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MWC ISO FDR
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MWC ISO FDR Faced with the Great Depression, this nation instituted the New Deal. One of the key features of this program was the creation of the so-called "Alphabet Agencies." This was a whole slew of agencies known primarily by their initials: the FDIC, the SEC, the FCC, the FHA, the TVA, the WPA, the CCC ... the list goes on, since there were more than 100 Alphabet Agencies. Why were New Deal agencies primarily named by initialisms? It may have had something to do with the fact that the president responsible for them, FDR, went by his initials. Enough with the history lesson. The point is, we're here to get laid. We never aspired to head a Depression-era government agency. So, why do we have to put up with endless amounts of initials? Maybe some people think that the whole internet works like Twitter. To them, I say: there isn't a 140 character limit on this site; you have plenty of room to write a profile. There is no reason to have a profile two sentences long, and half abbreviated. When we first got onto this site, we had no idea what anyone was saying. Two months later, we still have no idea half the time. Of all the shorthand on the site, the first thing that really struck us was the semi-initialism "D&D Free." This one really baffled us. We're both nerds. We both play Dungeons & Dragons; "D&D," for short. In fact, we actually met while playing roleplaying games. When we joined this site, we encountered what appeared to be a massive wave of anti-geek bias. One night, Annie was perusing the profiles here. "Ooooh," she said, "Look at this couple. They're hot!" I came over to the computer. "No good," I said. "They're not interested in us. See? It says that they only want people who are D&D free." "Damn! Again? Why do people dislike nerds so much?" She thought for a while. "It's got to mean something other than Dungeons & Dragons. Maybe we should check Urban Dictionary ..." "No!" I said. "Absolutely not. I'm not going back to Urban Dictionary. Not after that guy tricked me into looking up 'mung.' The hysterical blindness took hours to wear off. Besides, it's pretty clear what they mean. It says right there that they aren't interested in people who play games." "I guess you're right." She pouted in that sexy way she has, and went back to browsing profiles. A little while later, she called out, "I think this guy just propositioned me for secret-agent sex roleplaying." I was confused, so I came back over. "See?" she said. "He's looking for NSA sex. NSA is a spy agency, right?" "Well," I said, "That's certainly a unique fetish." "Not really. I've seen it on here quite a lot. It takes all kinds to make a world, I guess." "I'm not sure it takes all kinds so much as there are all kinds. I'm not sure I really want to dress up like James Bond for sex." "But I could be Pussy Galore!" "I think I'd rather not. Have you found anything more ... conventional?" "Hmmmm ... maybe," she said. "I wonder why so many people on this site are into British television?" "What are you talking about?" "So many women on this site say they love BBC. I didn't know it was that popular." "Well, Masterpiece Theatre is quality television," I said. "I don't know why you'd proclaim your love for it on a sex site, though." "Don't try to be all highbrow with me, I'm your wife! I know you don't watch Masterpiece Theatre. The only thing you watch on TV is football." "You could pretend you think I'm a cultured intellectual, you know. It would improve my ego." "Ooooh!" she said, ignoring me. "This guy has BBC. I bet he gets a lot of play on here, as popular as that is." "Yeah, I don't doubt that he regularly has throngs of half-naked vixens at his house, watching Antiques Roadshow UK ..." She had clicked on his profile pic, and was no longer listening to me. She was just staring silently at the monitor with a half-smile on her face, entranced. "Annie," I said, "Annie? Can you hear me? What is so fascinating? It's just a picture of ... what is that, anyway? A telephone pole?" I looked more closely. "Oh. I see." "Yeah," she said. "Me, too." Her voice was subdued, and she was still smiling like the Mona Lisa. She spoke slowly, as though waking up from a pleasant dream. "I think I'm going to send him a quick email." "I don't know if he'll be interested." "Why not?" "Well, he's not looking for sex right now, for a start. He wants it later." "Later?" "See, he says, 'Looking for LTR,' right there." "OK," she said, "but he doesn't say how much later. I wasn't planning on driving over there tonight!" "I think you were, actually. You're sitting in a puddle." She blushed, and looked away. "OK ... but maybe tomorrow will be later enough for him?" "I wouldn't be so sure of that," I said. "He also says he requires HWP." "What's HWP?" "I'm assuming it's short for housewarming parties." She looked at me like I had said something insane. "What?" I said, "He can probably has a very specific fetish, and can only achieve an erection when attending a housewarming party. Why are you looking at me like that? That thing probably can hold a couple of pints of blood — I'm not the slightest bit surprised he has a hard time getting it up." She rolled her eyes and started working on her email. "Dear Mr. Redwood, my name is Annie ..." she paused for a moment as she reread his profile. "What does he mean when he says he wants FWB?" "Free Will Baptists," I replied. "He must be one of those people who doesn't play outside his faith." "Oh, no, mister, I'm not falling for that. After that thing where you thought everyone on the site was Amish*, you aren't tricking me into thinking his profile is tied in with some religious sect!" "It's a sects site, sweetie. What did you expect?" She groaned in disgust. Her eyes didn't so much roll, as attempt to flee upwards into her skull in an attempt to escape the pun. "OK, fine, Miss Skeptical," I said. "Maybe FWB doesn't stand for Free Will Baptists. The Frankfurt stock exchange is also called the FWB. Maybe you think he's looking for that?" She stared at me blankly. "The Frankfurter Wertpapierbörse," I explained. "How do you even know these things? Anyway, I'm emailing him." A while later, she called to me once again. "Hey, didn't we determine that BBW had something to with enormous penises? 'Cause here's a woman claiming she's one." "No," I said, coming back to the computer, "that was BBC. I don't know what BBW is." "Well, let's just look at her profile and ... Oh ... my ..." There was a long silence. "Honey," she said, "are you OK? You're just staring." "I'm hoping the hysterical blindness comes back." She closed the profile page. "It said she had 'A little<b> extra padding.</font></b>'" "She does," I said, "in much the same way our mattress has a little<b> extra padding.</font></b>" The next day, Annie found me working on our profile, and asked what I was doing. "I'm trying to rewrite our profile to make it fit in a little better. Listen to what I've got so far: 'MWC ISO HWP BBC ...'" "Hey!" she interrupted, "I'm not particular. BWC is fine, too." "Duly noted. '... for NSA or FWB.' What do you think? Hey, where are you going?" "To the kitchen," she called back. "I have a sudden craving for a BLT." "Go easy on the bacon," I called to her. "I don't want you turning into a BBW." * (Note: see previous blog post) |
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Does MMM mean campbell's soup?
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Awww ... We love you, too – you're the best! But, after that rant about abbreviations, "omg?" Are you trolling for a spanking? 
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9/2/2010 6:08 pm |
LOL freaking hilarious. Love your sense of humor. Can't stop laughing. that for the awesome blog.
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Gotta love the lazy initial writers. Talk about dumbing down of the universe. Great blog as always 
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1 post 9/6/2010 6:34 am |
Very funny post. Enjoy your humor and your outlook on the "lifestyle."
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 Great BLOG!! Very entertaining! I loved it!lkn4discreet69
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