BaRou is the New Bklyn

...And, we're back

Sort of. Tales of adventures in Europe forthcoming, but here are the answers to the little geography puzzlers in the posts while I was away: in the first one, the creeppet Je Ne Sais Quois was in Amsterdam, in the second one, Rotterdam, and in the third, Berlin.

Would you believe that bugger continued to pursue us through Europe?

Here:

Here, where he was especially tickled by the masculine mermen depicted in this fountain:

 

And here.

Back to regularly scheduled blogging very soon.

Var ist die Puppeten-Hosen?!

This was so two days ago (one day? three?), but whatevs.

Where in the World is JNSQ?

This is a much hintier hint than the last hint. We are still being followed internationally by this creepo guy named Je Ne Sais Quois. Can you tell where we are now?

Architecture and design nerds can!

Ou en el Mundo es Je Ne Sais Quoi?

This mysterious and most pervy-looking character, Je Ne Sais Quoi, has been spotted everywhere the f and I go. The question is: Where are we?

(Friends, family, house-sitters, and dog with access to insider information, don't give away our location.)

UPDATE: If you're new to this blog, welcome. If you're old to this blog, check out the article about me in today's Advocate.

God Damn It.

How am I supposed to work under these conditions? There's an unfunny Dilbert comic in this somewhere.



Well, I guess meet Co-Worker Cockroach.

This state is a weird, weird place. And yes, occasionally wonderful.



But on the weird note, won't you check out Part Two in the exciting Abandoned Baton Rouge miniseries, The Bellemont?

Three less eggs to fry

I probably shouldn't post this for the preverts of the world to read, but the f recently departed for Europe for an unspecified amount of time. So far since he's been gone, I'ts been a pretty action-packed couple of days. I've been hit on by a stranger, cowered in fear at a potential home invasion, gone on an unintentional shopping spree, and gotten almost no writing done. Sorry, feminism, sometimes I can be such an unproductive girly girl.

Chicken Fried Fry Day

Not to get a big debate going, but it's strange to now live somewhere that puts up a display like this protesting this week's 35th anniversary of Roe v Wade. Not pictured: matching the sentiment, faux-blood-drenched billboards on the highway referring to the slaughter of innocents.

Of course, this kind of display is not limited to the Bible Belt (or near-Bible Belt, as some readers would put Baton Rouge), fiance and I were the only ones not applauding after a 20-minute pro-life speech at a Christening in Jersey last year and felt the subsequent staredown from the pulpit. (In addition to my ongoing internal staredown from the pulpit on high--thanks, Catholic school!) Yet another reason to not go to church. But obviously we didnt' see a whole lot of this back in liberal-land NYC...

It's a freaky Friday roundup, for shizzle

Imagine my amusement on finding this book that my bf apparantly read as a wee lad.

Yes, it's Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm and the Witch Who Ran Out of Jizzle. You can see it was purchased for 20 cents at Bradlees, which in the pre-Wal-Mart/Target era, was every mom's favorite discount emporium, along with Caldor, with its brown rainbow logo. (And before them, I think, it was Two Guys? At least where I'm from.)

No matter! Clearly, there's something much more important to discuss. 

Compare and contrast: getting hosed

I'm always going on about some antiquing find or thrift score, but I kept forgetting to share this particular disturbing find ever since returning from my homeland in October. Tucked in a basket in one dark corner of a Jersey shore thrift shop were some old packages of pantyhose.

This one was on the hot end of the normal packaging you would see back in the day (like, even in the early 80s they might have still been using this lady). What a leggy beauty, right?

But the models weren't all so lucky in the old lottery of life.

Come on women, it really is time to stop acting like whores.

Hilarious.

So, today the LSU Daily Reveille ran the semester's  most unbelievable opinion piece since September's gem, America Needs to Stand Against Homosexuality. Are you ready, ladies? This one is about how we are all a bunch of whores. (Scroll down to the second letter on the page.)

First I thought, as did the bf: this cannot be real. But judging from people's reactions in the comments section (there are some good 'uns, check it out) and on KLSU today, it seems to not be a spoof.

What can you even say to something like this. Except: it sounds to me like SOMEBODY needs to get laid by a dirty whore!

Huh huh.

He's a virgin.