There’s something very sinister going on within the internet, and I’m here to expose it. It’s time for us to fight back. First, it gives the impression that women who are on the brink of giving birth to a child should be strapped into dungarees and made paint an entire house by themselves (and flippin’ well smile while doing it). NOW it appears that no pretty young lady in any stock photo of a bathroom is safe.
I’m talking, of course, about the fact that women are apparently not allowed sit in baths without being flanked by as many open flames as possible. It’s hardly HER idea – I mean, think of the logistics. You don’t fool me, Internet. SO MANY QUESTIONS…..
1: Are they lit before she gets in?
Why would she do that to herself?? She’ll be trying not to burn her fanny off while getting a naked leg over these open flames and the rim of a bath, stepping barefoot into what is essentially a home-made hot skating rink.
2: How the fuck does she get out afterwards?
I have no answer to this. I find it hard enough, what with being on the petite side. It’s like trying to scale The Wall from Game of Thrones.
3: Does she sit in the bath and try with all her might to blow out a few hundred candles all around her?
Not at all. Sure, she’s only a woman. She’d be all dizzy and faint from all the relaxing pretty smelly things she douses herself in after a hard day trying to drink water without spilling it all over her face or while trying to eat a salad alone without laughing. Also, and this is the most important thing:
4: WHO THE FUCK IS TAKING THE PICTURES AND WHY AREN’T THEY SAVING THESE POOR DAMP GIRLS??
So many victims; unnamed, unsaved, their skin wrinkling like raisins while they sit stewing in their own filth waiting for those bastard candles to burn themselves out. Rumour has it they survive on a diet of suds, face flannels and the slimy skins from those old Musk bath beads lying around the edge of the bath behind the taps from gift baskets that their granny gave them when they got all those points in their Leaving Cert in 1997.
This is a gallery dedicated to all those poor souls, fates unknown, whose suffering is now emblazoned across the realm of the cyber-world for all eternity. Vaya Con Dios, pretty ladies.
She’s not far away, she’s up close, and she’s shrinking.
Havin’ a mad laugh, so she is. IT’S BEHIND YOU…
That better be a rescue manual.
Somebody tell this eejit that she has a fighting chance. DON’T GET IN YOU FOOL…
Sticking your knee out won’t save you love, you’re basically potential lady-stew…
First known pic of The Bath Arsonist. WHO ARE YOU AND WHO DO YOU WORK FOR??
There was a woman in this bath, but she was boiled into oblivion…God rest her…
This is not romance, this is a murder-suicide pact. She’s not laughing, she’s trying to get out…
Her hair is just kindling at this point. Seriously.
Silly bitch. Alcohol and an open flame? Asking for it, so she is…
She’s not sleeping. She’s catatonic with fright.
“Oh my, what a romantic death trap you have created…”
She’s fainted with the fear. SOMEBODY, PLEASE SAVE HER…
She’s awake but hasn’t seen the ring of fire around her. Poor pet.
Looks like somebody remembered where the fire exit is…
That poor one guy met a grisly end, lavender-style.
See? It’s only the good looking young wans that get into these scrapes. Not a candle in sight. Gowl.
No candles, but I find this image disturbing as fuck. It’s like somebody gave the girl from The Grudge a voucher for a Spa break.