By staff writer E.E. Southerby
Volume 30 – May 4, 2003
Now Playing: “All My Little Words” by The Magnetic Fields
I received a lot of rambling, long-winded and often incoherent responses to my ‘Which is less manly = Not drinking beer or not eating spicy wings?' question. The verdict was inconclusive, but I think we can once again affirm that people on the internet have very poor spelling. My favorite answer came from Matt (not his real name) from Vancouver (not his real location, probably): “I think winggs are les s manlly than beer cuz 1nce i had so many winggs i puked al over annd then I nevve r hadd them gain.” Ladies and gentlemen, take heed of this, the advice of the retarded. Here's what happened this week:
-They're advertising a cell phone that has a built-in walkie talkie. This is a pretty good idea, until you say the words “walkie talkie” out loud and then you realize how stupid they sound together. I did some research, turns out the walkie talkie is a military invention. Imagine if more of the military's stuff sounded like that: “What's that? A bomb?” “No, it's a boomie kaboomie.”
-I got back into stand-up comedy this week, which seems like a bad idea in retrospect. The club was packed, and everyone was great, except for me. I pretty much tanked. I should have told the walkie talkie joke.
-Quote of the Moment: After my extremely mediocre and, well, sub-par comedy performance this week, I was approached by some fans: “Hey! Great job tonight! Is this your first time?” No, I've been doing this for 2 and a half years, but thanks for patronizing me. I hope you die alone. Idiots.
-You know how, when you're in college and living away from home, you're always at a bar desperately trying to pick up a girl so you can take her home and maybe, if you're really lucky, take advantage of her while she's drunk? Well, try doing that when you live with your mom. Every time I meet a girl at a bar here, I always start the conversation with “You seem very nice, so if we're gonna hook up tonight, can we go to your place?”
-Speaking of preying on unsuspecting drunk girls, the other day I got to thinking: If I were a cannibal (which I'm not) and I was feeling suicidal (which I'm not), I'd probably eat myself. I mean, sure, it would be grisly. But it would also be the most delicious way to die, at least that I can think of.
-As you can probably tell from the tone of this newsletter thusfar, my work situation has gotten me a little depressed. Since I value my personal safety over wealth, I have decided to end my employment with the masonry company from hell (official company motto: You can't get blood from a stone, but we can get blood out of you). Therefore, I will quickly return to my former status as ‘Jobless Hobo'. So if you know anyone who's willing to pay money for me to come over and tell jokes or sing ‘In Da Club' incessantly, email me. Alternately, if you know of anyone who's willing to pay money so I'll stop, I'm open to offers. Nobody is tired of that song at all.
-Isn't it awkward seeing someone you haven't seen in a really long time? They'll always be like “Why didn't you stay in touch for the last year and a half” and you always have to make up some lame-ass excuse like “I must have lost your phone number. And I hate you.”
-Stupid Passover's got me all worried about impending plagues. The 10 plagues, as anyone with online access to the Encyclopedia Britannica will know, were: Blood, frogs, lice, wild beasts, animal sickness, boils, hail, locusts, darkness, and death of the firstborn. That last one doesn't make a lot of sense to me. What if the first born was already dead? Or in a coma or something? I've discovered a loophole in God's twisted design.
-A lot of people will tell you you'll have a hard time coming back from college for the summer, because everyone you know will have changed. I don't think that's true. Everyone I know is exactly the same. Like my friend Billy, who's still on the donor list waiting for a new lung. That trooper. Everyone else still acts like they were in high school. Apparently, I'm the only one who's changed. How, you ask? Well, I'm a lot less funny, for one thing. Also, I have little to no patience for people who still act like they were in high school. “Look, Emmanuel! I got a new phone! Isn't it neat? It's got a walkie talkie on it.” Grow up or die already, dammit.