Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Blinded by the Puppy Love

Whenever I see a blind person struggling to walk down the street with their seeing-eye dog, I get a pain in my heart...

Because I feel bad for that poor, damn dog.

It's bad enough it's being pushed and pulled around like a retarded kid with one of those vacuum cleaner toys...
But the blind person puts a sign up on its harness that reads, and I kid you not, DON'T PET ME. I'M WORKING.

Okay, first of all, if I'm working, and someone wanted to come pet me, by all means.
Just because I'm on the clock doesn't mean some light foreplay is going to throw me from finishing these expense reports.
Secondly, unless you were blinded by a chemical explosion in your secret laboratory where you were on the verge of a breakthrough in Artificial Intelligence that is not a Robo-Dog you have there.
"Don't use them too often, or you'll go blind!"

It's a living, breathing dog. And you know what dogs crave above anything else?
Being pet!
(also eating their own defecation, humping my leg at dinner parties, and opening doorways into other dimensions where Mesopotamian demigods await the end of the world)

So I'm sorry that you're down to only four senses (not including that special one you use to see murders in your mind before they actually occur)

But this is a cute dog. If you don't want people wanting to play with him, get some ugly dog that survived being hit by a car.
And I don't care if his ebullience to getting a scratch under the chin sends him across the street against the light with you attached.

It's happening.

"Lost? I'm...I'm actually right behind you, Sir."


Can you even see the irony of that? Oh, wait....

The Fine Art of Nonversation

Nonversation: \ˌnän-vər-ˈsā-shən\ noun 1. A hollow, vacuous form of communication between you and the most vapid person you've ever met at a party before in your entire life.

The subject could be anything: sports, college, drinking, etc. Words are coming out of their mouth, their order succinct and grammatically coherent, and yet, I could find more meaning from a drag Monty Python sketch.

As you jabber on and on like some child's toy that's been wound too tight...

...I can see the seconds of my life ticking away on a giant clock, dying incrementally, moment by moment from your incessant, empty conversation about NOTHING.


You see this table?

It was empty before you arrived. And it continues to be so. You have brought nothing to it.

"Your theories are the worst kind of popular tripe, your methods are sloppy and your conclusions are highly questionable."

I'm only talking to you because I want to get laid with the girl sitting down the bar and looking at you gives me perfect line of sight at her. So you're already going in with a rock around your ankle, at least make the effort to have a personality and hold my attention.

Your about as transparent as the body figures used in advil commercials.

"No, yeah, I'd love to hear about your drive up on the 405. Please, regale me with your oratory gifts."

Friday, February 12, 2010

You Shall Not Pass!!!

Dean Martin sang that everybody loves somebody sometimes. But here's a list of people who you should never bother hitting on because they will never love you anytime.

1. Bartender/Waitress

These should be givens.

You're right, she's cute.

You know who agrees with you? Every asshole in this God damn bar.

And you know what, they're all more successful and more attractive than you are.

Someone mentioned to me recently that you might find a positive situation in this, in that most guys will probably think they're unattainable and not even bother, leaving you with an open net.

Maybe in Kansas, when the only guys in the bar are vitamin deficient to the point where nothing grew in after they lost their baby teeth.

2. Friend of Friend on Facebook Who Always Comments on the Same Post as You

Let it go, my friend.

You might think that the girl w/ the uber-hot facebook profile picture who almost always ends up commenting on your mutual friend's post when you do thinks this is a rapport being built.

She doesn't.

And it's not.

Her post of agreement under yours of "Sam! Totes agree! LOL ROFL" isn't the go ahead to message her independently and try to strike up a conversation.

You are nothing but a 2inch by 1inch thumbnail to her.

You don't actually exist in the real world. To her it's like having a conversation with those computer programs that beat Russian chess champions.

3. Hot, Drunk, Engaged Girl w/ Out-of-town Fiance

Her constant nagging about how much an asshole her fiance is, means nothing.

"He left to go snowboarding with these GURLS in Tahoe for the weekend! Let's get drunk!"

The fiance, the one snowboarding in Tahoe, what she isn't mentioning is that he's a professional snowboarder, with endorsements...

And he drills her deeper than the locator device up Arnold's nose in Total Recall.

You can't even figure out how to get to your action-thriller spec to its climax, let alone a chick who's been banging dudes left and right since 7th grade.

"I know an agent who will read it when I finally finish it...What I mean to say is one could physically read it, if they chose to do so."

To her, the tool that slipped a rock on her finger being gone is a vacation not to fool around with an unemployed jackass who lives in his parent's basement, but a vacation to be a cocktease freely again and drive you mad.

See, what you're forgetting is-Even if she were single, she still wouldn't want you.

4. Elevator Chick from the 13th Floor

Sure, she's gorgeous.

And yes, you let it slide when she fires a "Thank God it's friday, right?" rocket at you because you're just glad she's noticing you.

It's bad enough that you're sweating in front of her because you're nervous someone better looking than you is going to get on between the 7th and 8th floors and disrupt this little danse d'amour you think you got here.

But it usually takes you three strong cocktails and a couple of clandestinely slipped ruhypnols in a girl's drink before you work up the courage to ask for her number.

"We should do this again sometime."

So what do you expect to gain in the 35 seconds it takes for the elevator to get to the lobby? The only way you're even getting a first name is if you lucked out and she's on her way down from a company meeting and had to wear a nametag.

So either let it go or follow her down to her car and "accidentally" ram into her when she's pulling out to prolong the conversation.

"We should exchange insurance info...and each other's turn ons/turn offs."

5. Cool Girls int he Apt. Down the Hall

Yeah, they are cool, aren't they? Always throwing "mixers," the perennial sound of their blender stirring up margaritas for drinks on the balcony, the effervescent giggling that follows that zinger you tell one of them as you pass on the stairs.'re also forgetting the steady stream of douchey guys in baggy jeans and flip flops that go in and out of their place frequently enough that you'd think they were running a brothel in there.

Which is too bad, b/c paying for it is the only way you're going to get hot girls that cool.

6. Wanna-be Model/Actress Waiting in Your Office Lobby

Her=Unsuccessful but uber-hot girl whose agent cashed in a favor w/ an exec at your office to get them a meeting.
You=Front Desk Guy w/ an ironic Star Wars shirt on under your blazer

"Some Like it Hoth."

It doesn't matter that her biggest gig to date was as background in a youtube sketch with less than 80 views.

As far as she's concerned, that's like winning an Oscar compared to what you'll ever accomplish.

And that witty banter of yours as she waits for her ain't working.

The chuckle she gives when you make a joke about LA traffic...that's called pity.

"Yeah, I mean, why call it the 5? They should call it...the 5mph."

Here's what you should do. Take a mental image, Or, if you're like me, an actual image with that pen camera you keep on you at all times should you drive past your ex-girlfriend's house on your way home... lock your bedroom door, open up that image, and do what you do best. B/c that's as close as you're going to get to her.

Especially after that restraining order is signed off on by a Judge.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Harvey Two-Facebook

I wasn't going to originally, but let me just discuss with you my opinion of facebook Doppelganger week just briefly with a few key talking points...

1. Quit Fucking W/ Me.
Now as I sneak past my restraining order and troll through my ex-girlfriend's facebook page for new location information under the guise of a fake profile in her network, I'm inundated with all these really attractive friends of hers in thumbnails.

"Hot! Let me just get NASA to redirect the Hubble telescope to be sure."

So now I'm like 'Whoa, I could definitely see myself developing an unhealthy obsession with THAT girl.' So I click her profile and.....

Yes, Admiral Ackbar, you're right. Because it turns out, she's not a drugged-out, sex-in gutters years Drew Barrymore-lookalike...

Just your nasty looking friend who looks nothing like Drew but more like a post-op Tranny who used a cheap Mexican doctor in Rosarito to do the job.

2. The Shit, Cut it.
Simply by writing "I've never seen it, but people tell me all the time that I look like her," promptly as you post a photo of Natalie Portman doesn't make you seem any less vain or unattractive. Your shameful chicanery just proves how ignorant you are that you'd think such a transparent ruse would actually get people to stop and say, 'well, she's such a humble girl to not see that herself that way.'

That sentence would be factual if you the word 'I' was switched with 'People', 'Me' with 'Myself' and 'All the time' with 'while shoving handfuls of red velvet cake into my mouth inbetween sessions of self-mutilation.'

3. Where are all the ugly celeb lookalikes?
Apparently every girl I know is a spitting image of Liv Tyler, Anne Hathaway, Nicole Kidman, Rachel Weisz, and Amanda Seyfriend.

And yet, I have not seen anyone compare themselves to the Heather Matarrazos..

The Cherry Jones...

The Kathy Griffins...

And I know you do look like them, because we've discussed this cattily behind your back. Just like we've also equated you to being the spitting image of the Crimes-Against-God failed Ripley clones from Alien Resurrection.

"Kill me! Also, here's my evite to "Lost My Phone...AGAIN. Plz send digits!!!"

4. The week is over.

And yet...this tomfoolery continues unabated.

Do you know what a week is?

No, that's an apple pie. Put that apple pie d--Okay, or just shove it into your mouth and eat it. Whatever.

My point is, it's time to move on. You've indulged yourself with enough fantasy to fill one of those 2,000 page convoluted Dune sequels I can never wrap my head around.

"Kate Hudson? Really? Yeah, I mean, I guess a little, huh? I get that all the time."

Just be yourself and let the world see you for who you really are and not conform to the standards of beauty impaled on us by society.

Ehhh, on second thought, let's go back to the poorly lit, awkward angled profile pic of your head that hides the bad skin, double chin, sagging gut, and FUPA that you've been using for years. Okay, Morlock?