My stepfather hasn't washed his pants in almost 4 years

[Mike_Yates]

My retired stepfather hasn't washed his pants in almost 4 years.

He wears them every single day and just lounges around constantly smoking cigarettes.

This is not normal behavior.

 

[tributemisty]

That's disgusting

 

[Mike_Yates]

He also showers only once a week.

 

[Que Va]

We talking Carhartts or footie pajamas?

 

[Mike_Yates]

We talking Carhartts or footie pajamas?

Short PJ's.

And all of his clothes reek of B/O and cigarette smoke.

This image best describes him.

http://www.bitboard.com/0798/slob.jpg

 

[Que Va]

Short PJ's.

And all of his clothes reek of B/O and cigarette smoke.

Short PJ's?

Were they big-boy length at one time and he had them hemmed up when the knees gave out or did he buy them that way?

 

[prdigy666]

My retired stepfather hasn't washed his pants in almost 4 years.

He wears them every single day and just lounges around constantly smoking cigarettes.

This is not normal behavior.

Huh... Sounds like you should move the fuck out and get your own place then. Sucks when the guy that pays your bills does stuff you don't like.

 

[SarahJ92]

A fire hose is what you need

 

[DesEsseintes]

Mike, don't listen to these voices of reason. Listen to the voices in your head. Specifically this one right here. The one with an English accent you find disturbingly sexy because it's a man's voice.

<Whispers.> You need to kill this man, Mike. He wants you to. His filthy habits are a cry for bloody, veiny, spouty help which only you can provide.

Look at him. Look at him sitting there, all fat and stinking like a foetid anus. And now look at your man's arms, Mike. The arms your mother loves. The ones she used to stroke and tell you that you were her goodtime baby bear before you did that thing you didn't mean to do to her. She's fine, Mike. The doctors are looking after her now. Focus on this fat man. That's it.

Your arms, Mike. Your strong arms could do it. Your strong arms with the strong axe just here. That's it. Think of everything he's ever done to you, Mike. All the smells he's forced on you. And that time after the game when you thought no-one could see. But I saw, Mike. I saw because I always see. Because I'm always here, inside you. Wearing you like a glove. Making you do things. Things you're ashamed of. Things that wake you up sweating in the middle of the night. Dirty, glorious, awful sexy things that make you sick with desire.

Imagine the fat, smelly man without his head, Mike. Imagine his spouty, arterial neck, twitching on those fat shoulders. You could do that, Mike. You could put him out of his stinking, lardy misery. Do it.

Do it.

Don't make me angry again.

 

[Libsam]

^^ Also, this voice in your head looks like James Spader

 

[DesEsseintes]

^^ Also, this voice in your head looks like James Spader

But sounds like some godawful cross between Hugh Grant and Tony Blair. It's messed up, right enough.

 

[Wat_Tyler]

https://scontent-a-lga.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/10408133_799472270089701_1807038746215134653_n.png?oh=c12592f6fa73d943aa5897883aa6d34d&oe=54DC4CC2

 

[Que Va]

^^ Also, this voice in your head looks like James Spader

"Sex, Lies, and Videotape" James Spader...

...not "Pretty in Pink" James Spader of "Blacklist" James Spader.

 

[Libsam]

But sounds like some godawful cross between Hugh Grant and Tony Blair. It's messed up, right enough.

would that be americanized cockney upper class?

 

[GimpyIntellect]

Mike, don't listen to these voices of reason. Listen to the voices in your head. Specifically this one right here. The one with an English accent you find disturbingly sexy because it's a man's voice.

<Whispers.> You need to kill this man, Mike. He wants you to. His filthy habits are a cry for bloody, veiny, spouty help which only you can provide.

Look at him. Look at him sitting there, all fat and stinking like a foetid anus. And now look at your man's arms, Mike. The arms your mother loves. The ones she used to stroke and tell you that you were her goodtime baby bear before you did that thing you didn't mean to do to her. She's fine, Mike. The doctors are looking after her now. Focus on this fat man. That's it.

Your arms, Mike. Your strong arms could do it. Your strong arms with the strong axe just here. That's it. Think of everything he's ever done to you, Mike. All the smells he's forced on you. And that time after the game when you thought no-one could see. But I saw, Mike. I saw because I always see. Because I'm always here, inside you. Wearing you like a glove. Making you do things. Things you're ashamed of. Things that wake you up sweating in the middle of the night. Dirty, glorious, awful sexy things that make you sick with desire.

Imagine the fat, smelly man without his head, Mike. Imagine his spouty, arterial neck, twitching on those fat shoulders. You could do that, Mike. You could put him out of his stinking, lardy misery. Do it.

Do it.

Don't make me angry again.

Jesus Christ.

After reading this, I feel compelled to kill the stinky fat man, too.

 

[DesEsseintes]

would that be americanized cockney upper class?

No - a faintly camp, rather breathy upper middle class non-entity of a voice. What you are describing is known as the Duke Van Dyke.

 

[DesEsseintes]

Jesus Christ.

After reading this, I feel compelled to kill the stinky fat man, too.

Leave him! He is for Mike.

Yours is the darker path. Let us not speak of it here.

 

[GimpyIntellect]

Leave him! He is for Mike.

Yours is the darker path. Let us not speak of it here.

I will annihilate all my family members, and torch the homes of everyone on my cul-de-sac if those are my orders.

Just tell me what to do. Please, I beg of you.

You are my Charlie Manson.

 

[DesEsseintes]

I will annihilate all my family members, and torch the homes of everyone on my cul-de-sac if those are my orders.

Just tell me what to do. Please, I beg of you.

You are my Charlie Manson.

Soon you will receive a package in your mail. It will contain a DVD of Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Watch it. Observe the humanoids involved carefully. Understand the way they 'think'. Learn their movements.

You know what to do next. Your reward is waiting, and she's getting cold.

 

[subdued_passion]

My retired stepfather hasn't washed his pants in almost 4 years.

He wears them every single day and just lounges around constantly smoking cigarettes.

This is not normal behavior.

So maybe it's time you got him some help (and maybe for yourself too?)?

Mike, don't listen to these voices of reason. Listen to the voices in your head. Specifically this one right here. The one with an English accent you find disturbingly sexy because it's a man's voice.

<Whispers.> You need to kill this man, Mike. He wants you to. His filthy habits are a cry for bloody, veiny, spouty help which only you can provide.

Look at him. Look at him sitting there, all fat and stinking like a foetid anus. And now look at your man's arms, Mike. The arms your mother loves. The ones she used to stroke and tell you that you were her goodtime baby bear before you did that thing you didn't mean to do to her. She's fine, Mike. The doctors are looking after her now. Focus on this fat man. That's it.

Your arms, Mike. Your strong arms could do it. Your strong arms with the strong axe just here. That's it. Think of everything he's ever done to you, Mike. All the smells he's forced on you. And that time after the game when you thought no-one could see. But I saw, Mike. I saw because I always see. Because I'm always here, inside you. Wearing you like a glove. Making you do things. Things you're ashamed of. Things that wake you up sweating in the middle of the night. Dirty, glorious, awful sexy things that make you sick with desire.

Imagine the fat, smelly man without his head, Mike. Imagine his spouty, arterial neck, twitching on those fat shoulders. You could do that, Mike. You could put him out of his stinking, lardy misery. Do it.

Do it.

Don't make me angry again.

*blinks*

I really hope Mike is a troll. If he's really the kind of disturbed person he comes across here I'm sure he'll want to act on your suggestions.

 

[Bob_Bytchin]

My retired stepfather hasn't washed his pants in almost 4 years.

He wears them every single day and just lounges around constantly smoking cigarettes.

This is not normal behavior.

Maybe he'll will the pants to you.

 

[Libsam]

Maybe he'll will the pants to you.

with his mind over matter!

 

[GimpyIntellect]

Soon you will receive a package in your mail. It will contain a DVD of Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Watch it. Observe the humanoids involved carefully. Understand the way they 'think'. Learn their movements.

You know what to do next. Your reward is waiting, and she's getting cold.

I've been watching this DVD quite closely for the last 30 minutes. I've noticed that the Kardashians have a family member that is fat and stinky just like Mike's family.

They call her Khloe.

I shall eliminate her first.

 

[JohnnySavage]

https://scontent-a-lga.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/10408133_799472270089701_1807038746215134653_n.png?oh=c12592f6fa73d943aa5897883aa6d34d&oe=54DC4CC2

Some ass hat posted that on my FB yesterday.

 

[Jennifer]

Mike, don't listen to these voices of reason. Listen to the voices in your head. Specifically this one right here. The one with an English accent you find disturbingly sexy because it's a man's voice.

<Whispers.> You need to kill this man, Mike. He wants you to. His filthy habits are a cry for bloody, veiny, spouty help which only you can provide.

Look at him. Look at him sitting there, all fat and stinking like a foetid anus. And now look at your man's arms, Mike. The arms your mother loves. The ones she used to stroke and tell you that you were her goodtime baby bear before you did that thing you didn't mean to do to her. She's fine, Mike. The doctors are looking after her now. Focus on this fat man. That's it.

Your arms, Mike. Your strong arms could do it. Your strong arms with the strong axe just here. That's it. Think of everything he's ever done to you, Mike. All the smells he's forced on you. And that time after the game when you thought no-one could see. But I saw, Mike. I saw because I always see. Because I'm always here, inside you. Wearing you like a glove. Making you do things. Things you're ashamed of. Things that wake you up sweating in the middle of the night. Dirty, glorious, awful sexy things that make you sick with desire.

Imagine the fat, smelly man without his head, Mike. Imagine his spouty, arterial neck, twitching on those fat shoulders. You could do that, Mike. You could put him out of his stinking, lardy misery. Do it.

Do it.

Don't make me angry again.

Des, if loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right.
Next time tell him heather wants him to do it.