Tag Archives: I’m smart

the truth will set you free

With the economy in the crapper, it seems like the subway platforms here in the city are getting more and more crowded with people singing and playing instruments for money.

This strategy is a flawed one of course, because 1) No one who sings in the subway is good and 2) Because they sound like cats dying, no one feels compelled to give them any money.

There are the few people that are so mad they actually give them money in hopes that this will make them stop singing, but this never works.

I don’t understand why the subway panhandlers don’t just change their overall strategy altogether.

What they need to do is offer people that pass by random tips about life – that taken separately will be entirely vague, but in the end make sense in some way to each person that hears them.

Here are some phrases that the beggars could offer up which would inevitably strike a chord with someone:

“That guy just didn’t get the joke.  It wasn’t that it wasn’t funny – it was just too smart.”

“It’s okay – I like Keith Urban too.”

“Her sister is annoying.”

I thought that shirt looked great.”

“Maybe next time you’ll drink even more – that’ll show them.”

“What were you supposed to do?  Not touch her boob?”

The list of things they could say is practically never ending.  They just need to utter some sparadoc thought, wait for someone to identify with it, and reap the rewards.

I’m holding out though, because until I hear someone say, “Your blog is going to make you rich and famous and Michael Jackson is writing a comeback album all about it that in no way could be interpreted as him liking to touch little boys,” no one is getting my 37 cents.

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a healthier you

It’s winter again, and with that comes people freaking out over going outside with their hair wet.  Every winter I hear it: “Oh no, my hair’s wet, I’m going to get sick!”

No.

No you’re not.

You get sick from germs, okay.  Germs.  You remember Bald Man sneezing behind you while you were waiting on line to buy that sweater (blue does not look good on you, by the way)?  That’s how you get sick.

You remember Hacking Old Lady in the elevator yesterday, who may or may not have been checking you out which may or may not have turned you on in an “I think I have problems” kind of way?  That’s how you get sick.

It’s not from your hair being wet.

You want to take a shower and step out into the freezing winter day with nothing but your socks on?  Go ahead.  You won’t get sick from it.  You might, depending on how many Fried Foods Tuesdays you’ve enjoyed, scar people who see you for life, but you won’t catch a cold.

If you really don’t want to get sick this year, how about washing your hands once in awhile?  Maybe instead of not washing up after you take a piss because you have to rush back to your work computer to see if anyone wants to gchat with you (they see the green “available” dot and they are not taking the bait dude, let it go) you take a minute and scrub those hands.

It doesn’t matter though. You’re probably reading this and thinking that it makes sense, but you still don’t believe me, and that’s fine.

But just remember, I’m a guy who you’ve never met who also writes a blog, and that makes me an Expert About Everything.

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not what i had in mind

I try to appear intelligent as often as possible.

I read books – even ones about Smart Things.

I keep up on politics so when I’m at parties I can say, “Frankly, I just don’t think our current economic system was built to withstand more trickle down theories.”

Even though I’m pretty sure this doesn’t makes sense.

But usually the person I say this to is so confused that I have just enough time to escape and grab Another Drink – which comforts me.  Because alcohol makes me Feel Better About Myself.

I do many other things to make people think I’m smart, but most of the time I do things that make people think that I’m dumb.

Like this morning.

I was getting dressed after my shower in the gym while trying desperately to avoid the sprays of the guy a couple lockers down who thought that covering his entire body in Old Spice is A Good Thing, when I reached down to grab my towel and wipe my face.

I grabbed the towel and dried my face, then put it back down.  This was when I noticed the guy at the next locker was staring at me.

I had used his towel.

I looked at the Wrong Towel, then up at The Upset Man, and stammered, “Uh, oh shit.  Sorry dude, I thought that was mine.”

He stared at me in disbelief for a minute – then laughed and said, “Hey, it’s okay, I was just gonna tell you that you might not want to wipe your face with that.”

Perfect.

I had just wiped my face with another man’s towel.

And really, if you want to break it down, this meant that I had just wiped his balls on my face.

Because men have balls and they wipe them with their towels after the shower because they tend to stay wet for some weird reason.

Needless to say, The Upset Man now knows that I’m Not Smart.

And the rest of the day I’ll be walking around the office thinking that if I was going to make fun of myself I’d point at my face and say, “Ha-ha, look at Balls Face!”

Seems about right.

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in summary

Man Weekend did not pan out exactly as I thought it would.

I know – you’re shocked.

Instead of roaming the apartment like a wild boar, here’s a small look into what I did do.

  • In an effort to further distance myself from Real People and further entrench myself among Internet People, I signed up for Twitter. I have absolutely no idea how to work it, so anyone that can help, please email me. I do know that I must have more people “following” me than those that I am “following.” This will make me seem more popular. So if you too have Twitter, twat me at bksurviving. I’ve always wanted to type “twat,” and now I have. Twice. I should note that I signed up for Twitter while drinking, which as we all know, usually leads to Making Good Decisions.
  • I went to the Diesel store in Union Square. I did this because 1) I enjoy spending an obscene amount of money on clothes and 2) My favorite pair of jeans is no longer made by Diesel, so I wanted to ask someone there what style it was so I could find them online. The latter involved me having to do a little twirl for a male employee there. He needed to see the back pockets. I wasn’t comfortable with this, but I will do anything to wear Cool Clothes. I also gave him my number. He said he’ll call.
  • I drank a ton last night. Way too much. The drinking started as it usually does – alone, with thoughts of despair. Kidding! I was alone though. Well, Jack was with me, but he wasn’t in the partying mood. I went out, made fun of the typical amount of people and then over-tipped a cabbie on the way home. Of course.

Now, because of My love For Alcohol, my brain is not happy with me.

I don’t think I’m going to make it.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to die.

If anybody wants my Playstation, just let Ari know.

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here comes the groom

As a man in a Long Term Relationship, I realize that there will come a day – a day that has not been set yet – that I must get married.

And I’m fine with this.

Really, any dude in a Long Term Relationship is already married, we just don’t have the paperwork yet.

The thing that I’m not fine with, is having to wear a ring.

I don’t want a ring.  Why?  Oh, I don’t know – maybe because I’m not a woman or in an Emo band, so I don’t wear jewelry.

Why should I start wearing some once I get married?

I see the looks on newly wifed-up dudes, they’re not happy with having to wear a ring.

Me: [Looking at the ring] “So, what, you gotta wear that thing like all the time right?”

Wifed-up Dude: [Looks down at the ring, then at the floor] “Uh, yeah.”

[Silence]

[My brain is thinking]

Me: [With a confused expression] “Even when..”

Wifed-up Dude: [Cutting me off, still looking at the floor] “All the time man.  All the time.”

Me: [Still confused] “Well.  That just doesn’t seem right to me.”

[Wifed-up Dude looks up at me, shrugs his shoulders, and accepts defeat]

Of course me being Resourceful and Full Of Solutions, I know what to do about this – I’ll have a card.

It’s perfect right?

It’ll be a card that has all my vital information on it, my name, address and a photo of myself.  Then in bold print it’ll state at the top “This Man Is Married.  Please Report Any Funny Business.”  Of course the number to report Incidents to will be Ari’s.

Also, the card will be laminated, because we all know that things that are laminated are Very Important.

This is what I want – a simple card to carry in my money clip saying that I’m married – not a ring.

I’ve suggested this idea to Ari multiple times, but for some reason, she is Not Receptive and tends to give me the “you’ve said something stupid again” look whenever I bring it up.

But I haven’t given up on it, because I think this is a Good Idea, and I never give up on those.

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sweet solutions

Today was one of my co-worker’s last day, so we celebrated by getting him a box of donuts. It took the awkwardness off The Final Day by having everyone focus on increasing their stomach size.

With my mouth full of powdered glory, I could not help but think about all the ills our world faces – and how easily donuts could solve them all.

We are, after all, an Unhappy Society. Why not cheer up it up with a little creme filling?

Imagine the results.

You think we couldn’t lure ol’ Bin Laden out of hiding with a glazed donut, made special just for him?

And I promise you we would’ve been able to keep Bush’s dumb ass out of office if we had just offered a box of Boston Creme’s to him.

George: [Intensely looking at the box of donuts] “You mean to tell me I get that whole box, just to not be president?”

Me: “That’s right.”

[I hold up the box, because he seems to be squinting at it. I quickly realize this is just his normal expression, and lower it again.]

George: [Now confused] “I get the donuts inside the box too right, not just the box?”

Me: [Sadly] “Yes George. The donuts are yours too. Just leave us all alone.”

George: [Snatching the box out of my hands like a little boy] “Done! Yee-haw – I swindled America again!”

Imagine the smaller problems in our lives that donuts would help solve too.

Instead of having to come up with Something Clever To Say when first introduced to new people, once the introductions are done, quickly shove a jelly donut in your mouth. Presto! No one expects you to talk now! That’d be silly!

Donuts are sweet, glazed-covered pieces of heaven that make problems disappear faster than you can say, “My stomach doesn’t feel too good.”

So what do you say? First box is on me.

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