I'm the Zumba class she teaches in the rec room at her church on Saturday mornings.
Let's be a Flyover Frau's busy week!
|by Anonymous||reply 558||05/06/2015|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 3||07/25/2013|
I'm that cup of Greek yoghurt that all her iVillage friends are talking about.
|by Anonymous||reply 4||07/25/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 5||07/25/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 6||07/25/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 8||07/25/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 9||07/25/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 10||07/25/2013|
I'm the daily inspirational quote calendar on the kitchen counter with all of the appointments on it!
|by Anonymous||reply 11||07/25/2013|
I'm the popcorn being microwaved in the break room, and the stench will linger for two hours.
|by Anonymous||reply 12||07/25/2013|
I am the worn-out hairbrushes, still being used to produce the teased-out hairstyle she looked so great in in 1985.
|by Anonymous||reply 13||07/25/2013|
I'm the gun rack in Buddy's Silverado.
|by Anonymous||reply 14||07/25/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 15||07/25/2013|
I'm the dildo secretly lusted after
|by Anonymous||reply 16||07/25/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 17||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 18||07/26/2013|
I'm the elastic waist jeans she wears with a scooped-necked flowy top she got at Lane Bryant.
|by Anonymous||reply 19||07/26/2013|
I'm the lime jello mold containing suspended bananas.
|by Anonymous||reply 20||07/26/2013|
I'm the scrunchy she uses to pull up a pony with her dyed blond hair with dark roots.
|by Anonymous||reply 21||07/26/2013|
I'm the vicious gossip that flows from her mouth when she blasts other fraus to her besty.
|by Anonymous||reply 22||07/26/2013|
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?"
|by Anonymous||reply 24||07/26/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 25||07/26/2013|
I'm the long fake fingernails painted red she uses to click out text messages to everyone she knows all day long.
|by Anonymous||reply 26||07/26/2013|
I'm the gossiping with co-workers as she goes desk-to-desk all day long, avoiding any actual work.
|by Anonymous||reply 27||07/26/2013|
I am the lies she tells herself when she's calling Halleigh's doctor to get an early refill on the ADHD meds
|by Anonymous||reply 28||07/26/2013|
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.]
|by Anonymous||reply 31||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 33||07/26/2013|
This thread is a riot and totally spot on, esp. r27 LOL. There are so many women in my workplace like this.
|by Anonymous||reply 34||07/26/2013|
I'm the sex toys parties
|by Anonymous||reply 35||07/26/2013|
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! "
|by Anonymous||reply 36||07/26/2013|
I'm the granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and jack/jill sinks in the master bathroom that she just had to have.
|by Anonymous||reply 37||07/26/2013|
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...
|by Anonymous||reply 39||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 40||07/26/2013|
I'm the men's room in that rest area along the highway where all the r40s suck anonymous cock.
|by Anonymous||reply 41||07/26/2013|
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. Too cute.
You know it's true. Straight chick here who saw these moms all over my son's school.
|by Anonymous||reply 44||07/26/2013|
I'm the ignorant cunts posting their fury at this thread. They should get the hell back to iVillage and off of DL.
|by Anonymous||reply 45||07/26/2013|
I'm the frau-to-be, sitting in rush hour traffic, late for my appointment at the fertility clinic.
And unaware of the irony.
|by Anonymous||reply 46||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 47||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 48||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 49||07/26/2013|
I'm the lonely can of Diet 7-Up, sitting on the desk in the cubicle, waiting hopelessly to be consumed.
|by Anonymous||reply 50||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 51||07/26/2013|
I'm a single, childfree by choice, straight chick/hag, marvelling at the wit here! I am NOT being sarcastic - more please!!
|by Anonymous||reply 52||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 53||07/26/2013|
I'm the officious, entitled Mom who flounces around, all self-important, wherever I go.
|by Anonymous||reply 54||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 55||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 56||07/26/2013|
I'm the earrings
|by Anonymous||reply 57||07/26/2013|
I'm the caftans
|by Anonymous||reply 58||07/26/2013|
Caftan? What's a caftan? Does it go with the...what's it called? Brie?
|by Anonymous||reply 59||07/26/2013|
|by Anonymous||reply 60||07/26/2013|
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!!!"
|by Anonymous||reply 61||07/26/2013|
I am the time taken out of a very busy day to write R7.
|by Anonymous||reply 62||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 63||07/26/2013|
"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.
|by Anonymous||reply 64||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 65||07/26/2013|
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."
|by Anonymous||reply 66||07/26/2013|
" 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.
|by Anonymous||reply 67||07/26/2013|
I'm the bible infested with yellow highlighter ink.
|by Anonymous||reply 68||07/26/2013|
I'm this haircut:
|by Anonymous||reply 69||07/26/2013|
I am the frosted hair.
|by Anonymous||reply 70||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 71||07/26/2013|
OMG R69! What is that haircut? The back looks like a porcupine.
|by Anonymous||reply 72||07/26/2013|
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."
|by Anonymous||reply 73||07/26/2013|
I'm the framed print in the den.
|by Anonymous||reply 74||07/26/2013|
I am the death of New York.
|by Anonymous||reply 75||07/26/2013|
[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!
|by Anonymous||reply 76||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 77||07/26/2013|
It looks like one of those haircuts fat matrons get to try and look younger and hipper.
|by Anonymous||reply 78||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 79||07/26/2013|
I am the dog-eared copy of 50 Shades of Grey in the nightstand drawer, next to the dual-speed "therapeutic massager."
|by Anonymous||reply 80||07/26/2013|
I'm the cracked skanked out suburban sidewalk on which to PrancerCize!
|by Anonymous||reply 81||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 83||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 85||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 86||07/26/2013|
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."
|by Anonymous||reply 87||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 88||07/26/2013|
Thread is destined to become a classic. Total riot.
|by Anonymous||reply 89||07/26/2013|
I am the "plus-sized professional" separates purchased at Lane Bryant at the mall, which is where all of my work clothes come from.
|by Anonymous||reply 90||07/26/2013|
I'm the Cathy comic strip. I'm her patron saint.
|by Anonymous||reply 91||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 92||07/26/2013|
We're Reese Witherspoon and Sandra Bullock. You made us very, very rich.
|by Anonymous||reply 94||07/26/2013|
I am 'Precious Moments' and Barry Manilow.
|by Anonymous||reply 95||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 96||07/26/2013|
I'm the next fad diet. I will succeed for a few weeks, and then I will fail epically.
|by Anonymous||reply 97||07/26/2013|
I'm the box of merlot, because she's a 'wine drinker'.
|by Anonymous||reply 98||07/26/2013|
R82 = The Flyover Frau this thread is about.
|by Anonymous||reply 99||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 100||07/26/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 101||07/26/2013|
I'm the scissors used for extreme couponing. It's hard work feeding a family of six!
|by Anonymous||reply 102||07/26/2013|
I know, right?
|by Anonymous||reply 103||07/26/2013|
Thanks R25, I HATE that shit.
|by Anonymous||reply 104||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 105||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 106||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 108||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 109||07/26/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 110||07/26/2013|
I'm the tacky, overpriced Las Vegas show that WOWS the fraus from near and far.
|by Anonymous||reply 111||07/26/2013|
I'm the undulating frontbutt, held in place by size-42 poly-cotton blend black "work pants" from Avenue, which act as retaining wall.
|by Anonymous||reply 112||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 113||07/26/2013|
R106, It's Coldwater Creek.
|by Anonymous||reply 114||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 115||07/26/2013|
In which state should our FF reside? I say Ohio, Indiana or maybe Michigan.
|by Anonymous||reply 116||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 117||07/26/2013|
I'm a strawberry. And I'm the decorative theme in the kitchen and the nook!
|by Anonymous||reply 118||07/26/2013|
I'm the ice cubes in her glass of chardonnay.
|by Anonymous||reply 119||07/26/2013|
I'm the Diet Coke with her Double Whopper.
|by Anonymous||reply 120||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 121||07/26/2013|
I am the elastic in the waistband of the pants, now stretched out and doubled over by belly fat -I mean bloating.
|by Anonymous||reply 122||07/26/2013|
I'm the "50 Shades of Gray" book in the nightstand drawer and I'm considered "naughty". *rolling eyes*
|by Anonymous||reply 124||07/26/2013|
I'm the Sarah Palin/John McCain bumper sticker.
|by Anonymous||reply 125||07/26/2013|
I'm the "Will & Grace" DVD box set she keeps prominently displayed to show everyone how much she loves gay people.
|by Anonymous||reply 126||07/26/2013|
It's July, so I'm her white capri pants. You can see through me, my panties aren't sexy.
|by Anonymous||reply 127||07/26/2013|
I'm Facebook, on which she feels every shit little Amber and Ariel makes needs to be posted.
|by Anonymous||reply 128||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 129||07/26/2013|
I'm the tickets to the Carrie Underwood concert, one of her favorite American Idol winners.
|by Anonymous||reply 130||07/26/2013|
I'm the pointless Facebook argument that she starts but can't finish, although she feels compelled to have the last word.
|by Anonymous||reply 131||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 132||07/26/2013|
I'm her Pintrest page on which she pins her favorite recipes and home decor tips.
|by Anonymous||reply 133||07/26/2013|
I'm the tasteful but edgy stud in her nose, it looks great with her porcupine haircut.
|by Anonymous||reply 134||07/26/2013|
I'm her hubbie's secret cockring.
|by Anonymous||reply 135||07/26/2013|
I'm the tube of KY jelly for anal night with the husband.
|by Anonymous||reply 136||07/26/2013|
I'm the anal beads her husband hides
|by Anonymous||reply 137||07/26/2013|
I'm the Eclipse gum her husband chews to mask his cock-scented breath.
|by Anonymous||reply 138||07/26/2013|
I'm the Spanx Oprah told her to buy.
|by Anonymous||reply 139||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 141||07/26/2013|
I'm the Fibromyalgia medication that has made billions in free money for big pharma.
|by Anonymous||reply 142||07/26/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 143||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 144||07/27/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 145||07/27/2013|
I'm the croutons, bacon bits, deep-fried chicken strips, cheddar cheese shreds, and Russian dressing she mixes into her health salad.
|by Anonymous||reply 146||07/27/2013|
I'm her husband's cock shot in the m2m casual encounters section of Craig's List.
|by Anonymous||reply 147||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 148||07/27/2013|
I'm r30 otherwise known as the bitter bitch from across the street.
|by Anonymous||reply 149||07/27/2013|
I'm the many women her husband is ACUALLY cheating on her with, rather than the DL fantasy that he cheats with men.
|by Anonymous||reply 150||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 151||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 152||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 155||07/27/2013|
R157 = Dumb dyke
|by Anonymous||reply 159||07/27/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 161||07/27/2013|
I'm the itinerary for her exciting weekend in NYC with the girls, with "Magnolia Bakery" listed as #1.
|by Anonymous||reply 162||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 163||07/27/2013|
I'm the Pandora bracelet that Michelle jangles at every gathering, hoping that someone will ask her about all of her charms.
|by Anonymous||reply 164||07/27/2013|
I'm the sofa-sized Thomas Kincaid she got for a song from that sad girl at the Flea Market.
|by Anonymous||reply 165||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 166||07/27/2013|
I'm the remnants of an American Girl Dollafter Carol and Marcia, the meanest girls in Grand Rapids, each grabbed an arm and pulled.
|by Anonymous||reply 167||07/27/2013|
I am the j'adorbes family set of beach sandals pasted on the far back window of my Excursion.
|by Anonymous||reply 168||07/27/2013|
I'm the clothing that hides ALL those "icky places".
|by Anonymous||reply 169||07/27/2013|
I'm the question "can you tell me where Central Perk is?" that she asks people on the street when she visits New York.
|by Anonymous||reply 170||07/27/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 171||07/27/2013|
r121 is way too fab to be a frau.
|by Anonymous||reply 172||07/27/2013|
I'm the chenille pillows from Home Goods on the lazi-boy in front of the 120-inch TV screen in the bonus room.
|by Anonymous||reply 173||07/27/2013|
R121 is not a Frau. She's a lot more fun, she's more of a fag-hag.
|by Anonymous||reply 174||07/27/2013|
Come on now r150, step back girl, you know you're right on the nerve
|by Anonymous||reply 175||07/27/2013|
I'm her belief that her husband subscribes to "Men's Health" magazine for fitness tips.
|by Anonymous||reply 176||07/27/2013|
I'm the sneering, pinched face as a young hottie, minding her own business, walks by my husband.
|by Anonymous||reply 177||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 178||07/27/2013|
I'm Jenny McCarthy prospecting for Mommy Warriors to join my anti science crusade. Once my stint on The View starts resistance is futile.
|by Anonymous||reply 179||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 180||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 181||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 182||07/27/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 183||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 184||07/27/2013|
r170, she also thinks that New York apartments are really that spacious and doesn't understand why they are so expensive.
|by Anonymous||reply 185||07/27/2013|
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....
|by Anonymous||reply 186||07/27/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 187||07/27/2013|
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."
|by Anonymous||reply 188||07/27/2013|
I love how most of these feature a cheating husband, usually with secret same-sex encounters.
|by Anonymous||reply 189||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 190||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 191||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 192||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 193||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 194||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 195||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 196||07/27/2013|
I'm the mobility scooter.
|by Anonymous||reply 197||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 198||07/27/2013|
I'm Brad. Mister Dorian is giving me a personal one-on-one lesson in baton twirling, if you know what I mean....
|by Anonymous||reply 199||07/27/2013|
I am the mysteriously empty browser history of the home computer.
|by Anonymous||reply 200||07/27/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 201||07/27/2013|
I'm Brad. I'm getting my cock sucked at lunch by my assistant, a woman.
|by Anonymous||reply 202||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 203||07/27/2013|
I'm Brad. I'm fat. My sex drive is nil. I'd rather have a six pack and a bag of Cheetos.
|by Anonymous||reply 204||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 205||07/27/2013|
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".
|by Anonymous||reply 206||07/27/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 207||07/27/2013|
I'm the cup of Activia
|by Anonymous||reply 208||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 210||07/27/2013|
I'm Brad's craig's list ad.
|by Anonymous||reply 212||07/27/2013|
I am the HIV Brad is spreading to his wife, AND his trick.
|by Anonymous||reply 213||07/27/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 214||07/28/2013|
I'm the orgasm that Michelle's never had. Not even once.
|by Anonymous||reply 215||07/28/2013|
I'm the family stickers on the back glass of the minivan.
|by Anonymous||reply 216||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 217||07/28/2013|
I'm her insistence that Hugh Jackman is a happily married straight man.
|by Anonymous||reply 218||07/28/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 219||07/28/2013|
The nightly blow jobs her teenage daughter performs on the football jocks behind the bleachers.
|by Anonymous||reply 220||07/28/2013|
I'm the bottle of vodka in the center console.
|by Anonymous||reply 221||07/28/2013|
I'm the nylons drapped over the shower rod.
|by Anonymous||reply 222||07/28/2013|
I'm the PTO meeting she's rushing to get to after picking Madasyn up from soccer practice.
|by Anonymous||reply 223||07/28/2013|
I'm the shock expressed at hearing Kidd Kraddick died.
|by Anonymous||reply 224||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 225||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 226||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 227||07/28/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 228||07/28/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 229||07/28/2013|
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....
|by Anonymous||reply 230||07/28/2013|
R229 is very sad. I would be too if my asshole was so clenched I hadn't taken a shit in four years!
|by Anonymous||reply 231||07/28/2013|
I am passive aggression, which runs through my veins where blood used to be.
|by Anonymous||reply 232||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 234||07/28/2013|
"I'm a [italic]housewife[/italic]. And I long to have a great American man like George W. Bush in the White House again."
|by Anonymous||reply 235||07/28/2013|
I'm the interfaith prayer vigil she organized in the high school auditorium after the Boston marathon bombing that occurred 5,000 miles away.
|by Anonymous||reply 236||07/28/2013|
I'm her cluelessness at Brad never having any workout clothes for the wash despite hitting the gym seven days a week.
|by Anonymous||reply 237||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 238||07/28/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 239||07/28/2013|
r187, that is too spot on.
|by Anonymous||reply 240||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 241||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 242||07/29/2013|
I'm the bedroom door her son Maxwell keeps locked when he's in there "studying" with his best friend Chad.
|by Anonymous||reply 243||07/29/2013|
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?"
|by Anonymous||reply 244||07/29/2013|
I'm her Sketchers Shape-Ups that are going to *totally* transform her body in time for summer swimsuit season at the lake!
|by Anonymous||reply 245||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 246||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 247||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 248||07/29/2013|
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".
|by Anonymous||reply 249||07/29/2013|
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....
|by Anonymous||reply 250||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 251||07/29/2013|
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."
|by Anonymous||reply 252||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 253||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 254||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 255||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 256||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 257||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 258||07/29/2013|
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".
|by Anonymous||reply 259||07/29/2013|
I'm Michelle's wedding photo that is 8x10 and proudly displayed in her cube. I was taken in 1989.
|by Anonymous||reply 260||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 261||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 262||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 263||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 264||07/29/2013|
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"
|by Anonymous||reply 265||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 266||07/29/2013|
I am a stretched-out pair of Spanx.
|by Anonymous||reply 267||07/29/2013|
[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.
|by Anonymous||reply 268||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 271||07/29/2013|
I'm the concern troll.
|by Anonymous||reply 272||07/29/2013|
R270, 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.
|by Anonymous||reply 273||07/29/2013|
Fraus are not all women, they are a very specific sub-set.
|by Anonymous||reply 275||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 276||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 278||07/29/2013|
[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?
|by Anonymous||reply 281||07/29/2013|
Fraus tend to be very religious and as a result homophobic.
|by Anonymous||reply 282||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 286||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 288||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 289||07/29/2013|
I'm the jean purse.
|by Anonymous||reply 290||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 291||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 293||07/29/2013|
|by Anonymous||reply 294||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 296||07/29/2013|
I'm the compassion she feels for lonely gay men.
|by Anonymous||reply 297||07/29/2013|
I'm the HBO subscription whose interface frustrates the HELL out of her.
She just wants to watch Samantha and the girls.
|by Anonymous||reply 298||07/29/2013|
I'm the buzzing cell phone that Anthony Weiner just texted another picture of his weiner to.
|by Anonymous||reply 299||07/29/2013|
I'm the sexy picture of a man in a tuxedo holding a red rose!
|by Anonymous||reply 300||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 301||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 302||07/29/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 303||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 304||07/29/2013|
|by Anonymous||reply 305||07/29/2013|
I'm the DVR that is totally full of General Hospital, Dancing With The Stars, and American Idol episodes.
|by Anonymous||reply 306||07/29/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 308||07/30/2013|
I'm One Million Moms, and I'm going to make sure all the ladies hear about this awful website!
|by Anonymous||reply 309||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 313||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 318||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 319||07/30/2013|
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."
|by Anonymous||reply 320||07/30/2013|
[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.
|by Anonymous||reply 321||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 322||07/30/2013|
This is a typical day in Frau Land.
|by Anonymous||reply 323||07/30/2013|
I'm the empty bottle of adderall that she finished 10 days too early even as she still keeps getting fatter.
|by Anonymous||reply 324||07/30/2013|
Some of the post were in fun, but some of them were creepy and pathetic.
|by Anonymous||reply 325||07/30/2013|
[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.
|by Anonymous||reply 326||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 328||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 329||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 330||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 333||07/30/2013|
r332, you don't know what she's saying behind your back.
|by Anonymous||reply 334||07/30/2013|
That's right r334! All women hate gay men, especially the nice ones! Let's start a girls have cooties club!
|by Anonymous||reply 335||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 336||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 337||07/30/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 338||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 339||07/30/2013|
I'm the shoebox in the attic filled with her cassettes from high school. Amy Grant, Tiffany, Stryper (rock on!), Debbie Gibson, Glass Tiger...
|by Anonymous||reply 340||07/30/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 341||07/30/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 344||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 345||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 346||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 347||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 348||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 349||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 350||07/31/2013|
I'm the agonizing decision as to spell Jacob with a "C" or a "K".
|by Anonymous||reply 351||07/31/2013|
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?"
|by Anonymous||reply 352||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 353||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 355||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 357||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 358||07/31/2013|
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!!!!!!
|by Anonymous||reply 359||07/31/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 360||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 361||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 362||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 363||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 364||07/31/2013|
Won't some fraus PLEASE SHIT IN MY MOUTH????!!!!!!??????
|by Anonymous||reply 365||07/31/2013|
I'm the Beanie Baby collection.
|by Anonymous||reply 366||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 367||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 368||07/31/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 369||07/31/2013|
[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.
|by Anonymous||reply 370||07/31/2013|
[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!
|by Anonymous||reply 371||07/31/2013|
Roger Octopus needs to get banned. Soon.
|by Anonymous||reply 372||07/31/2013|
I agree: R121 is my kind of gal.
|by Anonymous||reply 374||07/31/2013|
J'adore you, Mr. Roger Cephalopod.
|by Anonymous||reply 375||07/31/2013|
Thank you Roger.
|by Anonymous||reply 376||07/31/2013|
I'm the television showing "Dancing with the Stars" which will be talked about by cube fraus all day.
|by Anonymous||reply 377||07/31/2013|
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!"
|by Anonymous||reply 378||08/01/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 379||08/01/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 380||08/01/2013|
[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.
|by Anonymous||reply 381||08/01/2013|
I'm the bedazzled jeans worn too tight.
I am the multi-pierced ears.
|by Anonymous||reply 383||08/01/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 384||08/01/2013|
R129 made me sad.
|by Anonymous||reply 385||08/01/2013|
I'm the Other and I like this thread:)
|by Anonymous||reply 386||08/01/2013|
I'm the figurative propeller.
|by Anonymous||reply 388||08/01/2013|
Is the Sumerian Housewives thread archived anywhere? I remember reading if when it was first started but I'm getting all nostalgic.
|by Anonymous||reply 389||08/01/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 390||08/01/2013|
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......
|by Anonymous||reply 391||08/02/2013|
Can someone provide a link to the Datalounge is a bar thread?
|by Anonymous||reply 392||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 393||08/02/2013|
I'm the fat Frau at r7 who doesn't like the truth.
|by Anonymous||reply 394||08/02/2013|
I'm loving the Brad and Michelle posts.
|by Anonymous||reply 395||08/02/2013|
I'm a pair of PajamaJeans much loved by r30
|by Anonymous||reply 396||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 397||08/02/2013|
I'm the realisation at r82 that my husband sucks cock and loves it.
|by Anonymous||reply 398||08/02/2013|
I blame peanuts for everything.
|by Anonymous||reply 399||08/02/2013|
I'm Brad, Michelle's husband at r209. If I squint hard enough it can pass as an anus, which makes having sex bearable.
|by Anonymous||reply 400||08/02/2013|
Is Brad gay?
|by Anonymous||reply 401||08/02/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 402||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 403||08/02/2013|
I'm career day at Scottlyn's 5th grade class where she extols the virtues of her 24/7 "job" as a housewife.
|by Anonymous||reply 404||08/02/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 405||08/02/2013|
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".
|by Anonymous||reply 406||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 407||08/02/2013|
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.'
|by Anonymous||reply 408||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 409||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 410||08/02/2013|
I'm the irony in r410's post as he types post after post after post on datalounge.
|by Anonymous||reply 411||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 412||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 413||08/02/2013|
I am the canned food that goes into the casseroles. Fresh veggies? Do you mean fresh from the freezer?
|by Anonymous||reply 414||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 415||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 416||08/02/2013|
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!"
|by Anonymous||reply 417||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 418||08/02/2013|
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"
|by Anonymous||reply 419||08/02/2013|
I'm the emotionally damaged Internet denizens who obsess over her life with an unhealthy mixture of condescension and identification.
|by Anonymous||reply 420||08/02/2013|
I eat shit.
|by Anonymous||reply 421||08/02/2013|
I'm the box of Franzia wine hidden in the back of the bedroom closet.
|by Anonymous||reply 422||08/02/2013|
Guess I hit a little close to home for r421?
|by Anonymous||reply 423||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 424||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 426||08/02/2013|
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....
|by Anonymous||reply 427||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 428||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 432||08/02/2013|
actually, r431, always buy Canadian. They've banned most of the pesticides and fertilizers we use in the US.
|by Anonymous||reply 433||08/02/2013|
I'm the infamous fanny pack, stuffed to the hilt with SPF and granola bars for Caylynn and Danyell.
|by Anonymous||reply 435||08/02/2013|
Roger Octopus: Stick a tentacle up your testicle! Geeeez.
|by Anonymous||reply 436||08/02/2013|
That's not going to happen, R435. Corporations own the U.S. government & its oversight agencies like the FDA.
|by Anonymous||reply 437||08/02/2013|
Roget Octopus has Asperger's; cannot understand humor.
|by Anonymous||reply 441||08/02/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 442||08/02/2013|
|by Anonymous||reply 443||08/02/2013|
R441This is the least fuuny thread in recent DL history. I would not use it as a lithmus test for humor.
|by Anonymous||reply 444||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 445||08/02/2013|
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!!!
|by Anonymous||reply 446||08/02/2013|
I'm Frau Octopus and I should have scraped that one out when I had the chance!
|by Anonymous||reply 448||08/02/2013|
Clearly, Roger Octopus is either Return of Umpy or Demon Spawn of Umpy.
|by Anonymous||reply 449||08/02/2013|
I'm the "I Love My Wife" bumper sticker on her husband's car.
|by Anonymous||reply 450||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 451||08/02/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 452||08/02/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 453||08/02/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 454||08/03/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 455||08/03/2013|
I am the can of Spam that Grody and Kipper will eat for lunch because they like it, and meat is meat, right?
|by Anonymous||reply 456||08/03/2013|
For those who think frauism is strictly a straight female thing, that is only a flyover thing, I present to you the following:
|by Anonymous||reply 457||08/03/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 458||08/03/2013|
I'm Chicken Spaghetti! Only 1900 calories a serving.
|by Anonymous||reply 459||08/03/2013|
I am Brad's mental image as he tries his best to fuck Michele on sex night.
|by Anonymous||reply 460||08/03/2013|
I'm frau's secret dildo collection
|by Anonymous||reply 461||08/03/2013|
I'm the wearable duvet suit I watch Ellen in.
|by Anonymous||reply 462||08/04/2013|
R457 has a point there. Ms Bradley scrapbooks on the walls of her library!
|by Anonymous||reply 463||08/04/2013|
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
|by Anonymous||reply 464||08/04/2013|
[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.
|by Anonymous||reply 465||08/04/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 466||08/04/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 467||08/04/2013|
...funny thing is, Brad jacks off to me too, wishing he was Julianne Moore.
|by Anonymous||reply 468||08/04/2013|
I talk incessantly about breast-feeding and peanut allergies. Oh, and about Family Shared Beds and carrying my spawn around in a sling. Pffffffffft.
|by Anonymous||reply 469||08/04/2013|
I am the skid marks in Brad's Hanes boxer briefs that Michelle constantly tries to bleach...
|by Anonymous||reply 470||08/04/2013|
I'm the empty wine bottles that are secretly loaded into the minivan and disposed of in public trash cans around town.
|by Anonymous||reply 471||08/04/2013|
I'm the pussy-play engaged in by neighbor fraud, Ellen and Jen
|by Anonymous||reply 472||08/04/2013|
Who are Brad and Michelle?
|by Anonymous||reply 473||08/04/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 474||08/04/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 475||08/04/2013|
I'm the 10-year-old dinner plates that have never had a piece of fish on them.
|by Anonymous||reply 476||08/04/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 477||08/05/2013|
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?
|by Anonymous||reply 478||08/05/2013|
I'm the diet coke she drinks to wash down her double order of fried mac and cheese from the Cheesecake Factory.
|by Anonymous||reply 479||08/05/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 480||08/05/2013|
I'm the bedsheets that Michelle threw out after she trusted a post-Cheesecake Factory fart.
Never, ever trust a fart.
|by Anonymous||reply 481||08/05/2013|
I'm the sassy kitten heels she wears, thinking they make her cankles and piano legs look willowy. Fail.
|by Anonymous||reply 482||08/06/2013|
I am my complete inability to think in abstract terms.
|by Anonymous||reply 486||08/06/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 487||08/06/2013|
I am the pile of steaming shit that R484 looks forward to eating every day.
|by Anonymous||reply 488||08/06/2013|
R484 = The fat ugly cunt that trolls gay websites because she's secretly enthralled by homosexuality.
|by Anonymous||reply 489||08/06/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 490||08/06/2013|
R491 = Protector of the fraus
|by Anonymous||reply 492||08/06/2013|
F&F the troll and begone with it!
|by Anonymous||reply 493||08/06/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 494||08/06/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 495||08/06/2013|
Brad, you in danger gurl @ R495.
|by Anonymous||reply 496||08/06/2013|
And then somebody handed Brad.....
|by Anonymous||reply 497||08/06/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 499||08/06/2013|
R487 is very, very sad.
But I swear, I lived next door to that frau for a year.
|by Anonymous||reply 500||08/06/2013|
I'm her husband, shopping for doggy sunglasses.
|by Anonymous||reply 501||08/06/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 502||08/06/2013|
I am the drawer that holds a tired sachet from her wedding, hidden among 25 pairs of years old granny panties with stained crotches.
|by Anonymous||reply 503||08/06/2013|
I'm a dusty room full of silly, neglected craft supplies.
|by Anonymous||reply 504||08/07/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 505||08/07/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 506||08/07/2013|
Panera Bread doesn't have those things, silly. And don't hate on Panera!
|by Anonymous||reply 507||08/07/2013|
I am the baggy, elastic waist black slacks she wears to work because they match so many of her patterned polyester tops.
|by Anonymous||reply 508||08/07/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 509||08/07/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 510||08/07/2013|
I'm her One Million Moms membership.
|by Anonymous||reply 511||08/07/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 512||08/07/2013|
Panera does have those blinking devices.
|by Anonymous||reply 514||08/07/2013|
I'm the stick-figure family bumper sticker right above the Jesus fish symbol bumper sticker.
|by Anonymous||reply 515||08/07/2013|
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!
|by Anonymous||reply 516||08/07/2013|
I'm her homophobia-laced comments when her nine-year-old son asks her why those two men are holding hands.
|by Anonymous||reply 517||08/07/2013|
I'm the thousands of dollars of Girl Scout Cookie earnings that were embezzled by Michelle.
|by Anonymous||reply 518||08/08/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 519||08/08/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 520||08/09/2013|
I'm the tickets to the Apple Festival this weekend!
|by Anonymous||reply 521||08/09/2013|
I'm the Lean Cuisine in the break room microwave, that is heated up every day. The stench will linger for hours.
|by Anonymous||reply 522||08/09/2013|
I am the "Please" and "Thank you" that she declares loudly, so that anyone within 20 feet will know she is polite.
|by Anonymous||reply 523||08/09/2013|
I am her, ahem, darling little angels that, in her eyes, never, ever do ANYTHING wrong, ever. Oh, not MY children.
|by Anonymous||reply 524||08/09/2013|
I am the moisture seeping through the too-tight size XXL Fruit of the Loom panties as she reads 50 Shades of Grey.
|by Anonymous||reply 525||08/09/2013|
I am the biceps workout her husband gets from lifting all those layers of fat to get to her juicy.
|by Anonymous||reply 526||08/09/2013|
I'm the add-on toppings on her Pinkberry Greek.
|by Anonymous||reply 527||08/09/2013|
There are no Pinkberrys in flyover country.
|by Anonymous||reply 528||08/09/2013|
r528, I think at this point in the thread "flyflover" has become become more of a metaphor and cannot be taken literally.
|by Anonymous||reply 529||08/09/2013|
I am the ankle bracelet Mom and daughters Heather, Gretchen, Sierra and Debbie wear to the mall.
|by Anonymous||reply 530||08/12/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 531||08/12/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 532||08/12/2013|
I wait all year for East Side Night at the Iowa State Fair!
|by Anonymous||reply 533||08/12/2013|
I am the highlight of her trip to New York City.
|by Anonymous||reply 534||08/12/2013|
No, I'M the highlight of her trip to New York City.
|by Anonymous||reply 535||08/12/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 536||08/14/2013|
I'm the disgust and outrage directed towards New Yorkers who have the option the buy $75 ice cubes from Dean and Deluca.
|by Anonymous||reply 537||08/14/2013|
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!"
|by Anonymous||reply 538||08/14/2013|
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.
|by Anonymous||reply 539||08/14/2013|
I'm the gay brother she hates because I got all the good looks. Ha ha.
|by Anonymous||reply 540||08/14/2013|
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....
|by Anonymous||reply 541||08/15/2013|
R540, oh yes I do!
|by Anonymous||reply 542||08/29/2013|
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!!!
|by Anonymous||reply 543||08/29/2013|
I'm the Facebooked anticipation for the annual unveiling of Starbucks' Pumpkin-Spiced Latte.
|by Anonymous||reply 544||08/29/2013|
I'm her ass, at this point there should be a sticker on me that says 'Wide Load.' She's got a membership at 'Forever Fit' at the strip mall, but she's just too busy to get there.
|by Anonymous||reply 545||07/17/2014|
[quote] 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.
I swear, she works in my office building. There's some sow that does the same thing many mornings when it's peak rush hour and people get so pissed.
|by Anonymous||reply 546||07/17/2014|
I'm her facebook post praying for the victims of today's crash in Russia. Fox NEWS IS SAYING 24 AMERICANS! OMIGOSH! WHY IS OUR pResident such a p*ssy!!!
|by Anonymous||reply 547||07/17/2014|
|by Anonymous||reply 548||03/10/2015|
R30 it's a joke. Lighten up. Life is too short.
|by Anonymous||reply 549||03/10/2015|
I'm the phrase, "have a blessed day" that the office frau says each morning upon arrival.
|by Anonymous||reply 550||03/10/2015|
|by Anonymous||reply 551||05/06/2015|
I'm the stench of the food they microwave in the break room, that permeates the office. Can these bitches ever eat a cold sandwich and stop stinking up the fucking place?
|by Anonymous||reply 552||05/06/2015|
I'm the cheapo Michael Kors aviator shades with the graded tan lenses bought 'New Without Tags, some minor scratches' on ebay. Flyover Frau is going to team them with a loud polyester wrap dress and some wedged espadrilles for a 'sexy summer look'.
|by Anonymous||reply 553||05/06/2015|
I'm the scarf she wears with her outfit, thinking it's "fashionable," when it's really an attempt to hide her fat neck.
|by Anonymous||reply 554||05/06/2015|
I'm the frau's friend Bryanna who the husband wants to fuck. He contents himself with pressing his meaty thigh up against her leg under the dining table and asks her if her dish is 'hot enough?', with a pointed grin.
|by Anonymous||reply 555||05/06/2015|
I am the discreet ultra thin Depends with the 'cotton-like feel' which travel everywhere with FF since the birth of Rylan Jr. He weighed in a 9.5 pounds so she's lost bladder control.
|by Anonymous||reply 556||05/06/2015|
I brag to everyone that I belong to the Colonial Dames, DAR, Daughters of 1812 and Daughters Of The Grand Army Of The Republic. In reality, I'm the grand daughter of poor Irish immigrants.
Yes, I know a a frau who got busted for doing this by actual members of these organizations.
|by Anonymous||reply 557||05/06/2015|
Did Brad ever return home from Home Depot with the bathtub caulk? It's been almost two years since he left...
|by Anonymous||reply 558||05/06/2015|