Dudes, a tent with a mouse on it is super dangerous. Mice attract hungry snakes. Snakes attract hungry hawks. Hawks attract hungry bears. Bears attract hungry leather daddies. Leather daddies attract major chafing, and no one EVER remembers to pack baby powder when they’re camping.

I had two goals today: Brownie Sundae; Ogle Dong. The Men-ups calendar fulfills neither. But I still ordered two. If you aren’t dreaming of a world where guys can fix stuff and wear shiny orange undies (but for some reason are not donning their giant, glistening boners), you’re probably a fascist.

Via The Daily What.

If Savannah were a dog, I’d say, “Savannah puts the ‘arf’ in scarf!” But she’s a cat, so I’ll have to go with the lesser, “Savannah puts the ‘purrr’ in purrr-tend that was funny and I’ll either leg-wrestle you in a tankini or you can motorboat me for twelve seconds. Your choice.”

You have to log in. Deal with it.

Cat ladies and technology mix like Real Housewives and self-awareness, so taking a flying leap into the 21st Century is gonna be a little scary. Luckily, Connect Design is easing you pussy-petters in with cross-stitched iPhone cover kits for you to do your damn self. Just set your ring tone to the Meow Mix song, spin Fluffy’s sheddings into thread and show the goddamn future who’s boss.

Note: I’m still boss. You’re just a loser with a kitty cat phone.

Note: from now on, refer to trimming your pubes as whacking your lettuce. It goes nicely with your propensity to toss salads.

Behold, The Body Shop’s Twin Ball Massager. Otherwise known as The Post that Wrote Itself.

This poor little kitty drank way too many glasses of Chardonn-gay.

Does anyone else have the sudden urge to watch some hardcore S&M man-on-man porn?

Behold the Cthulu Roaster

I’m quitting advertising and joining the research field solely so that I can apply at this company. But when I get hired, you can bet there’s no way I’m saying, “I just got an awesome RIM career.”

Cocktail Rimmers available here. Internet rabbit hole of perversion available by special order only.

I guess this answers the age-old question: Bert isn’t gay. No self-respecting gay man would leave the house without waxing that unibrow. Also, I’m pretty sure the expression on his face says, “There’s a 100% chance that I’m gonna motorboat you.”