Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
Not My Kind of Marriage
What kind of woman says yes to a proposal like this? Well she’d have to be some kind of bitch to say no, so perhaps a more revealing question would be, what kind of marriage will this be?
He set himself on fire. ON FIRE. Without a suit (if I’m reading the article right), with gasoline. Set himself on fire, jumped in a pool, waded out, got on one knee and said “baby you make me hot” or some such.
This guy is a moron. Nevermind what can happen to you when you set yourself on fire, but what will this be like? “I want you to go to the gas station and get me another pack of cigarettes.” “Not right now, I’m reading Morgan Freeberg’s blog.” “What is WITH you? You used to set yourself on FIRE for me literally, now you won’t even get up from that computer to run an errand for me.”
This poor schmuck will have to jump up and say How hi? Can I come back down again now? — on every single whim, every single gimme, every single I-want, no matter how trivial it is. All he can hope to do is meet the standard. Just meet it. Forget about surpassing it. You can’t really go upward a notch or two from setting yourself on fire.
And if something is physically painful? Forget it. How do you go about complaining how tired your ass is getting at the opera house, when your lady knows that you set yourself on fire? Being on fire…ass tired. Being on fire…ass tired. It doesn’t compare. “Honey, while you’re in there can you get me a beer?” Forget it. You don’t need a beer. Even if you ARE hot and thirsty, it’s not like being on fire and I know you can handle that just fine, sweetie.
Okay we have the Runaway Bride guy…we have the guy who ran around the world while his wife rode a scooter…now we have this fellow who sets himself on fire for his fiance’s amusement. Which husband do I least want to be. Hmmm…bachelorhood for me. Damn straight.
Men, what is wrong with you? There’s this thing called “managing expectations” — women understand all about it. A cute woman learns about this before she can walk, whereas a man doesn’t figure it out until well after he’s unhooked his first bra, maybe fifteen years older. You always leave room for yourself to exceed expectations. What is so hard about this? Did you know Superman was created by a couple of young punk-kids, teenagers, and even they understood there was a reason why Clark Kent changed his clothes before he rescued Lois from falling off a skyscraper. Clark had a good thing going. Clark was smart.
If I had a wife who desperately needed a kidney, I’d give her one of mine in a great big hurry — but I’d donate it anonymously. Do it the Clark Kent way. Marriages thrive on the partners doing things for each other, that exceed expectations. They can’t survive without that happening occasionally, therefore, they crumble when that bar of expectations gets raised too high. So you keep that bar at ankle-height, nice and manageable, so the marriage stays long and happy. Especially when you aren’t even married yet!
Update: He was wearing a suit. Medical personnel were standing by. And his future wife is very pretty. She has a fantastic pair of legs. In my book…well wait, actually, none of that changes anything. He is still a dumbass.
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