Oh and by the way?

We no longer read this. Or that. And, pray tell, why?
1. Uninteresting
2. We don't like ads
(Binkomonster just doesn't like providing $$ to others via our eyeballs)
3. We're looking for channels that are far less whingy
So. We'll just keep on walking past these soapboxes.

We do however peek at this.  She's funny, and we like her style, emotion, and parody-skills.  We very much like her (and are secretly envious, but only in a good way).  We've completely striken this, and this, and that, and oh here this from our viewing. In short summary: it's the fruit loop, the bad loaded-with-brightly-colored-carcinogenic sugar, the skanky-avoid-looking-or-sear-your-corneas, and the truly pointless.  And besides, visiting these is now on our no-no list.

We however, just cannot get enough of these two. Simply. Hilarious.

Comments

[SFGary]

Dang it, good point. I can't argue with that. My view of women collecting shoes were colored by Mrs. Marcos.

Don't say anything about Football or for that matter Baseball watching! its a religious experience. Snacks within easy reach, beer or in my case some good Dry Creek Zin, aahhh, life is good.

[Binkomonster]

Well, put it this way, there are equivalents on the male side. The love of Home Depot and powertools, the Monday night Football game... (insert other stereotypical male activity here). The love of shoes really can be summed up thus:
1. Shoes complete the outfit. Sometimes they even make the outfit.
2. Unlike shopping for clothes (where you have all the drama of trying to find what you want to wear, in your size), your shoe size doesn't change, and couture shoes are made to fit every woman. So no one is excluded from being able to try on and walk away with that pair of pink crystal studded, purple feather laced, lucite stiletto heel shoes.
3. Shoes lend themselves to being objects that one can hoard (you know, small in size, variety of shapes and colors).

[SFGary]

the inability to understand women and their love of shoes has been one of the abiding failures of my life. Friends have tried to explain the phenomenon but my eyes glaze over and I start looking for the nearest exit.