A couple weeks ago, my roommate went to the shooting range with her boyfriend for some target practice. She was so proud of the fact that her cute little pink bullets shot the scary man picture on the hay bale, that she brought it home as a sort of trophy to show off her shooting prowess. Since then, it's been on our refrigerator as her proud accomplishment, much as a third grader slaps up a stellar spelling test with a check-plus-plus score on it. "Look Mom! Aren't you proud?! Me is smart!"
Never mind that it's blocking my magnetic '08 Dodger schedule. Let's find the good in the situation. When I come to the refrigerator in boredom for food that I don't really want or need, this is the picture that greets me:
I have to say, seeing this is much more effective than what other women do to stop themselves from raiding the fridge and going on a binge...pictures of ridiculously fat women that insult them or swimsuit models to inspire them. This just scares the hell out of me and makes me run the other way.
Thankfully, the visibility of my bitchin' Dwight K. Schrute magnet had not been compromised. Otherwise it would have been an all-out war.
*Please notice the proportion of big buff perp in comparison to his gun. The gun looks to be about the size of those cheap waterguns you win as a consolation prize at a church carnival at the 'go fish' booth. If only the gun was clear plastic and hot pink, then the lameness would have been complete.