Some of Chicago's finest bloggers, all of which can be found at theliarsclub.blogspot.com, got together at a watering hole, along with the out of town I'm Not, and we played a board game called Mary Them, Dump Them, and Do Something Else BORING to Them - Only we changed it to Marry 'Um, Kill 'Um, or F@%k 'Um.
We all had our own strategies, and it's bazaar when we all agree, especially when it comes to which person should be MURDERED. I would usually figure out first, who I want to marry, then, who I want to kill, and finally, just F' the remaining person.
It was decided that we should all pick a card from the game and blog our choices, and my card read Mr. T., Mr. Clean, and Mr. Rogers.
Marry 'Um: Mr. Rogers. He's organized, he's got a cool house with cool stuff, and he has a punctual mail man. He even has a trolley that can take you to the World of Make Believe, or whatever. This led us to say what we'd do to those people, and we all wanted to kill that crotchety, old bitch in the Ferris Wheel thing, and bang the holy hell out of the little cat lady who said meow every couple of words, which would in this case be like, "Give it to me, meow. That's the spot, Gancer, meow." Bottom line, you might tire of Mr. Rogers singing while he changes sweaters and shoes for the 4th or 5th time of the day, but you just know he'd be super-nice, and one heck of a swell hubby.
Kill 'Um: Mr. Clean. I have nothing against Mr. Clean, but I just don't know him as well as the other two fellas. I grew up with Mr. Rogers, and Mr. T. is not only from Chicago, but he was Clubber Lang in Rocky AND B.A. Baracus on the A-Team. I mean, hell, I played A-Team in recess, and although I was Hannibal, their fearless leader, I always respected Mr. T.'s no-nonsense attitude and seemingly limitless threshold for gold jewelry worn at once. All I know about Mr. Clean is he's bald, and he cleans floors. That's it. So, sadly, he must die.
F@%K 'Um: That leaves us with Mr. T. This is awkward, since I'm a straight male, but someone has got to get f@%ked, and he's all that's left. Well, he's fit . . . He has bodyguard experience, so he might be able to protect me if I were F'ing him . . . Maybe he'd lend me some jewelry . . . Please don't make me F' Mr. T!!!!!! Well, I guess it beats getting F'd BY Mr. T., which would be far more painful and traumatizing.
Okay, seven readers, where are you casting your votes, and do you want to throw in a new set of names?