Hey bitches. I can't believe it's been about five weeks since I've even had the chance to sit down and fingertip-vomit all my thoughts about stupid shit to y'all. This whole "having a job" and "working hard at it" thing is really getting in the way of things I'd rather be doing. Such a ridiculous inconvenience employment is... Anyway, what I'm getting at here is that I'm temporarily putting my newfound "shorter and sweeter" approach to these posts on hold because I have a lot of shit to say, and I won't be around again likely until after the New Year what with all the holiday shit coming up. So, either settle in for a while, or take this one piece-meal and take down a little bit every day during this, the last work week before Christmas, during which time I know you're not going to be doing shit by way of productivity anyway... Alright, time to get merry. Here we go:
I. Cheesy Anecdotes are Easily Trumped by Cheesier Anecdotes
I find that many times, serious discussions/debates/arguments/etc. often tend to progress from the specific to the general. While the majority of the discussion typically involves a back-and-forth regarding the details of a particular subject matter, said discussion usually ends with one of the members spewing out some hackneyed nugget of conventional wisdom, some cheesy or tacky generalization that wants to be comprehensive but ultimately is really just so stupid that it destroys the integrity of the conversation to that point. And many times, these intellectually stunting cliches begin with "Yeah, well..." You know the kind of bullshit I'm talking about.
For example, if you're talking about the economy these days and how difficult working life is/how expensive everything is, etc., someone may very well drive the dialogue into the ground by saying, "Yeah, well, there's no such thing as a free lunch I guess." You get the idea. "Yeah, well, you can't always have your cake and eat it too" is another popular one ('Are they all somehow food related?' No, that's just a coincidence).
Thankfully, the amount of frustration these mindless little quips cause me is trumped only by the amount of humor I derive from taking them a step further. Instead of just politely nodding at the generality and leaving the subject lie, I think it's a fun exercise to either build on it, or perhaps even better, negate it using equally goofy metaphorical language. Because nobody ever does that, and so when I do, it's completely unexpected, most times catching people off-guard and leaving them at a loss, which is hilarious. And of course, speaking in silly adages while simultaneously trying to appear profound or intellectually abstract is a funny concept as well.
To illustrate with those same examples, if someone halted a conversation I was enjoying with the ole' "There's no such thing as a free lunch," I'd say something like "Well that shouldn't be a problem if you make sure to eat a big breakfast, ya know?" I'm not even sure what that would mean; I guess it could symbolize the benefit in preparing for inconveniences ahead of time, I dunno. Whatever the case, the other person will likely be surprised, and will just as likely ask me, "What do you mean by that exactly?" And from there, it doesn't matter what my explanation is, because I've already succeeded in keeping the conversation going right after that motherfucker tried to bury it. See that? Boom, fuck him. I win.
Additionally, it's entertaining to carefully observe the look on people's faces when you offer one of these - hmmm, what should I call them?... - counter-cliches, or "co-cli's" for short (has a nice ring to it). More often than not, before they ask you "what you mean, exactly," they'll have a seriously perplexed look on their face, followed by a moment when their eyebrows straighten, and their head and eyes veer slightly upward and to one side as they try to puzzle out your meaning. During this brief time, I HIGHLY suggest offering them a condescending smirk. This makes them feel stupid, which they fucking deserve for attempting to prematurely squash our stimulating dialogue before I've had my full say.
Other potential co-cli opportunities:
- "Yeah, well I guess you have to read between the lines." "Not if I'm thinking outside the box, I don't."
- "Yeah, well I guess everyone has skeletons in their closet." "Doesn't matter if you have a walk-in."
- "Yeah, well you just gotta remember to dot your i's and cross your t's." "Nah, man. In today's world, it's all touch-screens and keyboards."
I could go on and on. I would appreciate some of your own examples here though. It really is a fun thing to do.
Of course, there is the slight chance that someone might immediately respond to your co-cli by saying, "What? That's doesn't even make any fucking sense." For this reason, I do advise coming up with a potential explanation for what you say - no matter how far-fetched - before you throw the co-cli at them. This way, you seem prepared, like what you implied was obvious, and the other person is now left feeling stupid, which he or she should. From that point, the only remaining opposition you'll get is "I've never heard that before in my LIFE!" And that's a lay-up for you, because you can just bring the hammer down by saying, "I don't fucking care if YOU'VE ever heard it or not." Boom. The point is - just don't let them know that your co-cli is essentially an empty, meaningless statement. Make them believe it so you can revel in how dumb they are for believing you. In the end, either the conversation will continue like you wanted, or if not, your mood is soothed by making the ther person pay for ending it.
One final note - back in 2008 when Obama was running for president, many democrats would contest the conservative notion that poorer folks need to "pull themselves up by their boot-straps" by saying "How can they if they don't even have any boots?" That's cute. But it's retarded. I hope these folks are having fun coming up with more stupid bullshit while they're walking around sans ambition, filling their days with nothing other than trying to find another street to "Occupy." Take a shower, hippies.
II. On the Other Hand, if You WANT the Convo to End...
You see this quite a bit in movies/tv as a way of offering closure to a dialogue-heavy scene. When an important theme or idea or significant plot point or a main character's plan of attack or whatever is the focal point of a particular scene, many times said scene will end with that main character having a small epiphany ('You mean an 'epiphanita'? Yeah, I remember your older posts!' Wow, that's an old one. Thanks for paying attention), often by realizing the genius or truth behind what the other, sidekick character says. This moment of clarity is then frequently punctuated/emphasized when the main character repeats what his advisor had to say.
To illustrate, let's say the main character is upset that the love of his life is dating some other douchebag. In order to prove his superiority and to win her over, the main character's best friend will deviously suggest something like, "Dude, you want to show her how much better you are than that nerd she's dating? All you gotta do is take him out of his comfort zone, know what I'm sayin'?" Then the main character will smile - clearly formulating a master plan in his mind at this moment - and repeat "Out of his comfort zone, huh? I think I know exactly what you mean..." Then the scene will end, usually fading into a transitional shot of a camera panning the busy streets of whatever major city they're in while some upbeat rock song kicks in, and the next scene will begin with the girl and her nerdy boyfriend being plopped into some funny/awkward atmosphere with which he's clearly not comfortable while the main character is all smiles. It also helps if the earlier scene with the two friends ends with them toasting by clinking their beer glasses together and having a drink in celebration of their diabolical genius.
The point here is that you can apply this to real life as well. If, in contrast to my first item in this post, you really WANT the conversation to end, just do that exact same thing. Just agree with the cliche - "No free lunch, huh?..." - nod, then say "I know what you mean man," and then change the subject. It's just a shame that real-life doesn't feature awesome transitional scenes.
III. Quick Hitters Part One
- The movie "Garden State" is the cinematic equivalent of a handjob. You don't reeeeeally enjoy it while it's happening, you were reeeeeeally hoping for something more entertaining than that, but you're nonetheless very happy at the finish.
- I'm thinking I'm just gonna not invite anyone over to my place for a year and just turn my living room into an enormous bedroom. This way, I can have a bedroom with couches, a recliner, and a fuckin' desk in it. How awesome is that? And when I tell people who've never visited me about it, they'll be impressed - "Wow, you have a Christmas tree in your...in your BED-room!?!? That's amazing!" Damn right, motherfucker. At that point, I could also say, "Yes, I do. 'Yule' be surprised how much space there is." ('Zing?' Absolutely. ZING, bitch!)
- I guess the term "butterface" eluded me recently when I was trying to describe a girl I saw at a bar in south Jersey who had a phenomenal body but a face that looked like it had absorbed its fair share of slapshots from the blue line. Thus, instead of referring to her as a butterface, I leaned over to whom I was talking (I think it was Ryan. Dude, back me up on this), and said, "I guess I'd nail her. Yeah, she's the kinda girl I'd bang but push her face into a pillow." We then laughed, and then I wrote it down and said, "This is going in my blog."
- Next time you go grocery shopping, the first thing you should do is take your cart over to the checkout counter, open the little refrigerators there with the sodas in them, remove the drink of your choice, then drink it as you shop. By the time you're done, your drink will be empty, you throw the bottle away (be sure to recycle now because you gotta remember to be a nice, genuine person), and nobody will ever give it a second thought. Free caffeine during an exhausting food-shopping outing? - don't mind if I do.
- I've been criticized for programming my GPS in my car to speak to me in an Australian MAN'S voice. Apparently its gay to not have a woman's voice. Whatever. Wanna know why I have a dude's voice? - so I'll actually listen to it when it tells me where to go, that's why. Honestly, when he says, "In point five miles, take exit 10," even if I have my doubts about the route he's taking me, I'll say, "Alright, Gunsmoke, I'll trust you," and I do as I'm told ('Wait, you named your GPS's voice 'Gunsmoke'? Yes.). If it was a woman's voice that told me to take a route I questioned, I'd literally say "Shut up, bitch. You don't know shit about shit," and I'd stay on the highway, likely getting lost as a result, and likely blaming her nonetheless.
- So much credit is given to the cat's pajamas; I think people should acknowledge the fuckin' cat for his excellent sense of fashionable night-wear.
- Hippos are like women. They both can seem adoreable at first glance but will instantly chomp you to death once you get too close, and they both think you can't see them when they're under water.
- I had a conversation recently about the 2014 Winter Olympics that will be taking place in Russia. Someone asked me if they had big enough mountains in Russia. Clearly, this sad motherfucker has never seen Rocky IV.
IV. The Cougar Age Conundrum
Are cougars, by definition, confined to women within that loose age range from approx. 38-50 or so ('When you say "loose," do you mean?... I'm referring to the age range, not vaginal structural integrity.)? Or are cougars really just women of any age who prey on younger men? In other words, yeah, a 40-year old mom who just needs to ride some college kid is a cougar. I get that. But how about a 26 year old who bangs middle-schoolers? Is she a cougar too? Or how about a 70 year-old skank who chases 50 year old dudes? Is she technically a cougar? I find myself confused.
I ask because I'm finding that life isn't fair. No matter how much I age, I never seem to quite catch up to the age bracket of women I want to destroy ('Destroy meaning have sex with? Yes, destroy meaning have sex with). When I was 15, 20 year old college girls were the shit. When I turned 21, 30-45 year old business women were my endgame. Now I'm pretty much 30 years old, and, ummm......
... I just watched "American Horror Story" on FX and found myself seriously wanting to nail Jessica Lange........ She's 63. Yikes.
So, have I been attracted to cougars my whole life? Or was I only attracted to "cougars" when I was 21 and pined for women in that commonly understood cougar, middle-aged range of 30-45? And if that's the case, what's Jessica Lange? Am I allowed to make up some new term? If so, I suggest condor. Cuz condors to me seem like they're fuckin' old school - which is appropriate given Ms. Lange's age - and they're kinda regal and majestic, which I feel are qualities earned over time, which also befits older gals. So yeah, Jessica Lange - if you're not a cougar, you're my wrinkly old condor. And you can get it.
Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I'm ashamed of wanting to get on Jessica Lange. Anybody who ever saw Sophia Loren in "Grumpier Old Men" knows what I'm talking about. She was, like, 900 years old in that movie, and she was still hot.
I just worry about what's next. Who's gonna be hot to me when I'm 40? Estelle Getty? God I hope not. One of the other Golden Girls?... Maybe, but it won't be Betty White. Cuz she looks like my grandmom. And that's gross.
V. Two Things I Will Never, Ever, Ever Give a Fuck About
1. How your fantasy football team is doing, and how you couldn't believe it and it was such bullshit that you lost by one point because so-and-so fumbled and didn't score at the end. I promise - PROMISE - I could not fucking care less. If I want to know, I'll ask. Please don't update me unsolicited about your league of which I am not a member. If I owned a gun, I promise I'd shoot you in the heart with it.
2. What you cooked for dinner the other night. Again, this does not impact me at all, nor could it possibly be of any interest to me. When I ask you "How was your night?" or something similar, I don't need a rundown of your goddamn recipe. Any response that starts with something like, "Oh it was awesome! I went to the market and picked up some cayenne peppers and curry powder to make my..." is not acceptable. Guess what? - you're not an Iron Chef. You're not even that Food Network bulldike with the crazy spikey blonde hair. And you never will be. Tell me you made dinner, read a good book, cranked one out, and went to bed, then we can move on. I don't fucking care about the minute details of what you made or how you made it. Nobody does.
VI. Wait, What the Hell Am I Saying?
I'm guessing this happens to everyone, but have you ever found yourself kinda thoughtlessly singing along to a song you've heard a million times, but on the one-million-and first time, you realize just how crazy/disturbing/ridiculous the lyrics are? If you've ever sang along to "Too Close" by the group "Next" in the 90's, this has happened to you...
...But I bring it up now because I have a particularly disgusting example to share. And as usual, by disgusting I mean funny. So, my favorite rock band once covered an early metal song by a group of British nincumpoops who called themselves "Mercyful Fate." That's the disclaimer...
So I'm sitting in my car in a Dunkin' Donuts parking lot in Cranston, RI, enjoying an early afternoon cup of coffee before my next customer appointment, and I was relaxing and singing happily along to some old school metal CD I found in my glove compartment. The weather was nice, so my window was down, and the passers-by could definitely hear the music coming from my direction. I didn't mind because I'm not the guy who rolls his window down just so others can hear how loud I like my music. Still, they could hear it. And specifically, here's what they heard me obliviously crooning as I daydreamt with my coffee.....:
"And I'll be the first! to watch your fuuuuneral. And I'll be the laaaaast! To leeeeeeave! And when you're doooown!, beyond the groooound! I'll dig up your body again (YEAH!), and make love to shaaaaaa-aaaaame! Oh, lady cryyyyyy, and say good-bye! (GOODBYE!)"
I rewound it a few times, dumbfounded that I never realized just what the fuck I had been singing since 1998 when I first heard it, and then promptly sped away from the parking lot to avoid eye contact with the horrified stares that were aimed at me. Fortunately, I didn't spill a drop of my delicious coffee.
People in Cranston just don't understand music I guess...Haha.
VII. Quick Hitters Part Two
- Leather interiors often, not always but often, come with a douchebag driver.
- My favorite drink is Jack Daniel's. Yet only recently did I discover the apostraphe in the name. Thus, it seems odd to me that the person responsible for it was named Jack Daniel. Like, without the "s" on the end. Weird.
- Scrotum skin looks kinda similar to elbow skin. But don't pinch a scrotum. Cuz unlike elbow skin, we can feel it. And it hurts.
- You know the classic Christmas cartoon "Frosty the Snowman?" Yes, of course you do. Have you ever noticed that, during the scene in the school yard when the kids are trying to decide what to call their snowman friend, one dumb little skank suggests they name him "Oatmeal"?
- I can't really think of any definitive examples, but for some reason, I feel like girls who have ONE Asian parent are almost guaranteed to be hot, especially if the other parent is a minority.
- Why does my dentist insist on asking me questions only after he's pried my mouth open and has a drill inside of it?
- I've heard that pregnant women, at certain stages, can get extra horny. I suggest that this happens because they're fuckin' for two.
- Also, the answer is yes. Having sex with a pregnant woman should be considered a threesome.
VII. Your Mouth is Full of Spiders, You've got Garlic in Your Soul, Mr. Griiiiiiiiiiiiiii-INCH!
Other than the fact that it's Christmas-related, that title has little to do with this final item here, I just love that song, and I love the Grinch.
First off, before I get goin', suffice it to say that I'm not breaking out my violin, I'm not looking for sympathy, condolonces, etc. I figured it's perhaps just appropriate to pass along a genuine sentiment given the time of year. And so here it is:
2011's holiday season will bring with it the first Christmas since 2002 that I haven't had "someone" with whom to share it. You know what I mean. Of course I'm still lucky enough to get to celebrate it with my family on the actual holiday and with my friends during the days that precede and follow it, and I certainly don't take that for granted/wouldn't trade that for anything.
Still, this is an odd feeling. There's a pretty severe and painful emptiness that comes with being "alone" during Christmas. It's fuckin' awful. This is the time of year when people/couples put aside what are often referred to as "petty" differences so to concentrate on and revel in the gift that is each other's company and love for each other. As remarkably cheesy as that sounds, that's really a fantastic thing. I know what that's like and how good it feels - I'd done it for eight straight years - and so it doesn't surprise me that this year, I'm kinda just waiting for Christmas to come and go as swiftly as it can. Well, if I could freeze the few moments when my family does the whole gift-exchanging thing, I would, but other than that, it's not the same, so I'm sayin' let's just get on with 2012 already.
My point - and I realize that I just spent a nice little while diminishing the value of cliches in my first item here, but I'm about to use some right here - is that if you ARE lucky enough to have "someone" with you this time of year, take absolute full advantage. And make sure every single day is spent wisely. Putting up the tree, decorating your home, buying presents, going to family functions and listening to an endless barrage of Christmas carols in the car on the way to and from there, doing all the preparations and all kinds of other shit - it's all more important than you give it credit for. If you don't believe me, do it by yourself next year and see how ya feel.
Again, don't mistake this for an intentionally sappy, woe-is-me sort of diatribe. It isn't, or at least it's not supposed to be. Instead, it's intended to remind people to stop and smell the ros...err, holly. And the mistletoe, of course. Christmas, when all the running around is all said and done, is about your family and your "someone." Make it fucking count.
('Sorry, but that waaas a little sappy. Still, one of the nicer thoughts you've had. Good for you. Merry Christmas, DJ.' Merry Christmas, invisible demon critic).
See you all in 2012, unless of course I get drunk and anxious over the holidays...
Oh, one more thing. I almost forgot!....
Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!,
DJ
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