Everyone reading this right now probably has a pile of magazines and catalogs in the bathroom. All questionable hygienics of this practice aside, I noticed an interesting pattern going on in our downstairs crapper.
From the reading material in someone's bathroom, you can tell a lot about them. For instance, here's the contents of our reading bucket:
Cabalas Fall 2006 - This one comes to the house addressed to my wife. What can you tell about her from this? You can tell that she is in the market for a tree stand, some new camo clothing and a bitchin' turkey call. I think she had her eye on that jumbo bottle of deer piss, too -- but the page wasn't folded over so I don't know for sure.
Victoria's Secret - This one comes to the house addressed to me. There are usually three or four different VS catalogs in there. From this you can tell I am in the market for a tall, insanely built, extremely hot model with her own personal wind tunnel who will walk around my house in nothing but her underwear, 24x7. Either that, or I'm in the market for a boy short that won't show any panty-lines through my jeans. Also, if I am ever in need a bra that will completely erase my nipples, they've got me covered.
Women's Health - One of my wife's contributions to the bucket. One thousand ways to use a giant blow-up ball to exercise. How to eat right. How to examine your boobs. How to cook a 5-course meal in under 30 seconds. How to do it while examining your boobs. How to get a tight, round ass in 3 minutes a day. I am amazed by the stuff I learn in my own bathroom. My ass is not yet round and tight, however, so I take what I read with a grain of salt.
Sportsman's Guide - Everything you need to shoot stuff. Actually, everything you need, period. Military surplus, sporting goods overstocks, stained-glass windows, housewares, beer-making kits, you name it. It's the strangest combination of miscellaneous crap you've ever witnessed, and one of my absolute favorites. I've purchased and sent back more shoddy merchandise from this place than from any other. About 3 out of ten times, I get a great deal on something, and it keeps me coming back. I can't resist it. Where else can you get a bull-scrotum candy dish, a pair of full-arm pull-on tattoo sleeves, an electric generator, an inflatable canoe and a complete set of deer antler silverware -- all on the same invoice?
Eating Well Magazine - Not sure about this one. In truth, I've never actually opened it. I'm not saying I don't intend to someday, but come on -- there are three Victoria's Secret catalogs just sitting there.
National Geographic - I don't even know where this one came from. Probably slipped in there by some shady house guest trying to give me some culture on the sly. But...Victoria's Secret.
Writer's Digest - This one is all mine. I will get published one of these days. I realize that I probably need to submit something somewhere for that to happen, however that realization hasn't really helped my writing career in the slightest, because I am nothing if not lazy.
The pattern I noticed? All the catalogs I purchase my wife's gifts from come addressed to me, and vice versa. Perfectly logical, if you think about it.
It still looks like I have a women's underwear fetish, though.
Hmm in college we just had a perfect geologic record of playboy and maxim. The playboys went back into the 90s I think. There were more under the sink.ReplyDelete
By carbon dating, I was able to determine much about the early peoples of this dorm.
Captain Destructo likes to sneak off with my Glamours and Cosmos to look at the scantilly clad women modeling skin creams and feminine products and such. He's just getting ready for when he starts sneaking Playboys into his bedroom.ReplyDelete
I always ask my husband and my roommate, who is a dude, if they want to look through my Victoria's Secret before I toss it. My husband will say, "If I say yes, will you get mad at me?"ReplyDelete
And one time, a long time ago, on one occasion, I bought something for my niece from Pottery Barn Kids. So now I get those catalogues.
You mean you DON'T have a women's underwear fetish? Come on. ;)ReplyDelete
well, yeah. But now it LOOKS like I do.ReplyDelete