Archive for December, 2010


it’s not because I’m lonely, and it’s not because it’s New Year’s Eve *

Dear Every Girl at Every bar i’ve been to for the past three New Years Eve’s,

I have a very simple question for you: why have none of you made out with me at midnight? I guess I should amend the “every girl” to “every available girl,” as it’s not fair to castigate those females that were attached to significant others of their own at the time.  However, the rest of you have very little in the way of excuses.  I don’t get it, why have I not been able to kiss someone as the ball drops for 5-10 seconds.  That’s all I’m asking for, it hasn’t happened since NYE 200effing6!  I think I’m doing the right things – scoping out the scene a couple of hours ahead of time, zoning in on a few (un)lucky females at about 11:30, maybe a drink at the bar, maybe a dance here or there, and by 11:58 there always seems to be a 99% chance that I’m going to make out.  But alas…

I’ll pretty much leave it at that, as I realize the last thing people want on New Years Eve is some dark and depressing letter about some poor sap that can’t manage to kiss a girl.  And trust me, the longer this goes the less witty it will become…if it was every witty. So today, I beg of you single females that I come across tonight, all I’m asking for is a kiss, it doesn’t even have to include tongue.  I’m not going to try to take you home, or even ask for your number (though if you are up for either of those things I won’t necessarily be opposed to them), I just want to make out with one of you.

And even if I don’t as Pearl Jam sang on New Years Eve almost two decades ago, “Hey, I, I, oh, I’m still alive.”

*When Harry Met Sally


“i am not a smart man, but i know what love is”*

Dear Alabama,

I really owe you an apology.  I treated you like an absolute ass for the duration of our relationship.  I guess the truth of the matter is it was just one of those times in my life when I feel like I NEEDED a girlfriend.  You see, I had just started 7th grade and had yet to do anything substantial with a female (and by substantial, I mean making out for an hour after school under the bleachers).  But the thing is, once we started going steady, I closed up.  I didn’t know how to deal with such a meaningful relationship with a female. I had absolutely no idea what “going out,” meant.  I thought I could just tell my friends and family (who I think were already trying to pressure me) that I had a girlfriend, and all was right with the world.

For the life of me, I can’t remember a single thing the two of us did together, as a couple.  How long did it actually last? A week, two at most.  I vaguely remember trying to coordinate a date at the movies, but I think your mom had an issue with you seeing ‘Schindlers List’ at such a young age.  I guess that makes sense, you were but a 6th grader, or your mom was just secretly anti-semitic, I’m not sure.  Anyway, I wonder what would have happened if we had done something, could two pre-pubescent kids have fallen in love? Ah, what a daydream that is.

Truth be told, we never had a chance.  Why the hell did you even say yes to me in the first place?  Do you remember how I went about asking you out? I sure as hell do.  I think we had talked once before our Wednesday morning assembly that week, and you must have smiled at me because I thought for sure you’d want to be my girlfriend after that.  So as we sung our school song to finish the meeting, I subbed in the words “Alabama will you go out with me?” for one of the last lines of the song.  Holy crap, I’m getting that cold nervous sweat I had just admitting that to the general public.  What a jackass.

Well, honestly, that’s it. I have nothing else I can write here.  I doubt we’ve even conversed since  I finished middle school and I don’t even think, wait hold on a second…nope, we aren’t even facebook friends.  Anyway, hope the men you have been with since have been better at the whole communication thing than I was.



ps – you know this was almost entirely sarcastic, right? Unfortunately the way I asked you out was 100% true. Eff my life.

* Forrest Gump (turns out i am a smart man, and i dont know what love is – then or now!)


dear billy corgan,

You are bald, sometimes you wear long skirts/dresses at your live shows, and overall you seem like an extremely, how can I put it nicely, eccentric human being.  Basically, somehow I doubt the two of us would have much in common; if we ever got together for a beer I think we’d be resigned to discussing your music.  Although we could discuss sports, but you’d probably hate me because I know you are an avid Chicago Cubs fan, and because I’m a Red Sox fan you might just resent me.  You certainly couldn’t divulge any relationship advice that might help me find love, for eff’s sake, you’ve been romantically linked with many a females.  But that’s not really the reason, it’s mainly because you’ve had an on again/off again relationship with Courtney Love, the craziest biatch this side of the Great Wall.  Although you apparently did have a fling with Jessica Simpson, I’d love to know what she was like in the sack, when she wasn’t eating wings of buffaloes of course.  Wait, I got really off track, I’m writing you because of your song “Thirty-three.”

This song always depresses the crap out of me, yet I can’t stop listening to it…especially this time of year.  For some reason it makes me reflect on my not-so-interesting life and forces me to confront why I am A. single B. no prospects of not being single and C. in such a stagnant personal place.  I mean, how can a line like, “Tomorrow’s just an excuse away/So I pull my collar up and face the cold/On my own” not make you reflect on why you suck? And I do not wholly suck, only parts of me do, and Billy your song seems to bring out those parts in full force.  And I really want to know what the hell you meant by ‘Tomorrow’s just an excuse away.’ I always interpret it differently.  My guess is you weren’t referring to coming up with a new excuse, tomorrow, on why you are going to leave that nutjob Courtney Love again.  I come up with excuses constantly about items A, B & C above, the problem is the excuses are super good.  And thus, A/B/C are all still major components of my life.

So as not to completely encase myself in the post-holiday blues, I’ll finish by thanking you for providing glimpses of hope throughout this morose  song.  While lamenting my seemingly boring life, lyrics like “for a moment I lose myself/wrapped up in the pleasures of the world,” and, “I know I’ll make it/love can last forever” offer rays of light in this dark, dreary world.  Haha, I sound absurd with lines like that.

I’m not actually depressed, but who is truly happy the few days after Christmas? Not to mention it’s about 0 degrees outside, with heavy winds and snow. Excuse me for not being all hunky-effing dory.


dear kramer & mr. costanza

I realize you are both extremely busy this time of year – Kramer whipping up bagels at H&H, and Frank I’m sure you and Lloyd Braun are still slinging computers left and right, but I’d like to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for the creation and commercializing of Festivus. It is, without a doubt, the best part of being an adult who does not celebrate Christmas.  Sure, I might only be 5’9, 150 pounds and can barely bend a wet noodle, but I have always stepped it up when it comes to the ‘feats of strength’.  And the ‘airing of grievances,’ I mean, wow, just effing wow! Can’t you tell from this blog alone that there is nothing in this life I appreciate more than telling other people, specfically ex girlfriends, how much they annoy me.  I was going to put up a Festivus Pole this year, but decided it looked too much like a stripper pole and I didn’t want to have to explain that to any potential females that might stop by.  Wait, I’ll be back in twenty minutes…

Ok I realized after writing that last sentence that there are no females coming over and thus I have put up my Festivus Pole.  Now all I need is to find some female to make out with tonight and my 2010 Festivus will be complete with a true FESTIVUS MIRACLE!



Letters sent…

December 2010
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