“How I Met Your Mother”

Thanks to Racialicious, now we know where all those pudgy, glistening-faced young Republicans that infest Washington like naked mole-rats get their hard-faced trophy wives from.

What does an ambitious young Harvard man want in a woman? Here’s a Craig’s List ad from one of America’s “best and brightest”:

[Click image for bigger Flickr version]

No Black, Asian, overweight or unattractive women for Harvard party

by Carmen Van Kerckhove
What woman could resist such a charming invitation? (Thanks Christopher!)

More commentary on this CraigsList ad here, here and here. And if you never read Wendi Muse’s classic post analyzing the racism of CraigsList personal ads, what are you waiting for?

Far be it from me to condemn dating classifieds, but if you ask me, (you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway – isn’t the internet grand?) any self-respecting woman who’s ambitious and greedy enough to respond to such an overtly racist, classist and sexist ad as that deserves all the connubial bliss that’s coming to her.

UPDATE: It occurs to me that this guy’s a wannabe who’s just too cheap to spring for a paid escort.

I wonder, could this advertiser be one of these eligible bachelors?

Comedy Double: There’s No-One Quite Like Grandma

Wahahaha. Grandma to the rescue!

You’ve been told – don’t mess with Grandma…

Oh dear. This is what happens when Nan plays Doom too much. An XBox viral:

Age can often bring an entirely new lease of life, not to mention a loosening of inhibitions. Here’s Grandma on the PS3, stuck at a big boss level on Resistance, Fall of Man:

Not all Grandmas are old, though. They’ve still got plenty of va-va-voom, as this banned Hyundai ad demonstrates:

So do Granddads too, it seems.

Hang on – aren’t Grandmas supoosed to set an example to the rest of us? Not this one:

Some grandmas are just bad-tempered old bats who can’t turn down a good scrap.

One of the bad things about being old is the creaking:

But one of the good things about being old is that you can speak your mind. Just ask the Fruitcake Lady.

And age is no barrier to having a good laugh.

Bonus clip:

It’s not about Grandmas as such, but rather it’s for any Grandmas reading this: a little reminder of the reason why being a Grandma is just so cool.

No. 1 On My “Wanting To Take A Running Punch At” List

Pop star talentless nonentity with money Avril Lavigne, as quoted in The Superficial:

On her generosity:

“I am a very giving person. When the hurricane thing happened, I went to my closet, filled six boxes of stuff and said to my assistant, ‘Take it to Katrina!’ I also like to give stuff to people who are my ‘workers,’ especially if they don’t make much money.”

[…]

BE GRATEFUL.
It’s important to be thankful, even if you’re poor. I mean, come on, we all have clean water — well, ok, not people in the developing world.

I’m sure young Avril’s ‘workers’ (what, are they just pretending to be workers or something?) are delighted with her castoffs: it’ll make the lack of food on their kids’ plates so much more bearable somehow.

But hey, never mind, she’ll get hers – looks don’t last and money gets spent, there are plenty of other talentless blondes desperate for fame and it really is just a very short step from stardom to Starbucks.Karma can be a right bitch, as Lavigne seems to be finding out.

I await the media feeding frenzy, the panning of her next album, the scandalous, expensive divorce, the drugs, the public meltdown, the failed rehab and the bankruptcy to come with interest.

Then I’ll have a shot of hazelnut in that latte, madam, and be quick about it.

Gusset-Typing For Gaia

Well, I never knew that. Kathryn Flett in today’s Observer Woman section:

The planet will, then, be grateful for the revolutionary new Rabbit Amnesty – ‘a unique way for Rabbit lovers to enjoy cleaner, greener orgasms’, according to Bonny Hall, head buyer for online sex-toy retailer, LoveHoney. ‘By sending an old Rabbit to us, customers get the satisfaction of having it recycled without the inconvenience or embarrassment of taking it to a local council rubbish dump.’ For every recycled Rabbit, LoveHoney pledges to donate £1 to the World Land Trust to support rainforest-protection projects. Safe sex? Cybersex? So Twentieth Century. If you’re at it with a rabbit you can – smugly, modishly – enjoy guilt-free eco-sex, too.

But before you can recycle without guilt, first you’ve got to get over the embarasssment of actually buying the bloody thing – and that’s a whole other story.

Wife Wanted: Don’t All Rush At Once

The godly wife

I’m sure we’ll all envy the the lucky lady who bags this catch, girls. She’s in for a real treat. From the blog formerly known as Baptists for Brownback:

Single White Republican Christian Male

I am a single White Christian Republican Male- Straight and 6?4. I am a born again Christian Republican Baptist and jolly good looking if God will permit me the small sin of vanity. I am looking for the White Christian Republican Woman of my dreams.

Aren’t we all?

Hey, I hear Ann Coulter’s still single, I can’t imagine why. A possibility, d’you think? She has the ‘white’ part down pat.

A man has too many things to contend with and needs the most perfect woman to compliment his life.

Oh I know, the poor loves, how they suffer. All that shoe-lace tying, laying down the law and bum-wiping, it taxes the mind and the soul in the worst way.

I have been seeking this perfect woman since the harlot I was with decided she needed more and looked around whilst I was working. Her need for company (a penis) stronger than her need for loyalty and devotion. Well one is best rid of something like that anyway, aren’t they? I looked in the Catholic ranks for such a woman and found that most were fat with smallish moustaches and seemed to favour black and waving their arms around a fair bit. They certainly seemed to love children and had armies of the scruffy little urchins around them…all of them sporting miniature moustaches and fat little pot bellies. The total black look did look serious but frankly the moustaches and obesity turned me off.

That lets Tom Friedman out, godly conservative though he be. Poor Tom, he’ll be shattered. He’s been practicing his foot tapping and wide stance especially. But all is nopt yet lost…

Next I wandered over to the Mormon camp…They did not drink, smoke or otherwise engage in poor habits ( a plus in a limited world of pluses for Mormonism) . I chatted up a few likely candidates who looked clean and shiny…teeth white and lustrous hair pull back into bouncy pony tails. Their neat dresses starched and white and smelling like fresh air and sunlight. A man, could be easily swayed by such walking candidates for Christ. That is: until they opened their mouths.

Why? Do Mormon girls have their larynxes altered so as to sound like holy corncrakes or do they just have a horrible accent?

“I gotta marry a prophet and an’ ah cain’t stend ‘im…”

But no, it’s not that, it’s much, much more serious:

Yes those sweet lips with the whitest white of teeth just heartbreakingly close enough to steal a kiss…were talking about some bloke called Joseph Smith and how he found tablets that were from the Lord Thy God and now conveniently lost for all time. Their tiny white hands, from years of White breeding with White…the tiniest of blue veins visible…were elaborately used to punctuate the foul non God and his non angel moron(i).

“Their tiny white hands, from years of White breeding with White…the tiniest of blue veins visible…” Go on, say what you really mean.

Mormons are vampires, aren’t they?

Heartbreakingly attractive and yet condemned just as their foul cult is [see – vampires, like I said: P] I was so tempted to ignore their stain of sin but in the end God just said “No”…and I turned away from these sinful temptations.

Why didn’t he stake them then, the fool? Now we’re all going to get bitten by bloodsucking satanic hellspawn and it’s all his fault…

Who would have thought it would have been so hard to find a worthy vessel to carry my seed? Sometimes the ladies I met had all the right values…were pro life and seemed deeply committed and the moment I thought maybe she was the one, she would turn around and ask me for a light for her cigarette? One of the Catholics would no doubt ask me to borrow my razor had things progressed. The Jehovah Witness girls laden down with blue and green books had arms like caber tossers and preened about smugly believing that she would be one of the reputed 144,000. The Buddhist girls reeked of incense and patchouli and most of them looked like they were cultivating small tropical rain forests under their arms and bragged of lesbian encounters. They had more armpit hair than hair on their heads and perhaps in a few case, self immolation might have been advised.

He says that like he thinks religion is a bad thing.

The days went by and the list of candidates grew slimmer. Unitarian girls with big frizzy hair and buck teeth prancing about claiming God’s love of everything and the stunned look on their insipid brainwashed faces when I told them, that just wasn’t true!

Of course not, how silly! Lordy, everyone knows God hates liberals.

Jewish girls with shrill screeching voices, loud and obnoxious flaunting sexuality as though it were a virtue. Their dark secret plans fully laid out for the Sabbath weekends with Goy boyfriends who have money and fat mama’s at home wringing hands at the shame this would bring.

Oy, such a mensch! He’s looking more atrractive all the time. I simply can’t believe he hasn’t been snapped up yet.

Plain, run of the mill flat chested protestant girls with bitter dour dispositions to match…Surely these women must know that a man needs a warm smile…a pleasingly soft generous body to yield to him. Surely some of these tight screwed calculating females understand a man needs a gentle welcoming face? I scratched those off the list as well.

Poor loves, they must be devastated. How will they ever recover from knowing they’re so horribly unattractive?

Pagans, militants, feminists and anyone with ginger coloured hair. Not worthy to be in the same room as me let alone a matrimony bed waiting for my precious seed.

Damn, I’m out of the running? So soon? My red-headed militant feminist heart is broken.

[…]

Are you out there?

Respond here please…a photograph will be sent on request. Yours in Christ.

Curiously enough for such an equal opportunity bigot, our ardent young swain doesn’t mention nationality, thus leaving the door open for a nice Orthodox babushka-in-embryo looking for a godly spouse. He’d better prepare for the inevitable stampede; I hear those poor bereft Eastern European ladies just love them some arrogant provincial yank.

But there’s a mystery here. Who is our lost lonelyheart?

Is it the stunningly handsome Brother Billybob Neck? Is it the mature, debonair, yet devout Brother Yancy, he of the distinguished, greying temples? Or could it be (be still, my beating heart) the Prophet himself, CC Davis II?

Surely not: a prophet would never play around on his girlfriend. Would he?

As a heterosexual I enjoy spending time with my lady friend, Karen, who I have known since Jr. high school. Sorry, Ladies, I am not looking for a romantic encounter. Friends from both genders are always welcome.

But wait – could Karen be that harlot that our hero mentioned? If so it’s lucky that the author had his very best friend to er… comfort him in his heartbreak.

I enjoy working out in the gym, wrestling, and broadway shows. I own a Interior Design firm with my best friend, Gary, who I met in college

Like David and Jonathan, obviously – one’s male friends are so important to the mission of the Godly man, as many respected senators will personally attest.

Nothing, but nothing says good, solid husband material like close, patently platonic male friendships, a love of musicals and a talent for co-ordinating furniture fabrics. What woman could ask for more?

So ladies, get your applications in now, before he’s snapped up like a dozen hot donuts by a hungry undercover men’s lavatory cop at 4am. Oh, how I wish I could apply for myself, but of course I am damned by my unfortunate genetic heritage and helotry.

My heart is broken. I may never get over this mortal blow.