3/31/2007
Wife Converts Manly Basement to Wussified Den
By Billy Pilgrim, Toledo Tales Rogue Editor
RIP: Awesome man-pad, 2003-2007
Jim Kensington thought there would be no greater feeling when, after two hellish weeks in Toronto on a business trip, he could return and relish three consecutive days off from work with his loving wife Rebecca of four years.
But Kensington was shocked beyond words when he discovered how his wife had spent her time alone: she overhauled his über-masculine basement retreat into a wussy, pussified den.
“The wet bar, the dart board — even my fucking pool table — they’re all gone,” Kensington remarked after taking his third shot in as many minutes at an undisclosed dive-bar near his West Toledo home. “Now I gotta come to this crap-hole just to get some peace from the missus. Why would she think I’d like potpourri and ‘pastel-toned scented candles’? Jesus, this blows.”
The new "faggery daggery doo" den
In her ignorance, Mrs. Kensington sincerely thought her chic renovations would impress her globe-trotting hubby.
“I swear, I thought he’d love it,” Kensington sobbed as held a handkerchief against her full, ruby lips and swayed. “Jim hinted lately that he was thinking about having kids—how the hell did I know he’d have an aneurism just because I donated his favorite stuff to Goodwill? Besides,” she added logically, calming herself a bit: “He only paid $1800 for that pool table, and it had a nick on one corner, so it’s not like it was worth anything.”
RIP: Awesome man-pad, 2003-2007
Jim Kensington thought there would be no greater feeling when, after two hellish weeks in Toronto on a business trip, he could return and relish three consecutive days off from work with his loving wife Rebecca of four years.
But Kensington was shocked beyond words when he discovered how his wife had spent her time alone: she overhauled his über-masculine basement retreat into a wussy, pussified den.
“The wet bar, the dart board — even my fucking pool table — they’re all gone,” Kensington remarked after taking his third shot in as many minutes at an undisclosed dive-bar near his West Toledo home. “Now I gotta come to this crap-hole just to get some peace from the missus. Why would she think I’d like potpourri and ‘pastel-toned scented candles’? Jesus, this blows.”
The new "faggery daggery doo" den
In her ignorance, Mrs. Kensington sincerely thought her chic renovations would impress her globe-trotting hubby.
“I swear, I thought he’d love it,” Kensington sobbed as held a handkerchief against her full, ruby lips and swayed. “Jim hinted lately that he was thinking about having kids—how the hell did I know he’d have an aneurism just because I donated his favorite stuff to Goodwill? Besides,” she added logically, calming herself a bit: “He only paid $1800 for that pool table, and it had a nick on one corner, so it’s not like it was worth anything.”
Labels: home renovations, man-pad
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That's just not right, foolin with a man's jooles when he's not around to protect them.
Pastels and potpourri..., GAWD!!!
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Pastels and potpourri..., GAWD!!!
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