Tag Archives: being friendly is overrated



This card that I made sums up my feelings pretty well.


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you’ve got problems

When I was a sophomore in high school, the Internet was very new. Only my friends with parents who had great jobs had this mystical thing that, according to the legend, had unlimited amounts of porn on it.

If porn was my number one concern when the Internet hit, chat rooms were easily the second. Luckily, my friend J.P. had a computer and his dad had an AOL account, so when we bored, we’d go onto chat rooms and talk with people.

Now, you have to understand something about J.P. and I – we were not what one would call Mature or even Okay In The Head, and really, we still aren’t. So when we would go onto these AOL chat rooms, we weren’t going on to make friends and engage in new and exciting things.

No, we were going on to fuck with people.

The most memorable time was when we logged on and started telling people that they sucked. We fired off a “You all suck!” salvo to test the waters, then waited. Nothing.

Then, of course, we pushed the envelope. We decided that all caps was in order and shouted at the Internet world “WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH LOSERS???”

Well, that got some people’s attention.  Right away people started firing back at us, everything from the age old tactic of calling us “bitches” to pointing out the obvious – that we were in the chat room too, and also yelling nonsense, so that made us the biggest losers of all.

Of course none of that worked and only provoked us.

We then opted for “We’re going to kill all of you and your dog!” To which several people inevitably replied that they did not, in fact, even own a dog.  They must have underestimated our collective brilliance however, because we immediately yelled back “YES YOU DO!!!”

Amazing does not even begin to describe it.

We got booted out of the chat room right after that, and J.P.’s dad’s AOL got suspended because of that fateful day.

I can’t help but wonder what his dad thought when hearing that his son and his friend had yelled at people in a chat room about killing people’s imaginary dogs. I bet it was something laced with swear words and disappointment.

Now that we’re older and the Internet is not such A Thing anymore, J.P. and I have changed our ways, but only slightly. Because we’ll still kill imaginary dogs, and if we’re pushed, hamsters too.


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one and the same

Eventually, someday, I want to have kids.

No, I’m not afraid to say that because I’m thirty.  I’m supposed to be talking about this kind of stuff instead of  how Batman doesn’t really need those pointy ears on top of his mask, he probably just thinks it looks cool.

I guess I shouldn’t say “kids” though, I should say “boys.”  I want a couple little Chrises running around the world so that everyone forgets about me and when I die they say, “Well,  Chris, he was a complete asshole.  But his boys?  Fine men, just the best.  Why, the other day I saw one of them offer his last three M&M’s to a friend!”

Those are the kinds of boys I’m going to raise.  At least that’s what I think anyway.

The kids will be fine, but as far as me relating to other parents, that’s where things will probably go awry.  This is because I don’t think I’ll be very good at all the political things that come with having kids in school.

At the first Parent Teacher Meet-up, I’ll probably be more concerned with when the meeting ends as opposed to what the teacher is like and meeting other parents there.  Unless there’s free beer or something.  Then I’d be very Concerned With Things.

When little Wyatt (Don’t you steal that name! Don’t do it!) plays in his first football game, because he’s a star athlete of course, and some of the parents ask me if I can man the snack shop, I don’t think there’s anyway I could not laugh in their faces before telling them, “Maybe you should, since your kid kind of sucks.”

It’s moments like that when I think I’d have the most problems.

Of course this is why I have Ari, to be the brains, and eventually the voice of this imaginary family.  Because lord knows if I’m left to my own devices, we’ll have no adult friends.

But I bet all the kids will think I’m awesome.


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Last night on my way home from work my headphones for my iPhone broke, which means I have been commuting without my music and that means I’m slowly losing my mind.

Trying to navigate your daily life in New York without your music is like going to see a Wayans brothers movie – if you care about your mental health at all, you just don’t do it.

Because I don’t have my music, I get to listen to The Sounds Of The City while on the train, and believe me the sounds are not pretty.

Anyone who doesn’t live in the city, imagine for just one minute that when you climbed into your car to go to and from work, it was jam packed with complete strangers, some of whom have less respect for deodorant than you do.  

That is what life in New York is like.  

Every second of my life I am surrounded by strangers, no matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing – there is always someone else right next to me.

That’s why I’m not friendly.  That’s why I don’t say “Hello Sam!” to Sam’s dumbass every time I see him. If I tried to be friendly to every single person I came in contact with I would end up killing myself.

And that’s why having music is so vital to making it through my day.

Just last night I had to listen to one guy tell his friend or coworker or whoever-the-fuck that he lived close to the 14th street stop on the L.  And oh my was his friend jealous!  In fact, would you like to know what he said???  I bet you do!  He told his friend, “That’s sweet man.  So it only takes you about ten minutes to get to the office?  That’s so much faster than me.”  Isn’t that just great???

So now because I don’t have my fucking headphones that cost more than I can admit without you looking at me with Judging Eyes, I know that this dude who lives near 14th street also lives close to his office.

Fucking fantastic!

Of course I don’t have time to get new headphones today, so I can’t wait to hear everyone else’s conversations on my way home tonight.  Maybe one of them will be about a crazy dream someone had last night!  Or better yet, someone can talk about how their kid did in school today.  Yes. That would be just great.

People make me so fucking happy!


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rules of engagement

In the last month or so I’ve been attending a lot of birthday celebrations, and they all typically start out with a large dinner.

This is exciting for me because eating out is one of my favorite things to do.  I’m doing all the same things I do at home – drinking excessive amounts of wine, having semi-intelligent conversation and eating myself into a food coma – only I’m somewhere else!  It’s like a vacation away from the table at my apartment.

Most of these dinner celebrations that I go to go well, and that’s because I am keen to the fact that when going to a large dinner, one thing you must always remember is that it’s all about where you sit.

If you choose the wrong place, you could spend the entire dinner talking to some dude you barely know about how much his pants cost when your good friends are at the opposite end of the table engrossed in an argument over who would win in a race, Superman or The Flash.

You will curse yourself over and over again, wondering why, when you had the chance to properly sidle up next to your friends, you were checking out the menu with all the “funny drink names.”

Then, as you sit there and try and drink yourself into liking the couple of people you’ve been seated around, you must watch in pain as everyone else laughs and laughs and isn’t everything in life just so great!

You make the wrong move and the dinner is hell.  Just like that.

Which is why I follow a few simple rules to make sure my Dinners With Lots Of People Including Some I Don’t Know go well.

First, I scope the scene.  As soon as everyone arrives, and we stand around all awkward because we haven’t started drinking yet, I am on the look out for People I Don’t Know.  I then mark them in my head by saying, “I don’t know that dude.”

This is very scientific.

Next, and most importantly, I make my move when we are casually entering the restaurant.  This is the best time for the move, because everyone is thinking that they are just having dinner with some friends, when in fact you are deciding between life and death.

Finally, if the previous step does not work, I resort to using mind games.  As we near the table, and I realize that I am dreadfully out of position, I will say something like, “Oh, that light is bright.”  When it isn’t even bright! Some sucker will always take the bait and you can switch seats with him and thus enjoy dinner like it was supposed to be.

I beg you, reread those steps.

Read them, know them and most of all – dear god – use them.

If none of that works, I have to tell you, all is lost.  Your best bet is to vomit on someone and leave, because that dinner is not going to be fun, it is just going to be one more Moment With Others that you regret.


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I try to be a social person as much as possible.  I mean, as much as possible for me, which isn’t very much because I tend to be cranky, cynical and maybe sometimes say things to people that hurts their feelings.

While I’m out I always have a good time, talking about this and that, until it is time to leave, because I do not like goodbyes.  Not in the “Oh parting is such sweet sorrow” kind of way, in the “I’m too lazy to say bye” kind of way.

This only really happens when I’m out with a bunch of people.  The night is going great, I’ve just killed the room with a joke about backward underwear and then suddenly it hits me – time to go home.

It’s like a switch goes off in my brain, and I have to leave at that exact moment.

Instead of acting like A Normal Person and saying a quick “see you later” to all who are with me, I simply bolt for the nearest exit, disappearing into the night like a crackhead stealing a pair of socks.

My good friends know this about me, so they are ready for it.  When I talk to them the next day, they never question why one second they were talking to me and the next second I was gone.

Because that’s what I do.

I hate saying goodbye to every single person that is with me, and my thinking is, if they’re really my friend, I’ll see them again – so what’s the point?

Goodbyes are always awkward.  You have to sit there and discuss why you’re leaving, and when you’ll get together again, and blah, blah, please don’t ever wear those pants again, blah, blah, blah.

I really can’t stand it.

So to avoid all of that, I just leave.  I have been known to yell an, “I’m out!” as I bolt for the door, and I think that is a nice thing that I do.

Now that I’ve told you that about me, don’t be surprised if we ever meet and I disappear on you.  It’s not because I wasn’t having fun or you aren’t a cool person, it’s simply because I hate saying goodbyes and I’d rather just leave than have to deal with them.

So, I guess this is the end of the post.


Talk you later.

Yeah, sure, tomorrow I’ll be posting again, we’ll get together then.



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please hang up and try again

I think I pretty much have the technological world figured out.

I know.

It’s not very apparent on my blog because the layout of this thing is about as interesting as a Creed reunion, but the only reason that it’s lame is because I’m lazy.

As far as other things, like TVs and phones and that kind of stuff, I have it down pat.  I even have the iPhone, which although it works only about three percent of the time, is about as technologically advanced as phones get.

Some people, though, still don’t get technology.

I don’t really fault them for it, because sometimes gadgets can be frustrating and really, people who don’t get technology are extremely entertaining.

My favorite is the guy who speaks into his cell phone like the person he’s talking to is actually inside his phone.

You know what I’m talking about, we’ve all seen them.  And every time it’s a sight to behold.

The person holding the phone always has a puzzled look on his face.  He’s staring at the phone – held at arms length – listening intently and all the while looking like someone just asked him to explain why some people are Republicans.

Then, when it’s his turn to speak, he of course screams his reply into the phone.  He doesn’t hold the phone to his ear, he just holds the mic part close to his mouth and shouts about how “Mary never knows when to shut her mouth!”

I never understand this part, but it’s what happens every time.

To me, if you’re convinced the person you’re talking to really is stuck in your phone, whispering is really the better strategy.  Why yell at the person crammed into Tiny Phone World when there is no doubt he’s already annoyed at being stuck in there in the first place? His TV must be the size of a grain of rice, yelling at him won’t get you anywhere.

But that’s what people do.

They yell, then hold the phone way back and wait for the man stuck in there to yell back, which of course he does because he’s pissed at them for yelling at him.

I wonder sometimes if I should explain to these people that there really isn’t a man in their phone and maybe they should consider just writing a letter instead of acting like an idiot, but I never do.

It’s much more fun to sit back, make fun of them in my head and then blog about it the next day.


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I love Fridays.

Not just for the fact that it’s the start of the weekend when anything can happen, from drinking too much and partying to drinking too much and sitting on the couch, but because it’s an instant conversation piece.

Fridays are something that you can always bring up in the office, and feel safe that the person opposite you will respond pleasantly.

The weather is another great fall back conversation.  Remark on how it “Looks like rain” and you can slip away safely, back to your work/blogs/porn.

But when it comes to classics, Friday Lines trump all.

When someone you don’t feel like talking to approaches and asks how things are going, you can always bust one out, “Well, it’s Friday, can’t complain!”  And safely avoid actually having to think.

The Friday Line is always lame and terrible, but trust me, it’s a lot safer than the things you’d rather say.

“Hey Steve, good to see you’re still wearing that shirt even though the pit stains have cemented.”

“Oh hi Barbara, yeah, I love that you never actually do any work yet somehow still have a job.”

“No, Carl, really, I think it’s great that you fart all the time and people think it’s me.”

“Hey, don’t come too close there Sue, I drank tequila last night and your nasty perfume is making my stomach notice your Poor Decision.”

“Looking great Laura – that skirt really shows off those cankles.”

“Yeah Jim, I feel much better knowing that you got that boil removed off your back.”

“See you tomorrow Dan, though I hope I don’t, one more conversation with you about the feeding habits of deer and I may have to gut you.”

This is the reason the Friday line is the best decision.  It keeps you out of these kinds of conversations, which will only lead to hurt feelings and maybe the end of your employment.

Though that might be a good thing, seeing as how we all know Carl is never going to stop.


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it’s for the best


Here we are again.

I see you have another movie coming out.  Yes, I’m proud of you, but no, I’m not going to see it.


C’mon Ben.  Let’s not do this again.  We did this after Meet The Parents.  I told you, I just don’t think you’re very funny.  Actually, what I said was, and I am reiterating this again:  “You really fucking suck.”

I know, I know, your movies always make tons of money, and believe me, that makes me happy for you.  It’s great that people pay money to see you play the exact same dumb ass character in every single movie you make.  Hey – look at Adam Sandler – he’s made a career that way too!

What – no Ben – no!  I don’t want to hear about how different Tropic Thunder is going to be.

Because it’s not.

You know it’s not and so do I.

What do you do in this movie Ben?  Let me guess.  Do you somehow manage to get yourself tangled in an awkward situation and then the wild and crazy hijinks ensue?

You do???

Well – I’m shocked!

Oh jesus man, if you do that damn Zoolander face one more time, I swear to god – I don’t fucking care about “Blue Steel” dude – I just don’t!  Yes, it was funny the first time, but not anymore!  It’s time to move on!

Look, we’re friends, right?  So I can tell you this and it won’t hurt your feelings, right?  You’re terrible.  You’re not funny and really never have been. You’re also one of the worst actors of all time, and if you keep starring in these fucking dumb movies, you’ll dethrone Keanu as the worst ever.

Yeah, well, I know.  But I thought Point Break was pretty sweet, so that gives him points over you if I needed a tiebreaker.

I know, as they say, the truth hurts.  It’s going to be alright buddy, just keep your head up and try and think about others before you make another movie that makes people cry inside.


Oh, yeah, sure man.  I’ll still come over Friday for Pizza and Pop Night.


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not worth my time

I never really got into the whole Where’s Waldo craze – and not because I don’t see the allure of the books. Mainly because I find Waldo to be kind of an asshole.

Think about what it must be like to be friends with that guy.

You’re hanging out, having a good time, you turn your back for a second and the dude is gone.

Then you spend the rest of your day asking people if they’ve seen a tall, lanky guy who tends to just stand around in one crowded-ass place with a goofy smile on his face.

And if you’re not already with him, just imagine trying to get in contact with Waldo.


Waldo doesn’t care about anyone but Waldo.

He’s traveling the world, having the time of his life, and you’re blowing up his cell, leaving voicemails that grow increasingly more angry as the hours pass by.

7:42 PM: “Yo, Waldo, my man – it’s Frank.  Me and some other dudes are heading out to the bars tonight, give me a call, trying to see if you wanna roll.”

9:58 PM: “Waldo.  It’s Frank.  Are you coming or not man?”

11:23 PM: “Dude – you fucking suck.  Where are you, the Great Barrier Reef or some stupid fucking place like that again?  Great. I’m not coming after you this time man – I’m not doing it!  Fuck you man.  Fuck you.”

Not only does Waldo always make you come find him – he always wears the same damn clothes.

Some jeans, a striped red and white long sleeve shirt and a red and white winter hat.

Every single day.

Even when you have to fly to Egypt to find his dumbass – there he is, wearing that outfit in the hot sun. What’s he trying to do – be funny?

I don’t think it’s funny.  Not at all.

I think he’s an annoying fucker who deserves to stay lost.

Where’s Waldo?

I don’t know – but I guarantee you he’s being a bitch.

(The contest is over – so go please check out the Win Something! page for all the great stories that I received.)


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