Posts Tagged ‘football


Wanna get drunk and fool around? *

Dear Shelly,

Thanks for making my 23rd birthday so memorable. For once, I had people to celebrate with me on my special day. Typically, it came at the end of summer right after camp, and right before school. However, for some reason in 2004 the end of camp coincided precisely with my day of entry into this great world. Crap, what started out as an upbeat letter just became incredibly depressing for me to write. Was I really going to summer camp in my mid 20′s? The answer, obviously (and somewhat pathetically), is you are goddamned right I was! And if that isn’t pathetic enough, I’ll be going back this summer since I have nothing else to do. If you don’t think I’m not-so-secretly psyched about this, you are an effing moron. Anyway, back to you, Shelly…maybe you can come back to and we can make out again on my birthday?

So since it was the end of camp, it was also counselor party, and naturally, we were pretty much all s-faced. Not the owner of camp however, he has been banned from the party since the mid 90s for hitting on females a couple of generations younger than him, which if you ask me, is awesome. Anyhoo, since it was my birfday someone had grabbed hold of some champagne bottles, made a toast and gave me a bottle of my own, which I guzzled. Quickly. So quickly in fact that I felt the need to regurgitate some quality camp food. So, I made a solo lap around the camp grounds, did a bit of puking, all while trying my best to finish the bottle. I accomplished this, stuffed three pieces of gum in my mouth and made my way back to the group.

Upon return I thought it would be a good idea to announce, “Ok, who is going behind the cabin to make out with me…it is my birthday after all.” I really didn’t think it would lead to much, but thanks to you Shelly, I did indeed get a pretty sweet makeout session that night.  There was a butt grab here, a boob grab there, and all was right with the world; even though I’m pretty sure you went and did more than make out with the camp man-whore later that night. I can’t really begrudge you that though, there is no way I would have been able to perform given my state. I probably would’ve acted a lot like Mark Sanchez did last night…totally frazzled and appear completely out of place for much of the session, before trying my best towards the end to make up for it, before screwing it up again at the end. Only it would have been you I would’ve annoyed, not an entire fan base. Yet I digress.

I think we’ve covered it well though…like I said, thanks for making out with me.

Scott (oh wait, that’s the guy you effed after making out with me).

ps – I’ll be 30 at the end of this camp summer, think I can pull out the same lines?



I wish I knew how to quit you.

Dear Professional Sports,

I write to you today from inside my home on this beautiful day because I am too weary to do anything outside (well, it is als0 -3 out, and I need to break myself in after spending a week in 80 degree sun).  I am physically weary because not only did I have to stomach watching my beloved Patriots lose to the Jets last night, I had to do it in Newark International Airport.  Drowning my sorrows at the bar was not an option, since they were all filled with Jets fans; so instead I just roamed Terminal C like I had roamed Seven Mile Beach in Grand Cayman the entire preceeding week.  Unfortunately, the eye candy in Hudson Books and so forth was not quite up to par.  So, I just walked, and walked, with my hood up and my headphones on trying to avoid crying, punching the walls, or both…I managed to avoid tears, but I do have one or two bruised knuckles.

I am mentally weary because for the entire second half of last week, I thought of pretty much nothing but the Patriots Jets game.  And yes, I realize that is only one of MANY reasons I don’t currently have a girlfriend.  Then, to have them completely outclassed and end their season prematurely effing kills me, especially to the Jets.  My point is, what is the point to caring so much?  Thinking of the pain you have caused me recently – Bruins choking a 3-0 playoff lead AND 3-0 game 7 lead to Philly, Celtics up by 13 in game 7 against the Lakers and losing, Red Sox not even making the playoffs in 2010, and now last night…

Why do I care so much about you effing athletes, who don’t really give a crap about me.  Something tells me Tom Brady, David Ortiz or Rajon Rondo weren’t too happy for me when I finished my graduate program last month.  Most athletes on Boston sports teams are not actually from Boston, they are merely hired mercenaries.  I want to break up with you so badly, but like the quote says, I can’t quit you…I just don’t know why…but then I watch clips like this one -

and this one -

And all is right with the world.

Forever yours,

Tom David Rondo

*Brokeback Mountain


dear santa claus,

I feel like a bit of a fraud sending you a Christmas list, mainly because I was raised Jewish and never really celebrated Christmas growing up.  Oh, there is also that tiny fact that I am 29, but I’m sure every once in awhile you get some desperate plea for attention.  Anyway, here is what I want for Christmas this year (I guess just throw each one in my mudroom area, since I don’t have a tree?):

1. GPS Device: I recently spent a weekend in an unnamed east coast city, it was somewhat daunting and nerve-wracking driving around the city streets not really know where I’m going with a bunch of massholes.  Ok, you caught me…it was Boston.

2. Some good books.  I have lots of free time on my hands and I need some more inspiration for the novel I’m going to write…speaking of which…

3. Someone from Random House, Penguin or Pendant Publishing (preferably Elaine Benes) to stumble across this blog, appreciate my witty, self-deprecating humor to such an extent they ask me to write a book.


5. A female that I’m interested in and that is interested in me.  Note how I didn’t get all crazy and ask for a girlfriend…just the potential for one.  It would help if she were A. not psycho B. not necessarily a great cook but at least decent about grocery shopping, because I suck at it C. has some connections to the publishing world.

6. For The Situation, DJ Pauly D, Snooki and the rest of the Jersey Shore cast to vanish into obscurity, and somehow donate all their un-earned money to charity.  I don’t want them to fade away, that would happen anyway.  I want to wake up on Christmas morning and their fame simply cease to exist.

7. True Grit to be as good as I’m expecting it to be.

8. 100 twitter & facebook followers (hey, at least this one won’t cost anything except maybe some dignity)

9. Rex Ryan, Mark Sanchez and the New York Jets to lose out and miss the playoffs.

10. A free month on in order to make #5 a bit more realistic.  Actually screw that, if you’ve read any of my previous posts you’ll know this is just a waste.  How about you just make #5 appear on my front porch singing, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” on Christmas Eve.  It would be preferable if it was snowing lightly, and cold enough so that when I invite her in for hot cocoa in front of the fireplace (which I don’t have…damn that sounds super shady huh?) she will actually take me up on the offer.  This way, not only will I potentially have a girlfriend, I will also associate that song with happy memories, because as it stands for some reason the somberness of the song makes me want to crawl under my covers and cry. Well, it would be associated with happy memories, until of course…she just becomes another ex, and she gets one of these letters. Yet I digress.

Oh, and as for the milk and cookies, you are more than welcome to have your fair share, but I’m pretty sure the oreos are stale and the milk is spoiled. See items #5/#10 on my list if you’d like this rectified for the 2011 holiday season.


The Lonely Jew on Christmas


“are we clear?…crystal”

Dear Shannon,

I’m going to try to make this letter as nice as possible, though given the deterioration of whatever it is we had, it might be difficult.  I guess I’ll start with the harshest sentence you’ll read.  I figure it’s easier this way, instead of treating you like a New York Jets fan, where I’m really nice to you at the start, reel you in, and then deliver harsh blow after harsh blow for the remainder of the season, er, letter.  Yet, as always, I digress. Ok, here goes nothing: I want absolutely nothing to do with you for the rest of our respective lives, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

I mean, really, think about it…what would be the effing point?  Let’s focus on a couple major points: 1. you are engaged to a guy who for some reason feels threatened by me 2. To be honest, I just don’t really have a good time when we socialize.  As per issue #2, it’s not that you are a bad person, because you are quite nice, but for me, ‘nice’ is about the nicest thing I can say about you.   I just think our personalities don’t mix very well.  And issue #1, why the hell would you want me to come to your poker night, or grab dinner with you, when A. you know I’ve been avoiding you for like two years now and B. it would piss your fiancee off.

We went out on one date, ONE DATE!  I realize that after said date, we would hang out every so often, but did you not realize it was just a matter of convenience for both of us?  Both of us were somewhat new to small towns, and because we are both nice people we wanted to help integrate each other into the social pipelines.  Well, from that standpoint, we were quite successful.  Only we ended up in completely separate social circles.  And I’m not here to tell you mine is cooler than yours or anything like that, but they are simply different.  And when I have free time from my own social circle, I want to enjoy some me time (not in that way, get your mind out of the gutter)…hence, not with you and your crew.

At least we have a better relationship that Col. Jessup & Lt. Kaffee...Photo Courtsey of

So, when you would call, or text, or email at first I would come up with an excuse as to why I couldn’t; then after those wore off I started coming up with lame excuses; until finally I just stopped responding whatsoever.  Every time I think I get my point across (like when you don’t contact me after a few weeks), I get some desperate message from you about how you ‘miss me’ and how we ‘never hang out anymore.’ Um, yeah, we haven’t in about four years.  So hopefully this letter seals the deal.

Again, I’m not trying to come off as an asshole…even though I know that is how I sound.  My major point in all this is that everyone our age has pretty busy lives – trying to manage work, in some cases school, friends, significant others, dating, family, all that crap…when we have down time away from all that we should be able to spend it in any way we see fit.  And like I said, hanging out with you is not a good fit for me.  Would it be better if I gave in and we had an awkward, uncomfortable dinner where you realized face to face that I don’t enjoy your company?  I didn’t think so.

Finally, I’d be remiss not to say…as a woman in her upper 20′s facebook status’ that beg for sympathy are simply inexcusable.  Saying crap like, “feeling lonely tonight” is not going to make me want to reach out and grab a drink with you…it makes we want to throw up in my mouth a little, only because I know it’s not genuine.

Clear enough for you?

Crystal I hope.

ps – This is neither here nor there because we both knew we were never going to be an item 10 minutes into our single date, but hooking up with my two best friends within a couple weeks of that date wasn’t the classiest thing to do.

Letters sent…

December 2012
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