably over 35, built like a real man (not a rail thin waif) and they have it together too much to be "snarky," obsessed with the latest teeny-bop music or bother trying to be "hip." So you're overlooking your own chance for happiness.
But, you'll have plenty of time to obsess over Andy Cohen or the latest NYC-ish TV show, the one you'll suddenly decide is Un-cool because the rest of the culture enjoys too.
If any straight women are reading this, let me say that most of us are perfectly nice, normal and we aren't assholes who pick on you because we're too chicken-shit to go after our real enemies in this world. On behalf of all the gay guys who appreciate your help in making equal rights, gay marriage and acceptance a reality in our lifetimes: I apologize for these (I have to say it) Toxic Little Queens!
- They do act that way in private, R307. They despise gay people and won't even say the word gay or allude to a relationship between two people of the same sex in front of their children. They will preach lovey things on their Facebook and be totally hateful and judgmental behind closed doors.
- I'm One Million Moms, and I'm going to make sure all the ladies hear about this awful website!
- I'm the friendless asshole with no social skills. I am the modern day Walter Mitty. In my mind I wear Versace and Dolce and eat at Nobu but in reality I buy my designer clothes from Marshalls and eat Taco Bell. I go to the local gym and pretend I am at Equinox. I hate my female voworkers and in my mind are putting them down and cannot wait to make fat jokes on DL. I also like to scream FREEPER on DL if anyone puts forth an opinion that may offend my un exfoliated skin.
- I'm the man who cannot look a cashier in the eye but cannot wait to type his witty comment about how fat women eat cupcakes.
I am the man who won't say a word to his jock douchbag male coworkers who cheered on Mitt Romney but will go out of his way to be an asshole to the woman who has a cat picture in her cubicle.
- No R308 you're wrong. My mother is not a bigot. Nor is my sister, my sister-in-law, my nieces, my friends, etc.
I don't want to get banned, so I won't speak out on this thread against a form of prejudice DL allows and encourages. But it makes me sad and angry to see straight white woman put down after they, as a group, stuck up for us. I don't hate them. I'm gay and I don't hate anybody-except the people who really hate us.
If your depressing view of people were true gay marriage would be a pipe dream, sodomy laws would still be on the books and I would not be out of the closet living with the man I will someday soon marry. The future is here. Give people a little credit; they're not as obsessed with you as you are with them.
- Congratulations on never having met one of these people. Or being so kind that you don't find them just a little annoying. Most of these are in fun. Some are not. Just like the fraus who surround us.
- R313 thanks for giving permission to bash bad straights. The next time I hear gay bashi g instead of speaking up I will remind myself they must mean the bad gays and will say nothing.
- Actually, since I've been an adult, the one group of people who have treated me like crap is gay men. I have not met a single one, in real life or online, that hasn't wanted me for one thing and one thing only. Gay men won't be friends with me if I won't sleep with them. When they find out I am in a committed permanent relationship and will not commit an act of infidelity they mock my sincerity (and thus my relationship.) And they treat me like I am a "country hick" or a oblivious "Frau."
So why is it I should be prejudiced against straight white women? Shouldn't I be prejudiced against a certain type of gay men?
See how easy it is to give into hate? Dangerously so.
- So many times I see posts like yours r308 and I wonder why you come to a gay web site and then proceed to eat your own. Do you think the posters in this thread are going to know YOU are one in a million and take you to their hag loving bosoms? Get a clue, Toots. They don't want you here. You don't speak for all straight women any more than the people posting here speak for all gay men. Or women. You are not one of them and never will be. Stick to lurking about and shit can the condescension.
- So R316 it's condescending to speak out against prejudice and stereotyping? Well, I'm glad that there were people to "condescend" on our behalf so that we could gain our hard-won social and legal rights.
No I won't go away. And yes I will speak out against cruelty and little minds who attack our allies and make all of us look bad. I paid my $18 and I am entitled to my opinion.
If you want a real enemy to fight-read the thread about Vladimir Putin! You will never bring me down to your level.
- You're the only one who isn't wanted here, killjoy. If you think every white women is for gay marriage and gay rights I've got a bridge to sell you... little more than half do. Most of white women, especially the fraus who are being made fun of, adopt their white husbands' politically conservative views.
And eat my own? I identify less with straight conservative overweight white women than I do with gay men. I don't want to be anyone's 'hag' but one of my best friends is a gay man, who I have known since before he came out. I come here because I don't take myself too seriously and like the humor.
- Im an upsclass House Frau. My house dose not have wheels thank you. My gay husband bought a house by the airport. You could say we are international.
I moved in shortly after his purchase even though its all in his name. He brings home the bacon, I microwave it up in a pan.
I frolic in the back yard among my rose garden while I sip box wine fantasizing about my next soiree.
Busy making pu-pu platters and planning who to check off my next party list for being declasse.
You know who you are.
- While I confess to laughing--perhaps too much--at some of these (because they do evoke certain types, some of whom do merit a bit of satire, just as do some types of gay men), I do get the point some posters are making. My hope would be that the vast majority of posters and/or readers realize we are talking about a pretty narrow segment of white middle-class women: I have to say I agree with those gay men here who have said that straight women have been nicer and kinder to gay men than other demographics--including how we often treat each other. I have often said, when asked about whether I have experienced stigma and discrimination as a gay man, my answer has been yes, but not nearly as much as I have as a fat man (and a fat gay man--line me up for the extermination bunker). I also find the less clever of the postings are those that do seem obsessed with the husbands of these "fraus" (can't we come up with a better term, one that distinguishes these types from just everyday women trying, like all of us, to get through the day) and their seemingly universal hypocrisy and desire for cock. I'm old enough to remember the public sex scenes where closeted husbands went for sex (and I know they still exist). In some cases, these men were very nice people, caught in a time and situation not entirely of their making and perhaps wrapped in obligations they didn't know how to resolve. Some of them were just shitty, nasty men. In other words, they ran the gamut, like all of us. I don't recall any of them ever having a bad word to say about their wives--when it was negative, it was simply a sense of sadness or longing, a wish they had the foresight and/or courage to have made earlier discoveries or make other choices now.
That said, I think some of this is just playfulness, not unlike some of the play that goes on in the Michfest threads. It's meant for an insider group and, like certain kinds of camp, combines irony, desire, and some longing. It's when it just becomes mean, or stupid when it feels like it has gone on too far.
I mean, we've all been the "frau" who went into Bed Bath and Beyond to get a towel and came out with completely unnecessary things because we thought (usually mistakenly) that they would cheer us up. As Flaubert did not write, "Frau Frauenfrau, c'est moi."
- [quote] we've all been the "frau" who went into Bed Bath and Beyond to get a towel and came out with completely unnecessary things because we thought (usually mistakenly) that they would cheer us up.
Speak for yourself Frau. Yes, I know, you are gay, but you are a Frau at hart.
Not all gay men think like that or want that. While most of this is just about humor, I would contend that the reason behind the humor is the dislike of that type of Frau like behavior be it straight or gay. It's mindless, self involved and closed off the the regular world.
- Thanks to all the boot licking killjoys who destroyed a fun thread. I'm someones mom, sister, daughter and wife and I was enjoying the hell out of poking at these white bread busy bodies who are just so fucking pleased with themselves. My home is my only refuge from them. Tomorrow is double fucking coupon day at the grocery store and I can't put off a trip there any longer.
- This is a typical day in Frau Land.
- I'm the empty bottle of adderall that she finished 10 days too early even as she still keeps getting fatter.
- Some of the post were in fun, but some of them were creepy and pathetic.
- [quote] Thanks to all the boot licking killjoys who destroyed a fun thread.
Seriously. Apparently people can't fucking read the "gossip" and "pointless bitchery" sign on this site.
- A lot of the bitchery on this board is no longer pointless - it is anger directed at a certain group. Not uncommon to find racism, misogyny, anti-Semitism, or even against certain subsets of gays as an underlying theme in a number of threads. I can see why it would color how some people view these posts.
- I'm the Clay Aiken CD that will played in the minivan on permanent repeat....this is how Fran shows her support for gay rights.
- I am the kitchen with granite counters and color-coordinated everything, right down to the decorative "country style" bric-a-brac. It is never dirty because nobody is allowed to use it, except to make coffee or eat dry cereal.
I am the copy of "People" magazine that sits on the stool in the kitchen. It is the only reading material of substance in the kitchen, unless you want to include the idiotic signs with inspirational sayings.
- I am the online petition she has signed to boycott that store and label it "non-family friendly" because of its commercials featuring that gay actor.
- r226, when there is no wisdom and the "wit" are third rate Dane Cook reject jokes your argument is void. It just amazes me that no one directing their vitrol at the men who everyone on this thread swears is really gay and would definitely hook up with them if they weren't married.
I had no idea so many gay men believed all men are gay and dying to hook up with them.
Many women are fat, LMAO. No men are fat ever, especially at the office!!!
- My sister in law is fat, into scrapbooking and I think her husband is gay. She is kind, funny, generous and always welcoming to my partner and me at family gatherings.
This thread is hateful.
- I am the copy of the Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World. My compatriot is the hour by hour itinerary compiled after I've been studied and discussed ad nauseam.
- r332, you don't know what she's saying behind your back.
- That's right r334! All women hate gay men, especially the nice ones! Let's start a girls have cooties club!
- I'm the lonely bottle of Evian water that Michelle refuses to drink after a punishing "workout" of climbing one flight of stairs. Michelle prefers to have a can of Diet Coke instead of me.
- I'm the ladies-only lingerie party she's attending at Sue's house tonight, where she and the other girls will act all pseudo-naughty and pretend to be shocked by the garments.
- I'm the Chik-Fil-A Party tray she brought to work to show everyone, especially Royston, the guy in Accounting who has a rainbow sticker in his cubicle, just where she stood on the controversy. And that was with Jesus and Chik-Fil-A!
- I'm the fifty ***URGENT FOSTERS NEEDED*** posts she puts on FB each day. I feature emaciated cocker mixes nursing litters of 12 and pitbulls with half their faces chewn off. She has room for nearly all of the dogs and then some at her giant McMansion but she spent $850 on her Rooms to Go rugs.
- I'm the shoebox in the attic filled with her cassettes from high school. Amy Grant, Tiffany, Stryper (rock on!), Debbie Gibson, Glass Tiger...
- There are indeed people like this in flyoverland. We've all met them, at least those who have traveled to the coasts where we live. Some of them actually stay and become charming, sophisticated people like ourselves.
- [quote]Most of white women, especially the fraus who are being made fun of, adopt their white husbands' politically conservative views.
Really? Is that so? Link please.
[quote]I don't want to be anyone's 'hag' but one of my best friends is a gay man
Uh, huh. *snort*.
R308, get over yourself, cunt, and stop straining so hard to pat yourself on the back. R316 is right, you are not wanted here and you score no points with "the gheys" by throwing other women under the bus. In fact you're even more pathetic and clueless than the average frau. At least they're harmless for the most part. You, on the other hand, are quite scary and disturbing.
- Disturbing? Please explain. I'm an Ivy educated woman living and doing well professionally in one of the biggest cities in the world.
The namecalling really elevates your argument.
- I wanna talk about flyover folk, frau or pa. I think this is fun, let's get back on topic. If you don't like the topic, go to another thread!
- I'm the $250 "Hombre Highlights" I stopped being a thing 3 years ago but am super trendy in Ohio and Iowa these days. I look like 4 year old bad bleach job roots. I look just like the meth addicted hooker down the street's hair. But I cost 250 bucks.
- On the American version of the TV show The Office, the characters Phyllis, Angela and post-baby Pam are accurate depictions of fraus I've encountered in my experience, which has been nearly 100% in the workplace.
The characters Meredith, Jan, Holly and Mindy weren't fraus.
- I'm the James Patterson books that she reads like they were oxygen. She really likes the way I don't make her imagine the way characters look by thoughtfully describing which celebrities they look like. She CAN NOT WAIT to see the latest on the big screen, she really hopes Sandra Bullock is in it. That "The Heat" movie with the fatty was just so vulgar but she's willing to give Sandy another chance.
- I'm the lizard tattoo that she had tattooed over her buttcrack when she she was 19. I was one of the first tattoos she saw on the wall during a Spring Break trip to Panama City in 1997. She'd wanted "something tribal" but settled for me. Don't you dare call me a tramp stamp! I don't know it yet, but she's been saving the money to have me removed. She was so pissed she had to miss the whole Frankie B lowrider jeans movement. It's okay, I'll leave a purpley pink, lizard shaped scar.
- I'm the $13,000 embroidery machine. I'm capable of 12 fonts and in as many colors of threads as she's willing to buy. I'll make a nice little side business. Customizing totes, backpacks, tees, baby blankets, uh, uh, beach towels, regular towels, um, wash cloths. Whatever you want that's made out of fabric! She'll make a facebook page announcing her new venture, "Monograms by Mindy", she'll even make a few examples using her friend's kid's on cute little baseball hats. Until one of them comments "I would NEVER put Taylor's name on her clothes, kidnappers love this and many children have been abducted like that!!!
I'm the embroidery machine, I cost as much as a KIA and weigh just as much.
- I am the shopping/stroller that will hold little Jacob in and will be thoughtfully left in the middle of the shopping aisle while Debbie peruses which brands of soup are on sale, never mind the other customers who are having trouble trying to walk through.
- I'm the agonizing decision as to spell Jacob with a "C" or a "K".
I am the box of Franzia Sunset Blush hidden in the extra refrigerator out in the garage. When the kids are in bed and Brad is out of town "on business", Michelle will guzzle me directly from the spout as she sobs "what the fuck happened to me?"
- Rogers Octopus, no way does every gay man want you. You read weak. Maybe you're really hot, but I doubt it. And you can't even have fun on a "let's pretend" thread? Guys, and gals, these threads are designed to have fun with stereotypes. I love my mom and sisters. To death. But all of my posts on this thread are riffs on what they do! Lighten up.
- I am the faggy-doodle-hiney pretending he has a grasp of the world and all things in it. Especially politics and how fabulous Hillary is -the same Hillary who thought Bill's FBI sources on chemical weapons in Iraqi was spot on.
Even if it was totally wrong so what?
Faggy-doodle-hineys don't care about shit like that. She still deserved to be Secretary of state, which is like being head typist for the Gov of Montana of Maine or whatever-the-fuck-state RIGHT? So what's the big deal?
- I'm the surprise weekend getaway trip to Branson, Missouri Michelle has planned in an effort to rekindle her lost romance with Brad, who hasn't seemed interested in her these past several years.
- Oh another faggo-doodle-heiney thread. Enlighten us on your thoughts on politics. Is Bradley Manning a traitor do you think?
- I'm the white greasepaint used to scribble "GO KAYLEE! 2013 WHOO HOO!!" all over the minivan's windows in support of Kaylee's dance team competition.
- I am the webcam that is constantly recording Janet's "Coping with Fibromyalgia" Vlog. I wish I could record her having her "medicine" consisting of Chocolate cupcakes and Yoohoo.
- I'm the case of Ferrer Rocher chocolates bought at Sam's Club in June. My individual boxes will have a festive .02 bow slapped on top and take the place of everyone's Christmas tips. Total cost $18.99!!!! They're a big hit but I bet everyone will miss my special "Reindeer Poop Cookies"!!!! I just don't have time to fuss in the kitchen this year!!!!!!
- I'm the free food samples at Costco that are gorged on as if the frau hasn't eaten in a week. I'm just a sample you fucking hog, I'm not your fucking lunch!
- I'm her obsession with Blake Shelton. I make her think about him at least 50x a day. She knows which tiny town in Oklahoma he lives in and plans on buying a small trailer as a "second home." She's spending the money she'd been saving for a hip replacement but this seems like a better investment.
I'm the obvious gold cross necklace Michelle wears on the outside of her Quacker Factory sweater as she posts rants against "THOSE people"--Blacks, Mexicans, fags, dykes, hippies, heathens and communists--on Free Republic.
- I'm the booth at the Cracker Barrel where she drags everyone for brunch after church every Sunday. The grease-laden country grub is described as "comfort food" and calories be damned. She spends at least 20 minutes browsing the knick-knacks in the gift shop each week, and loves to ooh and ah over the olde-timey flair on the walls.
- I'm the TJ Maxx price tag she tears off before approaching the register, hoping to get a rock bottom price when the cashier calls up some poor shlub and sends him on a price check mission in the ladies dept to locate a similar garment.
- Won't some fraus PLEASE SHIT IN MY MOUTH????!!!!!!??????
- I'm the Beanie Baby collection.
- R353 You misrepresented what I said. I never said all gay men want me, what I said is the gay men who contacted me and tried to get to know me through Twitter had an ulterior motive. All I said was they should have the class to still be friends with me even though I'm not single. I do not claim to be unusually attractive. Actually by DL standards I'd be "fit-fat" and riddled with unforgivable qualities like Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, gluten-free and-worst of all-I live in the country: fly-over country! Gasp!
I suppose I feel bad for the women who are being insulted on this thread because I know how it feels to be attacked by gay men who think they are so "cool" and "funny" when they pick on people for being sincere and mature. When I read this I think to myself, what if someone who started a P-FLAG chapter reads this? What if a mother who has evolved her thinking once her son came out to her reads this? What's so bad about eating cupcakes?
A woman who sacrifices to care for rescue dogs who were discarded by a society that sees everything as disposable? How ridiculous! She must be a "Michelle," why does she waste her time on that when there are allegedly nude celebrity pictures to pour over!
Since when have straight white women been the enemy? I have to admit I just don't understand the bitterness and vitriol this site often reeks of, I do find it disturbing.
So go ahead, eat me alive! I'm beginning to think I made a mistake paying for a membership here.
- Roger Octopus, never apologize for being an open hearted, open minded and empathetic human being. We who stay hidden salute you. We can also pretty much hold our own in the "pointless bitchery" department. We have learned from the best. Don't go and don't ever change, Babe. You are loved.
- Jesus fucking Christ, R367, you must have the most clenched asshole in all of humanity.
Haven't you heard of PARODY?
The Onion must be a nightmare for you to read.
- [quote]The Onion must be a nightmare for you to read.
I know it is for me. It tries WAY too hard and is seldom as funny as it wants so desperately to be. It's cringe inducing. Sorta like most of the lame posts in this thread. I have yet to read anything worthy of a smirk much less laugh out loud funny.
If I'm not amused it's not because I'm humorless, or because you've offended my tender sensibilities (as a long time DL'er, I don't have any of those), it's because you bore me. Sorry.
- [quote]If I'm not amused it's not because I'm humorless, or because you've offended my tender sensibilities (as a long time DL'er, I don't have any of those), it's because you bore me.
So much so that I read all 370 posts!
- Roger Octopus needs to get banned. Soon.
- The Octopus paid his $18 R372 and he doesn't get off picking on people who did nothing to hurt us. He's not going anywhere.
- I agree: R121 is my kind of gal.
- J'adore you, Mr. Roger Cephalopod.
- Thank you Roger.
- I'm the television showing "Dancing with the Stars" which will be talked about by cube fraus all day.
- I'm the stack of Avon magazines that will be carefully handed out at Wednesday night's PTA meeting.
"The Skin-So-Soft lotion is to die for!"
- I'm earrings, each one in the shape of an inverted Christmas bulb. She loves Christmas. She starts wearing me to the office right after Thanksgiving.
- Roger, woman aren't the enemy. It's a thread utilizing parody. There have literally been hundreds of "Let's Pretend" threads, parodying Sumerian Houswives, gay men who work retail, straight guys watching a football game, a fake Datalounge bar. Everything. It's all harmless fun.
Now political threads? Those can get nasty.
- [quote] It's a thread utilizing parody. There have literally been hundreds of "Let's Pretend" threads, parodying Sumerian Houswives, gay men who work retail, straight guys watching a football game, a fake Datalounge bar. Everything. It's all harmless fun.
Unfortunately, we've been overrun with a lot of pearl clutchers who seem to live to be offended about SOMETHING.
- I'm her faux pearl necklace she clutches.
- I'm the bedazzled jeans worn too tight.
I am the multi-pierced ears.
- I'm Louie, the hit man Carol hired to kill Doug because of that whole Minneapolis thing. She doesn't know it, but Carol will be facing charges in the morning.
- R129 made me sad.
- I'm the Other and I like this thread:)
- I'm the ablation she's having done Monday. You sure you don't want to hear about the grapefruit sized cyst she has on her fallopian tube?
- I'm the figurative propeller.
- Is the Sumerian Housewives thread archived anywhere? I remember reading if when it was first started but I'm getting all nostalgic.
- I'm her soccer/basketball-playing jock-ish teenage daughter with a perpetual cast on her leg. She secretly resents me because I take attention away from her and because my type of non-life threatening physical issue precludes her from playing the mommie martyr.
- I'm the gym shoes Brad wears to the mall, along with his track pants, to give off that "jock dad" vibe as he cruises the mens rooms......
- Can someone provide a link to the Datalounge is a bar thread?
- I am that vague sense of uneasiness that will bubble into full-blown anxiety and depression when Michelle realizes her kids have their own lives and want more independence from her, she hasn't had a meaningful conversation or satisfying sex with Brad in 10 years, and besides her Pinterest and Facebook pages, she has no real outside interests.
- I'm the fat Frau at r7 who doesn't like the truth.
- I'm loving the Brad and Michelle posts.
- I'm a pair of PajamaJeans much loved by r30
- I'm her hot, trampy baby sister who's come to stay for the week. I plan on teasing my horny, pussy-starved brother-in-law by wearing skimpy outfits, and I'll let him "accidentally" catch me in the middle of night wearing just a bra an thong as I grab a glass of milk from the kitchen. He'll be on the verge of explosion by the time I leave next week.
- I'm the realisation at r82 that my husband sucks cock and loves it.
- I blame peanuts for everything.
- I'm Brad, Michelle's husband at r209. If I squint hard enough it can pass as an anus, which makes having sex bearable.
- Is Brad gay?
- I'm her best friend from high school. I moved to Manhattan and work in marketing at a large firm on Madison Avenue. I haven't married yet (!) so my cute little apartment is more than enough space, after all I never cook and spend most of my time out with friends. She looks at me with some strange combination of envy and longing, but hey, she wanted the kids and minivan.
What's up with her husband anyway?
- I'm the hour and half that she has to herself every week. The Huz takes the kiddos to get ice cream in the next town over. This is the best hour and a half she has all week. Right before the family is due back, she Swiffer Wet Mops the floor and sprays Pine Sol in the toilets to make it seem as if she's done something other than masturbate to House fanfic.
- I'm career day at Scottlyn's 5th grade class where she extols the virtues of her 24/7 "job" as a housewife.
- I'm R402. I'm convinced in my head that everyone envies me, even when they really don't. But hey--I'm from New Yawk! Everybody wants to live here!
- FAIL, R404! She is not "a housewife", she is "a chef, a chauffeur, a personal assistant (to her hubby!), a nurse, a teacher, a therapist, a "domestic engineer" (housekeeper), a personal shopper, a wardrobe consultant, an event planner, an activities coordinator, a veterinarian, a coach, a cheerleader and, the most important job of all, a MOTHER".
- I am the look of pity in the recruiter's eyes as I review her resume. Nearly 20 years out of the job market with no attempts to keep current and learn additional skills. Now with college tuitions looming, she and Brad are finding finances tight and thought it was time for Michelle to go back to work. Under skills and interests she lists Scrapbooking. Maybe we can find her something in the graphics department but she doesn't know In Design or Quark.
- I am the seething resentment and jealosy of the woman in the office who doesn't really need to work for a living because her husband earns in the high six figures, but working 'gives her something to do.'
- Actually, r209, in many places in the world you cannot display affection as you describe, even though it is between a man and a woman. And that man had better be your husband, or you may get killed.
R209 is a fly-over frau who needs to learn more about the world outside of Walmart, scrapbooking, and shopping at the mall.
- I am her iPhone. I have become her lifeline through quick texts, LOLs, Facebook and her twitter feeds. Through Facebook and Instagram, she documents her life with photos rather than being engaged and present with the people she is with. When she takes Jaden, Cayden, Colton and Kellan to the playground, she sits with the other moms (NOT with the nannies, who have their own section) as they each tap, tap, tap away on their phones. She doesn't realize it yet, but she has become socially awkward and attempts at real conversation is a challenge.
- I'm the irony in r410's post as he types post after post after post on datalounge.
- I am the alimony check she deposits every month from failed marriage #1. She was just too young but ex hubby will pay to the grave.
- I'm the fat, sad loser who takes it upon herself to flood the internet and FB and every other possible venue with 'thoughts of the day' and other tired twaddle that she thinks is inspirational and upbeat but that no one wants to read. I never have an original or interesting thought in my head. I dream about casseroles.
- I am the canned food that goes into the casseroles. Fresh veggies? Do you mean fresh from the freezer?
- R403 wins. Masturbating to House fanfic - bwahahah. But wouldn't it be Supernatural or Castle, or something? All the House fanfic has House and Wilson fucking each other.
- Actually r414 frozen veg can someimes retain even more nutrients than veg sitting in the produce bin at the story. Your smugness combined with lack of intellect is perfect for thw writers of these posts.
- I'm the Lifetime movie Michelle is watching in her Snuggie. It's the one where the husband is secretly gay and the wife has no clue. As Michelle eats her sixth brownie, she says to herself "That could never happen!"
I am the can of Campbell's Cream Of _______ soup that will be glopped into every casserole that r413 makes for Brad and the kids--Jayden and Mykala--in the crockpot. I was BOGO at Publix, where r413 also bought a Key Lime Pie.
- I'm the oh-so-yummy 1600 calorie Cobb Salad with fried chicken, buttermilk dressing, country ham, extra bacon and smoked Gouda that she orders because the 10% sprigs of lettuce scream "healthy"
- I'm the emotionally damaged Internet denizens who obsess over her life with an unhealthy mixture of condescension and identification.
- I eat shit.
- I'm the box of Franzia wine hidden in the back of the bedroom closet.
- Guess I hit a little close to home for r421?
- I am the glowing pride residing in Michelle as she watches her little ones "express their spirit" as they run around the upscale restaurant in between tables of patrons trying to have a nice and quiet dinner.
- I'm the ex-KGB officer who is now the President of Russia. I am restoring the worst of the old Soviet system and styling myself as a 21st century Hitler. While I work to have gay and lesbians rounded up and sent to concentration camps, I don't worry about the lazy American president taking action to stop my diabolical plans. Gays in his country see the villain as straight, white women who work in cubicles, keep scrapbooks and eat cupcakes! Silly gays! Bwa-Ha-Ha! Bwa-Ha-Ha!
- I'm the shopping cart, placed with stealthily unexamined passive aggression, in a diagonal position in the center of a busy aisle in a Trader Joe's.
- I'm Brad, ignoring my fat wench and devil spawn, as my mussy moistens as I flirt like crazy with our supercute waiter, whose perfect ass is showcased beautifully in those black polyesters. Life could've been so different, if only....
- The thing is, r416, that our Frau has probably never prepared a fresh veggie. As for smugness, your post screams of it. You probably don't know the first thing about fresh veggies, which is why yours are so awful, just like our frau's.
- R416 is right, R428. Fresh produce may or may not be healthier than frozen. My partner does the grocery shopping and when I go with him he has taught me a lot about what fruit and vegetables are okay to buy and what ones aren't an the fresh/frozen thing is not as clear cut as you might think.
For one thing there is the GMO issue, food that is genetically modified is not safe to consume despite the lies put froth by Monsanto. Another thing to avoid is imported produce. A lot of the produce in American stores-especially if it's out of season-is imported from MEXICO! This is as bad as buying food products from China, as farmers south of the border do not have to follow any of our safety standards regarding pesticide/herbicide use, sanitation and even separating water used in agriculture from sewer water.
I could go on, but my point (besides warning people about imported produce) is that some "Frau-type" skills and knowledge can save your life and health when you're in the grocery store and undoubtably in other situations. Think before you judge people! We were all fed by "Fraus" when we were growing up. Who did the shopping in our families? who made our snack when we got home from school? Who made a wholesome nutritious dinner each night? "Fraus," that's who! And thank G-d they were there to teach my partner how to grocery shop and me how to cook. This thread is so illogical!
- Just die, R429.
- Actually, I am serious R430. Maybe my caution about imported produce will be the one positive thing to come from this thread. Mexican produce is a big problem in our grocery stores. I bet many people are unaware of that. I was until my partner told me. Always buy American! Or, if possible, local!
- I am the can of Mace that will be used on a man wearing a turban because he has the nerve to tell Michelle that she is nholding up the line at Starbucks while she places her complicated coffee order, then retracts it, stands for a minute, then places it again.
- actually, r431, always buy Canadian. They've banned most of the pesticides and fertilizers we use in the US.
- Thanks R433, I didn't know that. I'll tell my partner. Canada is "ahead" of the U.S. in many ways. The E.U. has taken steps to effectively ban GMO's. We, in this country, would do well to emulate Europe and Canada when it comes to many issues.
- I'm the infamous fanny pack, stuffed to the hilt with SPF and granola bars for Caylynn and Danyell.
- Roger Octopus: Stick a tentacle up your testicle! Geeeez.
- That's not going to happen, R435. Corporations own the U.S. government & its oversight agencies like the FDA.
- Since there is no wit to be found on this thread, I am thankful to have new wisdom about Canadian produce. Thanks to the poster who did not waste his time typing that all women are fat and all men are gay,which really sums up the wit and wisdom of this thread.
- Can I ask you a question R436? Why would you post something so rude and hostile? Shouldn't we all support one another? As gay people we have real enemies. What's happening in Russia is a huge problem, but over here we have mega-churches that preach against us, the Republican Party that uses our very existence as a wedge issue and the majority of states in the union still don't recognize gay marriage.
All I have done is point out the ways that people like me are all too often dismissed by the gay community and how this pseudo-sophisticated, sexual free-for-all, affected, aggressively anti-social attitude is a liability.
Seriously, what is your problem? I am what I am. I live in the country, I have a same-sex partner but our relationship is still very traditional, i am openly gay, but a regular guy and a upstanding, respectable member of the community. So really, what is wrong with that? Why do you people have a problem with me?
- Would somebody more energetic than me please tell this troll ^^^^^^ why he's so awful. I've counted: racism, false morality, naivete, bigotry, chauvinism, judgmental attitudes, narcissism, passive-aggressiveness, and most importantly, stupidity.
- Roget Octopus has Asperger's; cannot understand humor.
- If you think Roger Octopus is a troll than you have never read through a thread on race,religion or politcs on DL or anywhere else on the Internet
- R441This is the least fuuny thread in recent DL history. I would not use it as a lithmus test for humor.
- Okay, Rodger, does this mean that it'll be Stovetop Stuffing with mixed frozen veggies, or will just using canned Campbell's soup poured over ramen with some house brand frozen veggies be okay?
See, Rodger, THAT is what our flyover frau is thinking when it comes to veggies. She isn't buying the organic raspberries, frozen spinach (Kody,or Grody or Kipper and Gipper won't eat THAT) or organic whole foods. She's thinking house brand blah.
And as for seafood, the FF I know would NEVER eat an octopus, or squid, but they are both quite good, esp. in an Asian restaurant. They don't eat there, either. They don't do stir-fried anything, veggies or not, frozen or not.
- Oh, Rodger honey, don't jump to conclusions. As for being fed when growing up, we ate the best fresh veggies and freshly prepared foods growing up, always. No frozen or boxed or canned ANYTHING for us, ever. I was raised by European grandparents. We were well fed from the start.
I just tasted my first Velveeta at age 51. IT. WAS. DISGUSTING. You people actually eat that shit? YUUUUCKK!!!
- I'm done with this thread. But, I'm going to ask everyone to take a minute to check out the thread titled: "PETITION: Ask NBC To Add Rachel Maddow As Human Rights Correspondent In Olympics Coverage" and please sign the petition.
It's not my thread and I don't know how to post a link, but the whole issue with Russia's horrifying anti-gay laws are something we should be able to come together on and speak out against.
- I'm Frau Octopus and I should have scraped that one out when I had the chance!
- Clearly, Roger Octopus is either Return of Umpy or Demon Spawn of Umpy.
- I'm the "I Love My Wife" bumper sticker on her husband's car.
- I'm the teacup sized dog that she brings to the local high school track, even though there is a large sign that says "no dogs allowed on track."
I'm the high school track that she supposedly "runs" on with her teacup sized dog.
I'm the high jump mat that she and her dog bounced on in the middle of the track.
I'm the 44 ounce soda she brought to the track.
- I'm the sweat that she works up, not from actually exercising but from feverishly whining about her life and talking shit about everyone she knows, during a session with her personal trainer
- I'm the photography business that she just started. She has no real photography skills and doesn't own a camera capable of taking professional quality photos, but she's decided to make a go of it anyways because she loves taking photos of weddings and newborns. No homosexual clients though, thanks.
- Roger, thank you for that last post of yours. Here's what we can do to the Russians: feed them Velveeta cheese, Spam and boxed macaroni & cheese. Let's not forget overcooked frozen mixed veggies,the generic brand, NOT the kind from the whole foods section, either. Either they change, or that is what they will be fed. Now that'll get them to behave!
- I am the car that she stops at an intersection in order to converse with a friend who is also crossing the intersection, not caring about the cars behind her. The variation of this is doing it in the entrance to the supermarket. The other variation is blocking a parking space by standing there talking to a friend in the other car, not caring that someone needs to park there.
- I am the can of Spam that Grody and Kipper will eat for lunch because they like it, and meat is meat, right?
- For those who think frauism is strictly a straight female thing, that is only a flyover thing, I present to you the following:
- It's Monday evening, 8:45 p.m. in the social hall at Temple B'nai Israel. The Monday night meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Bradley is getting his chip to mark his first year of sobriety. Shelly is thinking that maybe their marriage can be saved
- I'm Chicken Spaghetti! Only 1900 calories a serving.
- I am Brad's mental image as he tries his best to fuck Michele on sex night.
- I'm frau's secret dildo collection
- I'm the wearable duvet suit I watch Ellen in.
- R457 has a point there. Ms Bradley scrapbooks on the walls of her library!
- It's the third Thursday of the Monday when the Recreation Board meets. As the board's secretary-treasurer, our gal that announced that enough money was raised by by extort, I mean strong arm, I mean soliciting local businesses to underwrite the Fourth of July fireworks show
- [quote] They don't do stir-fried anything, veggies or not, frozen or not.
they DO do stir-fry..it's just done for so long all of the vegetables are a soggy mess.
- I'm the scene with Mark Ruffalo fucking Julianne Moore in The Kids are All Right.
Michelle secretly fingerbangs herself into several orgasms to me during the hour and a half a week that Brad has the kids out of the house.
- I'm the minutes from the Volunteer Town Park Committee Meeting. We have resolved to BAN smoking anywhere in town lest it drift over to our little ones' lungs.
We were going to ban adults unaccompanied by children in parks. However, after talking to my cousin Janice who coaches the womyn's youth sports league, she convinced us this was unnecessary.
- ...funny thing is, Brad jacks off to me too, wishing he was Julianne Moore.
- I talk incessantly about breast-feeding and peanut allergies. Oh, and about Family Shared Beds and carrying my spawn around in a sling. Pffffffffft.
- I am the skid marks in Brad's Hanes boxer briefs that Michelle constantly tries to bleach...
- I'm the empty wine bottles that are secretly loaded into the minivan and disposed of in public trash cans around town.
- I'm the pussy-play engaged in by neighbor fraud, Ellen and Jen
- Who are Brad and Michelle?
- I am the leopard print skirt that is too short. It looks ridiculous on me, esp. with my fat thighs.
I am the leopard print top, that I wear with black slacks that are too tight. They make my butt look even bigger than it is, and it is already to big. I do nothing to hide the back-titties. I cannot hide the top of her chest now permanently freckled and prematurely aging from too much sun, either.
I am the chunky acrylic beaded necklace that is worn when either the leopard print top or skirt is worn.
- I am the endless conversation about which chain pizza place is the best. Sadly, she and her spoiled spawn neglect the local mom and pop pizzeria, the one owned by genuine Italians that makes the best pizza you will ever taste, at least locally.
I am her taste buds, that wish she would go to the local pizzeria, at least once. Can't the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet wait until next month? Please?
- I'm the 10-year-old dinner plates that have never had a piece of fish on them.
- I'm the cheap, tacky paste jewelry she makes in her spare time. She displays and attempts to sell me at office jewelry parties in the conference room, wasting valuable work time. The office fraus with questionable taste at best fawn all over me and tell me how beautiful I am, but the truth is that I'm ugly and shitty and should never be seen in public.
- I'm the mother of the groom dress. Why, no, I'm more of an eggshell, don't you think? Certainly not white and definitely not ivory. Why do you ask?
- I'm the diet coke she drinks to wash down her double order of fried mac and cheese from the Cheesecake Factory.
- I am the flyover who answers the phone with "Jesus loves you, praise the Lord, Hello."
I'm not kidding, this really happens. This is said before the hello.
- I'm the bedsheets that Michelle threw out after she trusted a post-Cheesecake Factory fart.
Never, ever trust a fart.
- I'm the sassy kitten heels she wears, thinking they make her cankles and piano legs look willowy. Fail.
- Hi there! I'm Cuddles, the family cat that Michelle got as a kitten from her pal who
works at the No Kill Shelter. I wasn't socialized properly because her foster mom friend had a nervous breakdown when her husband left her for a woman who has hobbies and interests besides cats, FB and Pinterest. I've reverted back to my feral ways after the kids' loud shrieks freaked me the fuck out. I can be seen, on occasion, darting between under the dining room table or under the twin bed in the guest room when the kids are at baton twirling and soccer meets. I only come out of hiding for Brad and some Carl Buddig paper thin turkey breast. I do my business on the carpet just east of the litter box filled with cheap unscoopable, urine soaked Tidy Cat, which makes my paws stink so.
- I'm the disgusting fag that obsesses over my fabulous life and husband.
- You're a liar r480.
- I am my complete inability to think in abstract terms.
- I'm Michelle's friend at R483. Michelle follows by viewable by anyone FB page and Pinterest. Follow me as I try to figure out why people abandon me with nearly 3K pins admonishing my cheating and lying husband who dumped me and my Jennifer Aniston sized chin for a woman I'm better looking than in another state. Follow me as I reveal my shallow attention whoring ways, cat-hoarding borderline personality disorder and frozen off HPV genital warts and herpes I have for life from screwing skanky cassanova-types bare back that left me unable to bear children because I ignored the froth and smell symptoms coming from my twat for years. I used pantyliners instead of seeing a doctor and never douched. You could smell me coming if I was downwind and wearing sweatpants or shorts.
Feel free to follow me on my journey as I slowly realized how fucked I really am because I'm catching on that I'm not the knockout my parents claimed I was, am uneducated and dull. I love my cats! Watch me turn to religion (Jesus saves!) as the psychiatrists and their meds aren't working anymore after my last hospital stay. Watch my crippling depression allow me to focus only on myself as I dupe my online friends into thinking I'm a good person and garner sympathy from them. They have no idea that if the tables were turned, I wouldn't be there for them. See my low income,unskilled, dopey alcoholic husband move on with his life after my mother stopped footing all of our bills and expenses. Follow me up until the moment I melt down when I slowly realize anybody I would want would never want me . Follow my tragic existence and take bets on my mental hospital admission timeline. I don't care just pay attention to meeeeeee! Please click on the "follow" button on my Pinterest before you go on with your life that I envy.
- I am the pile of steaming shit that R484 looks forward to eating every day.
- R484 = The fat ugly cunt that trolls gay websites because she's secretly enthralled by homosexuality.
- r484 follow us because we live the life she can never, ever have. Go back to Pinterest,FB and the mall food court.
She gets her jollies by derailing threads. Continue on without her.
- Ooh, the faggots can't take their own medicine.
- R491 = Protector of the fraus
- F&F the troll and begone with it!
- Don't just F & F anyone or anything. Save it for when it is appropriate. The really offensive stuff or your flag just gets ignored.
I'm loving the frau response, also. That's what makes this thread so great. It got me punch drunk and provided a welcomed relief.
Some of the frau Michelle post are universal to all so I relate to many but many were so spot on I know it is written by a woman and not a bitter kween. It's all in good fun yet people were berating such thread when the chance that it's mostly cleverly written by a non-frau women is high. Apologizing to any women who read this. It's probably flying blind aspie types. They feel a duty to correct the wrongs of everyone, including perfect strangers. Petty henpeckers. Keep a lid on that shit.
- I'm the pit that developed in her stomach after she noted an odd, knowing exchange of glances between her husband and a male stranger when they were walking the mall last Saturday afternoon. I am still there and have only strengthened as she has slowly begun to make sense of everything that never quite made sense.
- Brad, you in danger gurl @ R495.
- And then somebody handed Brad.....
- Wow, -487-, that is terribly, terribly sad. Vivid and vomitrocious.
- I'm the 10k worth of fine wedding china sitting in boxes in the attic. She serves chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese on paper plates in the kitchen, it's easier that way with 4 kids.
- R487 is very, very sad.
But I swear, I lived next door to that frau for a year.
- I'm her husband, shopping for doggy sunglasses.
- I'm her 15-year-old daughter Cassidee's well-hung bf who's tearing Cassidee's pussy to shreds...while she's at a parent/school board meeting demanding that a classic novel containing sexual situations be banned because it is not appropriate for her daughter to be exposed to such graphic depictions of sex.
- I am the drawer that holds a tired sachet from her wedding, hidden among 25 pairs of years old granny panties with stained crotches.
- I'm a dusty room full of silly, neglected craft supplies.
- I'm the sum total number of loads she took down her mouth and in her ass while she was single, in order to remain a virgin on her wedding night.
- I'm the vibrating plastic disk from Panera Bread that will go off with red lights when her 1/2 soup-1/2 sandwich combination plate is ready.
Right now she's off getting a refill on Diet Coke.
- Panera Bread doesn't have those things, silly. And don't hate on Panera!
- I am the baggy, elastic waist black slacks she wears to work because they match so many of her patterned polyester tops.
- I'm the endlessly reposted Facebook item about "The True Worth of a Stay-At-Home Mom!!!!", which adds up the salaries for job titles like chef, chauffeur and nurse and then concludes that moms should be earning $195,000 a year for raising the kids they whelped.
- I'm the collection of pens, notepads, post-it pads, copy paper, scissors, staplers, scotch tape dispensers, binder clips, light bulbs, computer wires and accessories, etc. that she "borrowed" and brought home from the office over the years and which were never returned.
- I'm her One Million Moms membership.
- I. Am. Fat. And Sad. On hot summer nights, I like to lie around in a terrycloth jumpsuit and eat a big tub of leftover, congealed lasagna and . . . fart. Pooooo-oooo-t. Poot-poot-poot.
- I'm the Promise Keepers bumper sticker on her husband Carl's truck (the one she mostly paid for).
- Panera does have those blinking devices.
- I'm the stick-figure family bumper sticker right above the Jesus fish symbol bumper sticker.
- I'm a block of cream cheese, a pound of ground chuck and a packet of El Paso taco seasoning. We're going ethnic tonight, taco casserole for everyone....OLE!
- I'm her homophobia-laced comments when her nine-year-old son asks her why those two men are holding hands.
Jayden, get away from them. GET OVER HERE AND GET AWAY FROM THEM!
- I'm the thousands of dollars of Girl Scout Cookie earnings that were embezzled by Michelle.
- I am the canned or boxed or frozen Asian entrée that is served when they really want to go ethnic. And there'll be chocolate syrup cake for dessert.
- I'm the 16 bagelwich orders she places for her and the girls at the deli in the lobby of her office building each morning at 9:15. She could care less about the growing line of angry customers behind her as she waits for her order to be filled.
Call the order, in you fat cubesowfrau!
- I'm the tickets to the Apple Festival this weekend!
- I'm the Lean Cuisine in the break room microwave, that is heated up every day. The stench will linger for hours.
- I am the "Please" and "Thank you" that she declares loudly, so that anyone within 20 feet will know she is polite.
- I am her, ahem, darling little angels that, in her eyes, never, ever do ANYTHING wrong, ever. Oh, not MY children.
- I am the moisture seeping through the too-tight size XXL Fruit of the Loom panties as she reads 50 Shades of Grey.
- I am the biceps workout her husband gets from lifting all those layers of fat to get to her juicy.
- I'm the add-on toppings on her Pinkberry Greek.
- There are no Pinkberrys in flyover country.
- r528, I think at this point in the thread "flyflover" has become become more of a metaphor and cannot be taken literally.
- I am the ankle bracelet Mom and daughters Heather, Gretchen, Sierra and Debbie wear to the mall.
- I did indeed find Greek yogurt in flyover country, but I couldn't find Ricotta cheese or Brie cheese in the small Midwest town in which I stayed.
- R530 with those names, you must be a frau mom from the 1980s.
Today it would be Ciera, Kiera and Indea. Or Bronwyn, Brynlyn, and Carlyn.
- I wait all year for East Side Night at the Iowa State Fair!
- I am the highlight of her trip to New York City.
Getting on camera outside of the Today Show
- No, I'M the highlight of her trip to New York City.
- I'm the spare cell phone Brad had for his old job.
When she's bored, Michelle plunges me into her cavernous pussy and calls me until she reaches orgasm.
Brad used me to arrange hookups with his old foreman, Dirk.
- I'm the disgust and outrage directed towards New Yorkers who have the option the buy $75 ice cubes from Dean and Deluca.
- I'm a chicken breast that will be put atop overcooked pasta and doused in the Campbell Cream of Mushroom sauce with some grated parmesan on top. After that, the recipe will be shared on iVillage as the "best Italian pasta recipe ever!"
- I'm the tickets she got to see Train, The Script, and Gavin DeGraw with her frau friends and their husbands last night in Vancouver, Washington. I'm the cement under their feet that took a beating when they decided to stand up and dance to The Bee Gee's Stayin Alive during intermission. I'm the too tight jeans they all wore last night.
Biggest collection of fraus I have EVER seen last night in one place. Unbelievable.
- I'm the gay brother she hates because I got all the good looks. Ha ha.
- I'm the Diet Coke she orders with her two double cheeseburgers, mega large order of cheese fries, and milkshake at her local burger joint.
She just can't understand why she can't lose any weight....
- R540, oh yes I do!
- I'm the FREQUENT AND FRANTIC posts on FB about Miley Cyrus's Tongue and Twerk performance. MY 9 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER, OLIVIA WAS A HUGE HANNAH MONTANA FAN! I'M NOT A PRUDE BUT COME ON!!!!! SHE IDOLIZED HER!!!! AND NOW THIS???!!?!?!?!?!? NOW EVERY PHOTO I HAVE OF OLIVIA IS HER STICKING HER TONGUE OUT FOR THE CAMERA!!! OH IT'S A BATTLE TO KEEP HER TONGUE IN HER MOUTH!!!
- I'm the Facebooked anticipation for the annual unveiling of Starbucks' Pumpkin-Spiced Latte.