Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘the science of dating’ Category

Well, it’s one month shy of my first post here at The Daily Elephant.   I would like to say a big thank you to all of you out there who actually take time out of your extremely busy lives [or so you say..] to read about my ridiculous life.  It has been my pleasure to get to know you all.  As much as I’ve loved my big, oversized, wrinkly elephant skin, – I need some space to breathe.  You know how I get restless.

The time has come to announce my new website, and I thank you for your patience.  Oh wait, you were a bunch of crazy LUNATICS continually griping in my ear everyday. 

I want you to know that in this era of social networking, twittering, and myspacing that YOU are the first ones to know about this wonderous new development.  And let me tell you something, you better come visit me cus that blog is nekkid!!!  And no,  it’s not the kind of nekkid you’d be excited about.   I spend countless hours copying some of my favorite blogs onto the new website so it wouldn’t be empty and now there are ZERO comments.  It’s as if I have the most hated blog on the planet.  Boo hoo.  First one to comment wins… uh… my heart

We all know that I’m challenged when it comes to things like choosing names, significant others, or things from the dollar menu.  So you can IMAGINE the heartache I suffered over the name of my new website.  Afterall, I’m pretty hard to please and I’d like to be happy with this for more than a year.  So I thought long and hard about the general nature of my blogs and conversations with friends.  And one thing kept coming to mind- I’m very direct.  And I like it that way.  And I like others to be that way with me.   So I present to you my new website, designed by yours truly:

blunt-delivery-2

***FAVOR:  All of you that have The Daily Elephant listed on your blog roll, could you pretty pretty please change that to bluntdelivery.com???  I will love you forever.

And just for that, I have some fabulous new blogs for you right at the top of the pile, including: 

A Post-it Would Have Been Better

Middle School Misfortune

Nitemare on Ex Street

I Dated A Slumdog Millionaire

Not to mention that there is now a picture up of Kenny and I from the actual night in question from my post The Kenny Chronicles: How We Met

BOO-YA!  Told you I’d have it up by today.  There’s all sorts of new things for you to feast your eyes on, so you’ll have to look through the categories.  I am also introducing THE SKINNY, which is where I’ll be telling you the deal about products, websites, and things that will either revolutionize or destroy your life.

See ya around kids.

Read Full Post »

Dearest lovebirds of all shapes and sizes,

With the corniest scam holiday of the year fastly closing in on us, I thought I’d take the opposite approach to many websites, which list “good” Valentines Day gift ideas.  This could be because I hate Valentines Day.  Or that I take the opposite approach to just about everything.   If you could just hold on for one quick sec, while I finish this box of ice cream.   Much appreciated.

This post is strictly for the males out there, as you know,  I’ve always got your back.   I suggest you brace yourselves cowboys – because there’s a fierce wind coming your way and it’s about to blow your friggen mind.

vermont-teddy-bear-bandit-bear1.  Stuffed animals.  Whether it be a GIANT red atrocity from the Walmart candy aisle or a Vermont Teddy Bandit bear, you are not to buy us any form of a stuffed animal.  Nevermind the bombardment of commercials tell you that this is a good idea, it’s a glitch in the Matrix.  It isn’t cute.  We aren’t going to sleep with it every night.  It won’t remind us of how much we love you, but rather the dilemma we face over where we can possibly place a  GIANT-bright-red-stuffed bear that doesn’t match anything.  Nothing

Exceptions: You are dating a 9 year old. 

2. Lotion sets.  Alright, how much lotion do you think we need exactly?  We’re already trying to rotate the twelve lotion sets we have from the past four Christmas, birthdays, Valentines Days, Flag days, and that bout with pneumonia  – none of which we even like the smell of to begin with.  Unfortunately, we won’t allow ourselves to throw away perfectly good lotion -so we are forced to hoard them in misery.

Exceptions:  You are dating someone with incurable dry skin.  An aligator, perhaps.

pajamagram3. Pajama-grams.  First of all, what just happened?  Second of all, no.  Do you really think we want something from a company that says “this is the only gift guaranteed to get her clothes off”…..?  This is the worst thing you could EVER think of getting a woman.  Not only are these pajamas guaranteed to be butt ugly and itchy, but they come with additional accessories like “do not disturb” signs and flowered sachets.  gag.

Exceptions:  She is homeless and has nothing else to wear.

Guys, avoid these things along with anything that can be purchased from Walgreens of CVS and you should be alright.  For the most part.

Want more blog traffic?  Let me feature your blog

 

Read Full Post »

So if there’s one thing that might force me to relinquish all respect for my mother, it would be that she loves Neil Diamond.   And black licorice.   Both, unforgivable offences.  If you didn’t know, Neil made a guest appearance on tonight’s Grammies.  I wasn’t warned of this, obviously.   This  gave me no choice but to switch to Bravo, where they were playing The Real Housewives of Orange County rerun-marathon that I now have memorized, which gave me no choice but to mute it and write this blog.

he_s_just_not_that_into_you_movie_image_jennifer_connelly__jennifer_anistonI went and saw the movieHe’s Just Not That Into You on Friday.  I have been living in anxious anticipation of this movie since I first picked up the book – one of three that I’ve actually read in my life.  While I was watching it, I couldn’t help but reminisce on all of the unfortunate male mishaps I’ve had in my life, which there is not enough available space left on the internet to fully chronicle.    

Guys:  this post is for your benefit.  Just know if you do any of these things, no girl will ever be that into you.

1.  White-tiger-internet-guy.   Okay, so, remember when you were much younger and much stupider, and you and your friends put your profile on a dating site for the heck of it?  And then out of nowhere some guy actually contacted you and wanted to meet forreal?  And then you were super freaked out, but didn’t know how to turn him down?  Oh, just me.  Well, as the stars would have it, a charming young man would invite me to coffee.  In the course of casual emailing, I had mentioned that I always wanted a pet white tiger.  That may not be something that usually ever  comes up in your casual conversations, but it would if you were talking to me.  So I arrive, at a well-lit, public place (I was stupid, but cautious)  and waddya know the moment I sit down, he hands over a stuffed white tiger.  Okay.

dont. ever. do. that.

You better believe that one of my family members had a life-threatening emergency about 10 mins after he handed over the animal.

2. Underware-model-Wrigley-field-guy.  I’m sure there’s alot of people who may over look certain flaws or potential sources of conflict in a relationship if the person is strikingly gorgeous or from a famous family.  This would be underware model wrigley field guy.  Indeed, nice to look at.  Indeed, of noble blood.  But let’s just make something drastically clear: if you check your reflection in a car window or talk about water weight on a regular basis – we’re just not going to last.  An instant snapshot of our granola and jogging filled future popped into the forefront of my mind, and it was over.

3.   Italian-gold-chain-guy.   I love Italians.  But as soon as they leave Italy, something just goes haywire.  I myself, am Italian – but not that Italian.   Orazio was his name.  Orazio was one of the sweetest people on earth.  He had a good job, and was to inherit his dad’s uber successful business.  He opened doors, pulled out chairs, held the umbrella…all that good, but uneccessary stuff.  But this poor guy was just too Italian.  He wore a gold chain.  And as soon as my eyes caught the first gleam of that blinding light, it was the beginning of the end.

This is a pretty funny video entitled:  “10 chick flick cliches that aren’t in He’s Just Not That Into You”

Want more blog traffic?  Let me feature your blog

Read Full Post »

when-harry-met-sally-billy-crystal

 

 

Harry:  “You were going to be a gymnast.”

Sally:  “A journalist.”

Harry: “Right, that’s what I said.”

 

 

 

Guys, if you’ve ever been perplexed and confounded by the ways of women, I understand.  I do.  Although I might be one, I only understand our ways about 45% of the time.   But within that 45% of understanding, I am going to try to share this secret knowledge with all of you poor, pathetic, and tortured souls out there.  Of course, the degree at which you need to execute the following steps varies drastically from one woman to the next, so in that aspect you’re on your own.

1.  We want you to be nice.  But we don’t.  If you’re too nice to us then we will slowly grow to hate you.  And by hate, I mean lose all repect for and view you as a pushover who can only be considered a good friend.

2. We want you to pay attention to usBut not too much attention.  This is a very important one because if you don’t give us attention when we need it [aka when other attractive girls are around or when we’re crying about something ridiculous] then it’s done.  But if you get all clingy on a daily basis when we just want some FRIGGEN SPACE for the love of everything then it’s also over.

pouty-face3.  We want you to give us our way.  But not all the time.  See, if you don’t ever give us our way then you’re a cold-hearted, insensitive, selfish bastard.  But if you give us our way all the time then you’re not enough of a man to be worthy of our respect.   And most likely, you’d be an awful father who’d let the kids do whatever they want just because they make that pouty face.

Stay tuned for the second intallment of what women want.  I’ll be bringing that to you as soon as I figure it out myself.

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

Read Full Post »

The other day, when I was hard at work on the internet,  I accidentally came across a salad recipe that commanded my undivided atttention.  I know what you’re thinking, and no, I’m not one of those birds who eats salads and drinks skim milk.  I had just polished off an entire box of Peppermint ice cream (cus you have to get enough while it’s still in season) when I came across the recipe.   And it fit my criteria perfectly – it had linguini in it.  Cus if I’m going to have salad, you better believe there’s gotta be some pasta in there somewhere.

man-grocery-shopping

Unfortunately, this salad is so unique and appealing that it contains not one solitary ingredient that I actually own.  So I make the list of random ingredients that I’ll only use half of and then have to throw away because I don’t make anything else cool enough to warrant such ingredients as “nappa cabbage.”   So I send the boyfriend to the store.  He was going ANYWAY, chill out. 

He comes back, and a shock of excitement runs through my veins as I think of the new creation I will be making.  Oddly, he walked in with one bag.  I was thinking, huh, that just doesn’t seem like it would have enough stuff in it for this salad.  Then, I start to put the stuff away and this is the following conversation:

me: um, honey, why isn’t there any of the ingredients in here?

him: well, when i got there they were remodeling the store and they had everything moved around. 

me:  but there was still food there, right? 

him:  yea, but I couldn’t find anything.

me: so you couldn’t manage to find ONE ingredient on my list, yet you were able to navigate through the terrain and locate the frozen pizza and the Coke zero?

him:  no.  i got you cilantro.

me:  oh, thats right.  thank you.  but WHAT THE HECK am I supposed to do with a gigantic bunch of cilantro?

cilantro

Read Full Post »

So I was at Target yesterday, browsing through the dollar spot, when I picked up a snazzy ’09 desk calendar for myself.  It was right about then, that I realized the time is fastly approaching. ..

new-years-champagne A New Year.  A clean slate.  A fresh start.  Full of endless possibility and golden opportunity.  I don’t really believe in resolutions, but I do believe that you should take a moment to stop.  think.  and analyze your life over the past year.   And while you’re analyzing, you should also stop and realize that all that clean slate talk is nothing but a smelly pile of B.S.  I mean, that DUI is gonna ride your coattails right on into the New Year hunny. Sorry for the blunt delivery.

On a serious note, I think you should all take a moment to think about the relationship you are currently in.  I have compiled a list of common relationship classifications so that you can easily identify which one you have.  Then you can take appropriate action.

Relationships come in all shapes and sizes and the only thing that is consistent is the inconsistency [and the huge suitcase of issues that moves in with them and their inability to pick up their own socks.]  In my expert experience, these unions can be defined in a couple different ways:

1. The Rite of Passage Relationship: “You couldn’t be more wrong for me, but I’m still going to let you suck the life out of me until I have nothing left to give because I enjoy a challenging project.” (see footnote a)

2. The We’ve Been Together Waaay Too Long Relationship: “I’m pretty sure this has no potential of going anywhere meaningful, but we’re both too lazy and unconfrontational- so let’s just forget to break up and be eternally unsatisfied, sound good?”  (see footnote b)

3. The I Deserve Better, Yet I Don’t Relationship:  “You treat me like crap.  I like to complain about it to everyone, but for some reason I never leave you.  In fact, I’m so desperately and completely in unrequited love with you that I am satisfied with being the object of your un-affection until you ultimately dump me.  After that occurs, I will shed rivers of big, fat, elephant tears.  And eat myself ugly.”  (see footnote c)

4. The Biological Clock is Ticking/ If I Don’t Have Kids Soon My Mom Will Lose All Reason To Live Relationship:  “Alright.  This is as good as it’s gonna get.  courthouse or vegas?”  (see footnote d)

*footnote a).  this type of relationship is a rite of passage for every woman on earth.  some will learn.  others will continue to fall into this trap until they either despise men and resort to lesbianism, OR they snap one day and go on a shooting spree.

*footnote b). this is a common result of a long high school relationship, in which the person to whom you were originally attracted has now grown up into an entirely different person.  unfortunately, both parties will be too lazy and comfortable to end it, so they will go on to have a miserable existence.

*footnote c).  this person could very well be an attention -seeking, insecure individual with daddy issues.  OR it could be every girl i’ve ever known.

*footnote d).  hopefully, these two love eachother, but this is not a guarantee.  other possible factors leading to marriage could include but are not limited to – loneliness, peer pressure, a bad experience on Match.com, and the desperate need for a second income.

So unless you want to travel down the long, bleak road to a loveless future – by all means, end your crappy relationship!

23393995

www.wordsbybrit.com

Read Full Post »

christmas-is-cancelledChristmas is cancelled. 

So my mom called me the other night and told me that my brother is calling a family meeting.  Immediately, I knew what it would be about.  He was trying to cancel Christmas again.   He does this every year when he realizes that he bought so many speed boats and BMW’s and 300 gallon aquariums, that he can’t possibly afford to buy six family members (which is the total number of people in our extended family) a $20 gift.  Then my mom gets all depressed because she never had Christmas as a child (due to her crazy-strict- skroogey dad) and now her and my aunt are trying to make up for their lost childhoods by re-creating Santa’s Village every year for us all.  But my brother is trying to steal their joy and in the meantime forcing me to overcompensate for the excitement that he isn’t showing.  YAY!

Sorry for the personal sidenote.  What I’m really here to talk about is dating a middle child.  I’m not one, but I’m here to tell you that if you are it’s okay.  A middle child is not the one you need to worry about… it’s the only child thats the problem.  For the love of everything peaceful, do not date an only child

Take it from me,  a quasi-only child.  Considering that I’m not even a full only child, I’m messed up.   If you’re wondering how it came to be that I’m not a whole only child, well that is too bad because I’m not getting into that tonight kids.  So here are the 5 reasons why you shouldn’t date someone like me:

1.  We all want ginormous families.  You try spending countless summers selling lemonade by yourself and playing house with only a mommy or daddy and see how you feel.  Plus, all the stress of grandkids rides soley on our shoulders.

2. We don’t like to share things.  It’s not so much that we don’t want to share, but we just like the things that are ours, to stay ours.

3.  We are either obsessed with pets or can’t stand them.  There’s no happy medium for an only child.  Growing up, we either learned to console our lonliness by surrounding ourselves with fuzzy woodland creatures, or we were so self-absorbed with ourselves that the thought of taking care of a pet was entirely overwhelming. 

4.  We have a tendency to be control freaks.  Most only children are the center of their parents’ universe, thus are the product of an overprotective and overbearing upbringing.   Which means when we grow up, we freak out and have to be in control of everything.  Everything.

5.  We have ridiculous, impossible to meet expectations.  And unfortunately, we don’t just put these expectations on ourselves, but everyone we meet.  This is because all the focus was on us and we have an inner need to over achieve.   So good luck with that.

only-child

Read Full Post »

I apologize in advance that pretty much all of my blogs from here on out will have something to do with Christmas.  Oh, I’m sorry, I meant to say “the holidays” as not to offend anyone.  It’s okay if you don’t currently like the holidays because unfortunately, you’ll love them by the time I’m done giving you all the reasons why you should.  In fact, the only thing you shouldn’t like about the holidays is people who force you to refer to them as “the holidays”  instead of Christmas, which you shouldn’t tolerate.  This reminds me of my previous boss who forced me to say “the holidays” whenever we were at a work outing.  Keyword: previous.

days-of-the-week-underwareMy first blog among the holiday installments will be about singlehood during the holiday season.  For all of you out there who’ve been recently dumped, it’s time to put away that sad face Macaulay McSulky.  You should be thanking your lucky days of the week underware right about now because this means you will be able to capitalize on the most wonderful hooking up time of the year! 

I will now dispense a list of reasons as to why you will love being single this holiday season, entitled:  the 8 Days of Christmas Singehood.  Why 8?  Because 7 just isn’t enough, and I couldn’t quite think of 9.   By the end of it, you may even love it so much that you might become jealous of yourself.

1.  on the first day of Christmas Singlehood,  just do whatever you want.  I mean, you can.  You’re single.

2.  on the second day of Christmas Singlehood, buy yourself a ridiculously insane gift and then marvel in the fact that you didn’t get chewed out by your shnookums because it was a waste of money, you already have enough of those,  or because you don’t have your priorities straight.

jello-mold3. on the third day of Christmas Singlehood, go to your family gathering – not someone else’s crazypants relative’s house where you will inevitably feel obligated to at least try the jello mold and act overly enthusiastic about the dollar store candle or tool kit they bought you.

4 .  on the fourth day of Christmas Singlehood, enjoy relaxing by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and not accompanying your beloved to an awkward holiday work party where you will be forced to dress up and “get to know” all of the people that you hear continual griping about.

5.  on the fifth day of Christmas Singlehood, please don’t waste the big, pretty makeout snow.  Nothing screams “i want to make out”  like snow-  and no one has the power to resist a snowy makeout.  so do everyone a favor and bundle up, find yourself a hottie, and spread a little holiday joy.

6.  on the sixth day of Christmas,  watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special and relish the fact that you aren’t having the following internal dialogue:  “but what if I spend too much …then they’ll feel like crap… but what if I spend too little… then I look like a creep?”

beard7.  on the seventh day of Christmas, don’t shave.  in fact, don’t shave for any of the days, cus why?   [men: this might be the perfect opportunity for you to grow out that beard you keep talking about, which your girlfriend would never allow.]

8. on the eighth day of Christmas, go see an action film.  not a christmasy piece of crap movie that you’d have to see if you were in a relationship.

Read Full Post »

Well, the election is over.  And although the world might be coming to an end, I will now be blogging more often.  So there’s always a rainbow, my friends, always.

 

So my best guy friend and I were discussing dating.  Not dating each other, but dating in general.  He shall remain nameless, but then again, I have remained nameless so the mere naming of my friend would have no meaning to you.  So I could technically name him, but I’m still not going to on the off chance you do know who I am and then you might figure it out.  But then again, if you do know who I am then you  already know who I’m talking about…  Well whatever!  Can you just stop being so difficult for one second of your life, and let me tell the freakin story! 

 

 

seinfeld

 

We often times find ourselves having these kind of conversations in hopes of figuring ourselves out and better understanding our issues so that we may become a beacon of light, a shining example for our gender.  Or we do it because we are the only ones who will not judge us for the ridiculous and terribly honest things we say.

 

elbowFirst, there’s something you’ve got to understand about my friend.  Let’s call him Kenny.  Happy now?  Well, Kenny once broke up with a girl because of her elbows.  And I rejected a guy one time because he was too Italian.  And I love Italians, so as you can imagine, this was a tragedy of mass proportion.   The point is, we are relationally challenged.  We’re very good at talking ourselves out of things using any justification at our disposal, and if there isn’t one available then we just make it up.  Most of our conversations resemble reruns of Seinfeld or something of that nature.  Get the picture?  Of course you do.  You’re bright.

 

So we’re sitting there, discussing our problems and an exchange to the following effect takes place:

 

me: ok.  so, again, why can’t you like her?

 

ken:  well, the personality is great.  face is great.  everything is great.  and I might even say it’d be the real deal if…

 

me: ….if what?

 

ken:  it weren’t for the gap.

 

me: what gap?

 

ken: the teeth gap.  can’t get passed it.

 

me: Ok, so to recap: you’re not going to date this girl, who otherwise might be the one because you can’t get passed the gap?

 

ken: no, its not just the gap.  but thats a big part of it

 

me: well that’s good to know.  I’m glad it’s not just the gap, but that it’s a whole slew of frivilous things.  you’re growing.

 

ken:  i mean, if i could just close it somehow. [holds up his first finger and thumb to form a gap]

 

me:  close it?  not gonna happen.  and you can’t suggest that.  no.  NO.

 

ken:  no?  but what if….

 

me: no. 

 

 

Check out more of the Kenny Chronicles:

 

A Conversation at Starbucks 

 

Black Friday, depression, and a Salvation army chair

A Bad Gordita and Some Classy Water

 

 

Read Full Post »

Lately, I’ve received alot of questions to the effect of “how do I find the one?”  Well, it just so happens that I have more than a few answers up my very svelte sleeve.  I’ve spent weeks, possibly even months [if I were to have logged all my time] researching and compiling data for what I am about reveal to you.  As per usual, you can expect to pay not a single PENNY for the knowledge that I am about to impart upon you!  It is but merely the beginning of a lifetime of benefits that you will reap by reading this blog.  How shall I be compensated, you ask?  The smile on your face.

For many of you, it’s not that you’re unlucky, you’re just looking in all the wrong places.  As I’ve repeatedly said, you’re never going to find creme brulee on the Taco Bell menu, and unfortunately, you never will  [because it would be awesome to be able to get a Chalupa and creme brulee all in one stop].  I will further demonstrate my point in the following chart.  Please study it with ravenous desire.  memorize it.  picturize it.  dream about it at night.  frame it on your wall.  tape it to your fridge.  fold it up into a teeny tiny piece and carry it next to your heart… for contained therein you will find the answer to one of life’s most perplexing questions. 

 

 

Now, if you look carefully, you will observe that you have equal chances of meeting your future mate in: rehab, space camp, a safari, solitary confinement, or your mailbox.  But now I want you all to take out your microscopes because we’re going to delve into this and chizzle away to find out how this affects your dating life.  With closer analyzation, you will discover that you actually have a greater chance of meeting your future mate in solitary confinement, than you do at the bar.

staggering?  perhaps groundbreaking?

  something to think about.

For more on this popular dating series, please read: The Science of Dating: Know who you are.

Read Full Post »

Ladies, I feel that there is so much good material out there for the boys… we need a little something to look at once in a while, know what I mean?

See boys, women aren’t really that complicated. It’s the simple things that we desire in life… why is that so hard to understand?  Why, oh why do we always get pegged as mysterious, never satisfied, and impossible to please nags?  Watch and learn.

 

Read Full Post »

[Please be advised that the following case study is not only FDA approved, but it is the result of YEARS of research and should not be questioned]

 

I find that the whole dating process is nothing but a huge waste of time [and his money].  You may or may not agree with me, and as you could have guessed, I don’t care.  Here’s the problem:  you meet; you flirt; you have ridiculous, surfacey, nervous conversations that don’t make any sense; you date; you think you might have found “the one;” and a year later – BAM! You’re dating Psycho McBipolarPants.  But then it’s too late because you either feel sorry for them and can’t break it off or you’re too overwhelmed at the thought of starting over, so you just stick with the loser until three years have come and gone.

 

So,” you ask, “how does one ever solve this age-old dilemma?”

 

Well, as usual, you’ve come to the right place.  By now, I’m sure some of you have realized that I am a savvy expert on several topics… but what you may not have realized is that I am also a scientist.  A scientist of love.  And I welcome you to the coolest, most color- coordinated laboratory you’ve ever been to.

 

It’s simple.  All you have to do when you meet someone is tell them what movie character you are.  As soon as you mention that, they will understand everything about your personality and life so that they can make an educated decision whether or not you’re meant to be.  If not, peace out sucka!  If you don’t know how to figure out what character you are, I’ll get you started with the following quiz of the most popular pesonality types [answers are written below]: 

 

1.  You’re one of those super nice-guy dormats.  You’re not materialistic, but you occasionally wear spandex and perhaps a Van Halen tshirt.  Your friend resembles Boy George.  You have a curly, Jewish mullet.  You like the Cure [and God love you for that].  Who are you?

 

2. You attended etiquette school, although you now pose nekkid for a mere $0.10.  You like long boat rides and dresses that cut off your air supply.  You were rescued from plumeting to a watery death by a strapping young gentleman.   You repaid him by not so much as sharing the slightest piece of your raft when he was dying of hypothermia in an abyss of blustery water.  Who are you?

 

3. You love reeses pieces, and you pick them up with your very long fingers.  No matter where you are, you love to call home.  Your very long fingers light up on occasion.  Who are you?

 

4.  You’re an avid collector… of skin, mostly.  You might have played hockey as a child, but now you wear a mouth guard for a different reason.  You can’t resist the Bath and Body Works 2 for $5 lotion special.  You’re voice is a bit creepy.  You’ve contemplated eating a few of your friends.  Who are you?

 

5.  You’ve been robbed, more than once.  You enjoy high risk sports – often inside the house.  Growing up, you hated your parents and your cousin often wetted the bed.  You’re scared of spiders, but are willing to touch a tarantula if need be.  You’re quite the ecape artist.  You have abandonment issues due to your parents leaving the country without you a couple times.  Who are you?

 

6.  You have a lucky streak.  You volunteered for the army.  You’re an entrepreneur who loves his mom.   You loved one girl your whole life, but she never paid attention to you until she was dying of AIDS.  You and your offspring are named after a large clump of trees.  Who are you?

 

7.  You believe in love at first sight.  You can think up some pretty sneaky plans… but when it comes to follow through you really suck.  You talk in Old English, and let’s face it, you aren’t that pretty.  You kill yourself at inconvenient times.  Who are you?

 

8.  You’re pretty, I’ll give ya that.  You think black boots go with everything.  If you get short on cash, you sell your body.  Who are you?

 

9.  You are pretty gullible.  You’re a loner.  You’ve spent most of your life hiding from love, but when you finally discover your dream girl – you find that she is actually an ogre, much like yourself.  Who are you?

 

1.  Robbie Heart [Wedding Singer]  2. Rose [Titanic]  3.  ET  4. Hannibal Lector [Silence of the Lambs] 5. Kevin [Home Alone]  6. Forrest Gump  7. Juliet  8. Pretty Woman  9. Shrek

Read Full Post »

 

WARNING:   I’m going to have to ask that no matter how innocent and beautifully honest this blog may be, that you don’t fondle, grope, caress, or touch it inappropriately in any way – even if it is the blog of your dreams

 

BREAKING NEWS:  Prince Charming was NOT spotted today [or ever for that matter]  galloping upon a snow white steed, harboring a large shield for warding off dragons or scary people with guns, while traveling  through the enchanted forest to rescue a long- haired, bottle -blond damsel with daddy issues.  Sources have revealed that the reason he was not spotted was because he actually does not exist!

 

[ Cinderella’s response to the shocking news: “You mean I’ve been sweeping up all this soot and ironing my evil stepsisters’ button down shirts and there’s no fricken prince at the end of the tunnel?  What kind of CRAP is that?!” ]

Ladies: let’s just get something straight.  Prince Charming isn’t around.  He jumped the border and he’s headed for Atlantis.  To my knowledge he hasn’t even left a close relative or body double to be your shoulder to cry on.  He didn’t even leave his snow white stallion around the stables for you to pet.  His mother, the Queen of Nonexistent Men, found this note under his pillow:

 

 Dear Completely Delusional Yet Surprisingly Hopeful Women of the Land, 

 

“I feel like a classic fool.  [the imaginary Prince is British, of course]  I could no longer keep up this silly charade.  Blessed Respite! I am nothing but a fake.  I’m a big, fat (but very trim), dodgy  phony. I don’t have a steed, or a stallion, all I’ve got is an ‘88 Ford Fiesta.  I don’t ward off dragons, I run in the face of danger.  I run! I am nothing but a yellow- bellied coward, a coward I say!  My entire life is a farce, and I am the only one to blame.  Except for my mum who is partly to blame.”

 Cheers,   Prince C.

 

 

 

MORE BREAKING NEWS:  We are getting reports of a supposed uproar in Disney World.  Snow White has strapped a bomb to her up-do and is threatening to blow up her Happily Ever After Castle (which was to be her wedding gift from King Charming)  The Gingerbread man has plummeted head first off Humpty Dumpty’s wall, and Tinkerbell has joined forces with the fairy godmother coalition to spread raging pixie dust wildfires all across the land!

 

 

Read Full Post »

months of planning.  thousands of dollars.  perfectly arranged flowers and candles.  finger foods.  a heartfelt speech or two.  an overpriced cash bar.  hundreds of random people.  a way too drunk groomsman.  and one completely clueless DJ

After coming home to recooperate from the thirteenth wedding i’ve now been in / coordinated,  i dust the rice off my tux, attempt to brush through what once was my hair before teased and laquered in hairspray and glitter, and apply assorted bandaids to the various blisters that cover every square inch of my feet.

No sooner that I’d gotten home,  i passed out onto my bed.   Immediately, I  jump up when i realize that I have orange bronzer coating my entire body and so much mascara on that I can barely close my eyes, which will create an even bigger mess if left til morning.  So i go against every current desire in my body, and shower.

Showering leaves so much room for reflection, you know?  Just you, the boiling lava hot – or arctic tundra cold water, and your thoughts.  Generally, shower thoughts consist of something like, “I could actually do my hair for work today…  nah.  Why would I? I hate my job, i hate the people, and nobody important sees me.  Ponytail  McSlob it is.”  or “i really HAVE to pick up some milk today, i  CANNOT keep eating TV dinners for breakfast.”  or “I feel good. today is the day.  Today i’m gonna start working out.  yea.”  But shower thoughts after weddings always take a different turn. 

the celebrating, the smell of love in the air, the sentimental video journey….It really makes you think about your life and where you’re at.   And with all the reflecting and warm, fuzzy introspection -this is what i discovered:

I’m not allowed to have a wedding of my own.   i have no more room in my closet.

 

Read Full Post »

Dear Women,

I’ve been noticing in the past week that quite a few of you appear to be on the prowl for the right guy, as the searches to get to my site have tripled for keyword “prince charming.”  First of all, get over it already.  Secondly,  if you wanna hear my take on it, here it is.  Enjoy!

Well, wedding season is upon us, and since i must keep up with my usual ritual of being in at least 4 weddings this summer, that means i’ll be quite busy.  tonight is one of those nights.  So alas, I shall leave you with a tidbit to nibble on, until i return.

 I’m sure all of you are thinking to yourselves, “man, no tornadoes, no earthquakes, no hurricanes…i wonder what’s been going on out east lately?”

 

1. Today, a roasted chicken stuffed with a pipe bomb was found on the side of the road in Connecticut.

 

 

2.  Last friday, a Pennsylvania man called 911 from a porta -potty that he got himself stuck inside of, drunk and nekkid.   

 

 

 

3. This afternoon, someone reported a school bus travelling erratically down the road.  After the bus was pulled over, the driver was found to be a young man who had heroine, knives, and large sums of cash.  He reportedly told police that his friend had gotten arrested and left him without a ride, so he had to steal the bus to get home.

 

 

 

 what’s up New England? 

Read Full Post »

 

 

 

In Anatomy of a Creeptown, Part 1, I brokedown the definition of a creeptown, and rolled out the number one indication that you might be involved with one – the molestache. [pronounced molest-ache]

 

 

 

 

(note: there is a very distinct difference between the mustache and the molestache, please refer to my previous post so that you are completely clear on this matter)

 

Once again, life as a banker exposes me to hundreds of America’s finest each and every day.  This not only provides me with much concern about the general intelligence levels of our society, but also allows me to have a heightened sense of creeptown detection.  I will now dispense the second installment of my knowledge.

 

Although there are hundreds of indicators that you might be dealing with a creeptown such as:

*long fingernails

*lazy eyes

*names like Chester

*profuse sweating

 

the main issue I’d like to address is conversion vans.  If anyone rolls up in a conversion van, remember the words i am saying to you: you betta run.  and run like you’re life depends on it.  cus maybe, just maybe, it does.

 

Conversion vans can allude to a plethera of creeptown activities including:

 

1. kidnapping

2. molesting

3. robbing

4. carnies

5. lonely retired men who live inside

 

 

 

Thought to ponder:  if the back of a vehicle is large enough to contain a meth lab, its certainly large enough to contain you.

 

 

 “come on in, i’ve got some candy in the back”

Read Full Post »

disclaimer:  dialogues featured on this blog may or may not be influenced by occurrences in my daily life, and they may or may not be exaggerated.

 

Him: can you trim my hair?  its getting kinda bushy on the sides.

Her:  yea, i can do it real quick before i leave.

Him: sweet.  thanks (puts towel around his shoulders and sits on the toilet)

Her:  (grabs the scissors, picks up the bathroom garbage can, and hands it to him)  here. can you hold this please so i can put the hair in it?

Him: not really.  its dirty.

Her: its dirty?

Him: yea.  dirty.

Her:  (ties the trash bag and sets it on the floor, then places the can back in his hands)  there. now its not dirty.

Him:  yes it is.  its been on the floor.

Her:  the floor? my floor is not dirty.  i’m a painfully tidy perfectionist, remember?

Him:  (begrudgingly places the can between his legs)

Her:  no.  (puts it back in his hands) i need you to hold it up higher so i can reach it.  otherwise, it defeats the purpose of having it there in the first place.

Him: i’m not holding it (hands it back to her)

Her:  you’re taking a shower after this, so what does it matter?  (hands it back)

Him:  (hands it back)  it matters because i don’t want to. thats why.

Her:  well you know what?  i  don’t really want to cut your hair when i’m running late but i am.  it’s not always about what you want.  i actually need you to hold the garbage can so it will be easier for me. 

don’t you think you’re acting a bit childish?

Him: so you’re calling me a child because i don’t want to hold a dusty, nasty crap bathroom garbage can that has pieces of your hair and chunks of gooey hair products and fiber bars stuck all over the bottom of it?

Her: oh, i’m sorry.  i’m sooooooo sorry that i have long hair and it gets all over everything.  last time i checked, you loved my hair.  would you like me to chop it all off?

Him: uuuuugh. 

Her: what?

Him: yes.  yes.  that is what i would prefer.  please cut your hair all off like a man so the garbage can won’t be gooey and hairy. 

then i can hold it.  then you can cut my hair.  then everything will be perfect and the stars will align,  hilary clinton go home, and evil dictators will acquire a soft spot and people everywhere will be free.

Moral of the story?

 

 

Read Full Post »

have you recently found yourself mid-conversation and realized that you have taken a sudden turn to Creeptown? 

Define CreepTown you say?

[Cr-eee-p  T-oun]:  1.  one who makes another’s skin crawl  2.  to act in an unbelievably awkward manner  3.  the science of being creepy   4.  one who possesses a molestache

**Well, this is the first installment of a two-part series in which we will help you determine if you are setting up camp in a Creeptown near you:

 

1.  the molestache. 

[mol-e-stache] 

 

If we take a look at mustaches throughout the ages, we can easily see that the simple addition of facial hair can have an uncanny ability to transition any ordinary lad into a raging creep.   Do not be fooled by the Tom Selleck’s of the world and their unassuming upper lip sweaters.  It is but merely a smoke signal far off in the distance of what will soon blossom into a fullgrown creeptown.  see examples below:

can you guess who these promising young saplings are?

                                                                  

 

these young mustache-less boys appear to be completely normal at first glance.  their hopes are high.  the sky is the limit.  there’s nothing on their horizon except everything. .. and its all fun and games

until one day, when this…

 

            

                       turns into this:

 

 Hitler

               

 

a) jeffrey dahmer  b) sadaam hussein  c) charles manson  d) hitler  e) ron jeremy  f) michael jackson

so now i raise the ever obvious question… what do all these CreepTowns have in common? 

i think if you search deep inside you’ll find you knew the answer all along. 

knowlege is power.

Click here for part 2 of Anatomy of a Creeptown : Conversion vans.

Read Full Post »

disclaimer:  dialogues featured on this blog may or may not be influenced by occurrences in my daily life, and they may or may not be exaggerated.


Her:   (reaching into the fridge to grab a carton of OJ….noticing that it feels rather light)   
Why do you drink the juice when I said it was for me?

Him:   It’s just juice.  It’s for drinking.

Her:   But the point is, I said it was for me.

Him:  This is the fourth time we’ve argued about this…  what is your deal with the juice?

Her:   Well, my DEAL is that when we’re at the store, you specifically say you don’t want any juice.  I said I needed it because it has Calcium and I hate milk – that’s why I bought it.  Then you end up drinking it all and I don’t get any, when I’m the one who wanted it.  Thats my deal.

Him:  It’s been in there for a week.

Her:  Maybe I didn’t want any yet.  But now I do and you’ve almost drank it all.

Him:  Is it all gone?

Her:  It’s almost gone.

Him:  But is there some left?              

Her:  Yes.

Him:  Well have some then. 

Her: That’s not the point, the point is that why can’t you get your own juice when we’re at the store?

Him:  Honey. You’re being ridiculous.  What are you going to do when we have kids and little Jimmy drinks up all the juice?

Her:  obviously, that’s DIFFERENT.

Him:  How is that different?  So Jimmy can drink the juice and I can’t?

Her:  Well you should know better… besides, maybe Jimmy can have his own juice too.

Him: It’s so obvious you were an only child.  And the kids will not have their own juice. If Jimmy wants some juice, I’ll pour him a tall glass, and then one for myself.

Her:  We’re late for church.

 

www.elrickselectric.com

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »