Once upon a time, movie nights were the holy grail of quality family time. My parents would pop in some damsel-in-distress VHS tape in the player and without the foresight of seeing how Disney was going to ruin their daughter's perception of men for the rest of her life, would have a chance to exchange a little quiet for the brain drain that was 1990s G-rated movies. Nowadays, as a twenty-something, I just wish that I could revert to those good old days when wanting to watch Beauty and the Beast three times in a row and picturing myself transforming some beastly abusive guy into prince charming was the norm.
At first, with a little help with the availability of Hindi films via satellite, I continued to be in the safe zone, aka the Bollywood zone. I'd sing along in foreign tongue with my parents that could never seem to ever get too tired of the inflated romance in every plot line. And that was A-Okay in my book because to my relief, other than the occasional nuzzling between hero and heroine, there is never anything sexually pictured or implied that would want me to go into the other room and tie a noose around my neck.
But now, my parents have decided to sign up for HBO and the experience has been abysmal. At first my tactic was always to "pretend" that I did not know what was happening as two people dry humped in the screen before me. I often did this by blurring my vision a little and starting to count until the scene was over. I find it similar to counting sheep, if you are ever caught in that predicament and would like to try out this technique yourself. Be forewarned that this may permanently damage your vision. (Although this may not be so bad if you never went to sit through something like that again.)
I have since found it necessary to expand upon my arsenal of tactics, and as a result, possibly handling such delicate situations with greater maturity. One of them was to just ask someone to change the channel. The problem with this approach, however, is the fact that by asking for the channel to be changed, you are indirectly acknowledging to your Old World parents that you know what sex is and may even have had a lot of it. I mean, a lot. So I had to modify this technique a little, by saying I'd like the channel changed BECAUSE there was some crappy Grey's Anatomy rerun you want to catch a glimpse of or wanted to know what the latest score of that darn lacrosse game. Genius, I know.
Other than that, my most powerful technique is something I like to call "The Dodge," and is not related to dodgeball in any way. This is when the movie of choice is chosen ahead of time, and is one that I know very well. This way, I can avoid being in the living room when the sexually heightened scenes occur and make it seem like I really did need to use the bathroom or really did need to go into the kitchen to grab a glass of OJ in that very moment Diego Rivera is caught graphically boning his sister-in-law's cunt in Frida or when Kate shows off more than a sapphire pendant to Leo in the Titanic. Double genius, I know.
I need to get this published in some scholarly journal somewhere.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
The Women's Locker Room
Men, you know all those fantasies you have about what goes on in the locker room? Well I'm here to tell you that it's all true... and more.
Must I tell you about the time when a fellow gym goer lost a diamond earring when she took off her shirt and her bare DD breast implants were bouncing around as she frantically started looking for it? Or the other time that two cheerleader types with the hip to waist ratio in the negatives decided to share a shower because all of the others were taken?
Though this may be a little tantalizing to hear, just as what Clint Eastwood would say the good always comes with the bad and the ugly. Sure you'd enjoy watching a couple of breasts the size of casaba melons (and a silicone-type firmness to match) bounce around, but how about trying to watch while having your view blocked by a handful of old hairy Asian women that are not shy to show off their ass wrinkles? Or trying to make out the silhouettes of the two playboy bunnies lathering each other up behind the textured glass, only to be distracted by the middle-aged woman praising the good lord because her period finally came even though she was sleeping with a man that she has only known for a month?
Yes, lots of things happen in the women's locker rooms. It could be sexy, it could be nasty, and most days I cannot tell the difference.
Must I tell you about the time when a fellow gym goer lost a diamond earring when she took off her shirt and her bare DD breast implants were bouncing around as she frantically started looking for it? Or the other time that two cheerleader types with the hip to waist ratio in the negatives decided to share a shower because all of the others were taken?
Though this may be a little tantalizing to hear, just as what Clint Eastwood would say the good always comes with the bad and the ugly. Sure you'd enjoy watching a couple of breasts the size of casaba melons (and a silicone-type firmness to match) bounce around, but how about trying to watch while having your view blocked by a handful of old hairy Asian women that are not shy to show off their ass wrinkles? Or trying to make out the silhouettes of the two playboy bunnies lathering each other up behind the textured glass, only to be distracted by the middle-aged woman praising the good lord because her period finally came even though she was sleeping with a man that she has only known for a month?
Yes, lots of things happen in the women's locker rooms. It could be sexy, it could be nasty, and most days I cannot tell the difference.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Operation: Extreme Couponing
In an attempt to reintroduce excitement into my miserable life, I decided to take up extreme couponing after seeing a mother/daughter team snag $1000 worth of groceries for $10 on TV. As I watched how they unloaded the groceries and rationed out their 50 cans of mercury-laden tuna into their rented storage facility, I pictured myself swimming in a bank-vault full of laundry detergent and Spaghetti-Os just like in one of the opening scenes of Duck Tales. This was exactly what America stands for, I thought. Along the lines of those competitive eaters that shove enough food that could feed a small country in under a minute, extreme couponing was my chance to make my mark on the image of Americans as fat ugly people that drown themselves in extravagant excess just because they can.
I thought that most appropriate clothing for such an outing were my gym clothes. However, even in my sneakers and gym shorts, I felt somewhat unprepared. That is when it dawned on me. I needed a sidekick,a real-life version of Robin that could pick of the slack while I stand and pose all pretty when the reporters are called to bear witness to me paying $10 for $10,000 of useless groceries, an event that even an act of God would have to contend with. Naturally, I chose my lovely mother. This is how she looks and this is me doing the stunner next to her:
It took a little convincing but she finally said yes. I stowed away what I calculated to be $1000 worth of coupons that took all day to collect and we headed to the nearest grocery store. Once we entered the facility, we went to town. Grabbing everything from the shelves that I had a discount for. I'm talking adult diapers and lard and KY jelly. Whatever it was, I chose not to discriminate. I just wanted that damn dollar off. I began foaming on the side of my mouth by the end.
When we finished checking out and endured the strange stares of fellow customers, the total was shown to be $500. Not quite the $10,000 that I had dreamed of, but we were still extreme coupon virgins. We knew that it would take at least a little practice to break the world record. Guessing that I'd at least walk away with paying just $50, I then proudly went into my purse and presented my thick packet of coupons to the cashier.
"Uhm.... we don't take manufacturer's coupons. Sorry."
Operation: Extreme Coupon abort. I guess this was the world's way of telling me that my calling is not to use coupons to achieve deeply discounted prices for everyday useless products.
I thought that most appropriate clothing for such an outing were my gym clothes. However, even in my sneakers and gym shorts, I felt somewhat unprepared. That is when it dawned on me. I needed a sidekick,a real-life version of Robin that could pick of the slack while I stand and pose all pretty when the reporters are called to bear witness to me paying $10 for $10,000 of useless groceries, an event that even an act of God would have to contend with. Naturally, I chose my lovely mother. This is how she looks and this is me doing the stunner next to her:
It took a little convincing but she finally said yes. I stowed away what I calculated to be $1000 worth of coupons that took all day to collect and we headed to the nearest grocery store. Once we entered the facility, we went to town. Grabbing everything from the shelves that I had a discount for. I'm talking adult diapers and lard and KY jelly. Whatever it was, I chose not to discriminate. I just wanted that damn dollar off. I began foaming on the side of my mouth by the end.
When we finished checking out and endured the strange stares of fellow customers, the total was shown to be $500. Not quite the $10,000 that I had dreamed of, but we were still extreme coupon virgins. We knew that it would take at least a little practice to break the world record. Guessing that I'd at least walk away with paying just $50, I then proudly went into my purse and presented my thick packet of coupons to the cashier.
"Uhm.... we don't take manufacturer's coupons. Sorry."
Operation: Extreme Coupon abort. I guess this was the world's way of telling me that my calling is not to use coupons to achieve deeply discounted prices for everyday useless products.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
5 New Age Ideas That Are Full Of Shit
Though I strongly believe in the scientific method, I am also quick to admit that science does not solve our everyday problems. We are all human after all, and unlike plants, we often need more than the simple combination of water, sunlight, and basic nutrients to bask in a beautiful life. And I guess it is part of the journey of life to set out into the world and discover what makes us truly happy.
However, I find that there is one thing that gets in the way of my happiness: New Agers and their self-righteous unsubstantiated claims. It is as if they took the Robert Frost poem a tad too seriously, resulting in them not only (what they perceive to be) taking the road less taken but also taking the occasional pit stop to shit on the adjacent sidewalk before they continue on their journey.
1. Bikram Yoga
If 50 years ago you asked an Indian relative of a Hindu friend if they knew what yoga is, the answer would be a resounding no. That is because for the most part it is an American invention that only pays homage to its Hindu roots as a means to market the practice as "mystical," instantly becoming more appealing to well-off housewives and horny males.
Then there is Bikram yoga, what is probably now a multimillion dollar industry for its "inventor," Bikram Choudhury. I imagine this man, who is nothing less than a genius, saw how much the yoga industry was taking off amongst middle and upper class Americans and thought he could juice a couple more bucks out of them in order to pay for his lavish Beverly Hills lifestyle by claiming that greater benefits can be reaped from yoga if done in a steaming hot room.
Even though the only thing that I'm willing to do in a steaming hot room is not exactly a group activity, I thought I would give Bikram yoga a try and my experience has been nothing short of what I would imagine it was like being a Jew during the World War II era. I was told lies to curry my trust (and money) such as that the 105 Fahrenheit heat and 40% humidity was necessary to sweat "toxins" out of the body. I was then locked inside a stinky yoga room amongst hippies that did not believe in deodorant. Towards the close of the session, my throat parched from the heat, my nose abused by the human stench, and my face sullen from the nausea, I was barely lucid until I heard that teacher declare that Bikram yoga "will reverse your diabetes, arthritis, and cancer if done everyday. It will save your life."
Though a few minutes away from needing oral rehydration therapy from an emergency response team, I nearly wet my pants hearing this. If Bikram yoga were such a cure-all, why hasn't it helped Mr. Choudhury with his male patterned baldness or that crooked smile that makes him look like a hungry pedophile?
Instead of attacking this woman's lord and savior, I decided to heed the advice of another famous Indian and decided to write this blog entry instead.
2. Vegetarianism/Veganism
Growing up in a vegetarian household was not a big deal. When at restaurants or eating at other people's homes, we always respectfully asked if a certain dish contained meat and if it did, we quietly moved on to other options for our dining pleasure. But now that vegetarianism/veganism has become a mainstream hit, I come across all types of belligerent vegetarians that exhibit verbal barbarism equivalent to that of lion roaring after feasting on a gazelle.
While some vegetarians express their disdain for the meat industry in a calm and calculated manner, others go all out on the obnoxious meter by deciding to call meat "animal flesh". The motive behind the use of this phrase is up for debate, but I suspect it is used to not only evoke guilt on a person that enjoys dining on a chicken leg once in a while, but also to make these types of vegetarians themselves feel as if they have chosen to be on some higher moral plane by putting an animal face to that piece of steak you're nibbling on. I find that more often than not, these types of vegetarians are usually the social outcast type people that have only had success in befriending animals as opposed to human social equivalents.
Then there is that variety of vegetarian that thinks their dietary preference makes them cool and avant-garde when in reality vegetarianism has been practiced in certain parts of the world as early as man. Failing to acknowledge this, they use their newfound feeling of uniqueness as an excuse to give death stares to others dining on meat dishes at local restaurants and worse yet, picket in front of steakhouses that would even give anti-abortionists a run for their money.
In the end, just like the Thighmaster and Ronco Food Dehydrator, Vegetarianism will soon fall out of fashion and all these former vegetarians will find some other idiosyncratically American lifestyle choice to bitch about.
3. Feminism
Feminism was once a great idea. Its principles were based on the idea that women too have the intelligence and skills to contribute to society in a meaningful way. At what point this simple and honest concept evolved in this nasty beast of a belief that all woman must yoke their men tight enough to send them bucking and baying is as big of a mystery as the bermuda triangle.
Extreme feminists have this strange notion that feeling sexy is a sin. So apart from not shaving their own legs or refusing to pluck that hideous mustache, they go around looking down on other women that like to dab on some lipstick or god forbid, run a comb through their hair once in a while. I'm sorry. Unless under that rare circumstance thatI miraculously choose to become a butch one sunny morning, I will be doing all those things because it makes me feel pretty and well, like a woman as god had intended.
Furthermore, these types of feminists look down on any woman that has even the slightest interest in an activity that has a mild association to house and hearth. As if baking a dozen cookies for a sick friend or learning how to decorate cakes is that damaging to that huge plight of women seeking an opportunity to enter the Marines. Or that I clean and cook because somewhere between birth and adulthood, society brainwashed me into believing that this was my "matronly" duty. Bitch puhleez. I love to bake. Get over it.
4. Natural Medicine
I once had a roommate that was hit by a car while bicycling and suffered from a soar shoulder as a result. Then she bitched about how her insurance refused to pay for the series of chiropractor visits and a couple of referral acupuncture treatments.
I'm not one to judge a person's choice in seeking out medical attention for an existing problem. However, at what point does one decide that instead of maybe going to like an emergency room or urgent care facility that it may be the better choice to see a person that got his degree in a strip mall and sells mattresses on the weekends? Especially since after the first 5 visits costing $200 a pop has not provided any sort of improvement in the pain or range of motion in the area in question?
When asked about the reasoning behind her choice, she replied: "Because hospitals are profit-making machines and doctors don't care anymore." I'm sure your chiropractor and his acupuncturist friend were contemplating the same thing when they carpooled and laughed all the way to the bank together.
5. Volunteer Tourism
There was the early history imperialism and now there is modern imperialism hidden under the veil of "volunteer tourism." The volunteer tourism websites I've visited boast some interesting accomplishments - everything from helping young children learn English in urban centers to building schools for deprived rural children in a beautiful lush countryside.
Volunteers for these programs self-righteously believe that their vacation money is making some type of improvement in an unfortunate person's life, as if any progress can be empirically made on an English-learner within 2 weeks of instruction or that doing construction work someplace will help people when in fact it is stealing jobs from local workers that could have been paid significant money for doing the same work. What's worse, by doing all this work you - the American - are still nonverbally expressing to the locals that YOU THINK THAT YOU ARE BETTER THAN THEM when in reality this is not the case.
There is a lot that us asshole Americans can learn from those living in developing countries. In fact, instead of paying for your little volunteer vacation, why not pay for a Peruvian or a Sri Lankan to come visit a major American city to teach us a thing or two about the sense of community and caring for family and friends those in developing countries have. I'm sure those people would be first to say that they do not dump their elderly relatives in some shanty of a retirement home to live out their final years. And I'm sure these poor people would also go home with their own stories of culture shock, such as how a co-worker couldn't even share a little dip off her appetizer plate at a company Christmas party.
But I guess if you are ignorant enough, as the old adage goes: if the shoe fits then donate it.
However, I find that there is one thing that gets in the way of my happiness: New Agers and their self-righteous unsubstantiated claims. It is as if they took the Robert Frost poem a tad too seriously, resulting in them not only (what they perceive to be) taking the road less taken but also taking the occasional pit stop to shit on the adjacent sidewalk before they continue on their journey.
1. Bikram Yoga
If 50 years ago you asked an Indian relative of a Hindu friend if they knew what yoga is, the answer would be a resounding no. That is because for the most part it is an American invention that only pays homage to its Hindu roots as a means to market the practice as "mystical," instantly becoming more appealing to well-off housewives and horny males.
Then there is Bikram yoga, what is probably now a multimillion dollar industry for its "inventor," Bikram Choudhury. I imagine this man, who is nothing less than a genius, saw how much the yoga industry was taking off amongst middle and upper class Americans and thought he could juice a couple more bucks out of them in order to pay for his lavish Beverly Hills lifestyle by claiming that greater benefits can be reaped from yoga if done in a steaming hot room.
Even though the only thing that I'm willing to do in a steaming hot room is not exactly a group activity, I thought I would give Bikram yoga a try and my experience has been nothing short of what I would imagine it was like being a Jew during the World War II era. I was told lies to curry my trust (and money) such as that the 105 Fahrenheit heat and 40% humidity was necessary to sweat "toxins" out of the body. I was then locked inside a stinky yoga room amongst hippies that did not believe in deodorant. Towards the close of the session, my throat parched from the heat, my nose abused by the human stench, and my face sullen from the nausea, I was barely lucid until I heard that teacher declare that Bikram yoga "will reverse your diabetes, arthritis, and cancer if done everyday. It will save your life."
Though a few minutes away from needing oral rehydration therapy from an emergency response team, I nearly wet my pants hearing this. If Bikram yoga were such a cure-all, why hasn't it helped Mr. Choudhury with his male patterned baldness or that crooked smile that makes him look like a hungry pedophile?
Instead of attacking this woman's lord and savior, I decided to heed the advice of another famous Indian and decided to write this blog entry instead.
2. Vegetarianism/Veganism
Growing up in a vegetarian household was not a big deal. When at restaurants or eating at other people's homes, we always respectfully asked if a certain dish contained meat and if it did, we quietly moved on to other options for our dining pleasure. But now that vegetarianism/veganism has become a mainstream hit, I come across all types of belligerent vegetarians that exhibit verbal barbarism equivalent to that of lion roaring after feasting on a gazelle.
While some vegetarians express their disdain for the meat industry in a calm and calculated manner, others go all out on the obnoxious meter by deciding to call meat "animal flesh". The motive behind the use of this phrase is up for debate, but I suspect it is used to not only evoke guilt on a person that enjoys dining on a chicken leg once in a while, but also to make these types of vegetarians themselves feel as if they have chosen to be on some higher moral plane by putting an animal face to that piece of steak you're nibbling on. I find that more often than not, these types of vegetarians are usually the social outcast type people that have only had success in befriending animals as opposed to human social equivalents.
Then there is that variety of vegetarian that thinks their dietary preference makes them cool and avant-garde when in reality vegetarianism has been practiced in certain parts of the world as early as man. Failing to acknowledge this, they use their newfound feeling of uniqueness as an excuse to give death stares to others dining on meat dishes at local restaurants and worse yet, picket in front of steakhouses that would even give anti-abortionists a run for their money.
In the end, just like the Thighmaster and Ronco Food Dehydrator, Vegetarianism will soon fall out of fashion and all these former vegetarians will find some other idiosyncratically American lifestyle choice to bitch about.
3. Feminism
Feminism was once a great idea. Its principles were based on the idea that women too have the intelligence and skills to contribute to society in a meaningful way. At what point this simple and honest concept evolved in this nasty beast of a belief that all woman must yoke their men tight enough to send them bucking and baying is as big of a mystery as the bermuda triangle.
Extreme feminists have this strange notion that feeling sexy is a sin. So apart from not shaving their own legs or refusing to pluck that hideous mustache, they go around looking down on other women that like to dab on some lipstick or god forbid, run a comb through their hair once in a while. I'm sorry. Unless under that rare circumstance thatI miraculously choose to become a butch one sunny morning, I will be doing all those things because it makes me feel pretty and well, like a woman as god had intended.
Furthermore, these types of feminists look down on any woman that has even the slightest interest in an activity that has a mild association to house and hearth. As if baking a dozen cookies for a sick friend or learning how to decorate cakes is that damaging to that huge plight of women seeking an opportunity to enter the Marines. Or that I clean and cook because somewhere between birth and adulthood, society brainwashed me into believing that this was my "matronly" duty. Bitch puhleez. I love to bake. Get over it.
4. Natural Medicine
I once had a roommate that was hit by a car while bicycling and suffered from a soar shoulder as a result. Then she bitched about how her insurance refused to pay for the series of chiropractor visits and a couple of referral acupuncture treatments.
I'm not one to judge a person's choice in seeking out medical attention for an existing problem. However, at what point does one decide that instead of maybe going to like an emergency room or urgent care facility that it may be the better choice to see a person that got his degree in a strip mall and sells mattresses on the weekends? Especially since after the first 5 visits costing $200 a pop has not provided any sort of improvement in the pain or range of motion in the area in question?
When asked about the reasoning behind her choice, she replied: "Because hospitals are profit-making machines and doctors don't care anymore." I'm sure your chiropractor and his acupuncturist friend were contemplating the same thing when they carpooled and laughed all the way to the bank together.
5. Volunteer Tourism
There was the early history imperialism and now there is modern imperialism hidden under the veil of "volunteer tourism." The volunteer tourism websites I've visited boast some interesting accomplishments - everything from helping young children learn English in urban centers to building schools for deprived rural children in a beautiful lush countryside.
Volunteers for these programs self-righteously believe that their vacation money is making some type of improvement in an unfortunate person's life, as if any progress can be empirically made on an English-learner within 2 weeks of instruction or that doing construction work someplace will help people when in fact it is stealing jobs from local workers that could have been paid significant money for doing the same work. What's worse, by doing all this work you - the American - are still nonverbally expressing to the locals that YOU THINK THAT YOU ARE BETTER THAN THEM when in reality this is not the case.
There is a lot that us asshole Americans can learn from those living in developing countries. In fact, instead of paying for your little volunteer vacation, why not pay for a Peruvian or a Sri Lankan to come visit a major American city to teach us a thing or two about the sense of community and caring for family and friends those in developing countries have. I'm sure those people would be first to say that they do not dump their elderly relatives in some shanty of a retirement home to live out their final years. And I'm sure these poor people would also go home with their own stories of culture shock, such as how a co-worker couldn't even share a little dip off her appetizer plate at a company Christmas party.
But I guess if you are ignorant enough, as the old adage goes: if the shoe fits then donate it.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Of Mice and Cheaters
For centuries now, us women have faced the same age old question over and over and over and over again: Why do men cheat? The question is as old as mankind itself, and I'm sure if archeologists dig deep enough in years to come, they will eventually unearth a perfectly preserved skeleton of a Homo erectus with lipstick on his collar. So naturally, when I heard that the Sperminator had spawned a secret love child, I was not all that surprised though a little disappointed. His wife, the great Maria Shriver, looks like this at age 55:
The woman makes my ovaries want to drop. And I'm a twenty-something straight woman with romantic inclinations towards minorities.
This mistress must be superhuman, I thought. She must have the legs of a sea nymph, the bust of an ancient Greek goddess, and the vagina of a virginal kegels champion! But sadly, this is what Ahnie planted his seed in:
Dayyyyyyammmmm son! You sho' done did fuck up with that one!
So to answer that question, ladies. I would say men cheat for the same reason that they like to scratch themselves in public. Because they can, especially when their choice in mistress is not governed by the laws of natural selection.
The woman makes my ovaries want to drop. And I'm a twenty-something straight woman with romantic inclinations towards minorities.
This mistress must be superhuman, I thought. She must have the legs of a sea nymph, the bust of an ancient Greek goddess, and the vagina of a virginal kegels champion! But sadly, this is what Ahnie planted his seed in:
Dayyyyyyammmmm son! You sho' done did fuck up with that one!
So to answer that question, ladies. I would say men cheat for the same reason that they like to scratch themselves in public. Because they can, especially when their choice in mistress is not governed by the laws of natural selection.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Technology Has Failed The Modern Dating World
As I've reached the gates of hell better known as the late 20s, for a brief period of time I grew concerned that I may not ever find someone to share my life with. I repeat, share. Not a man to service by birthing their planted seed from my loins, cooking their favorite accoutrements, or cleaning their soiled underpants and other items of that nature. Share. Unfortunately, I've been facing the truth, which is that most men are idiots and it doesn't get better with age as I had expected while I patiently waited all these years.
It is not only the use of telephone this day in age that quells this hope of mine. There is instant messaging, text messaging, social networking websites, and video chatting applications to worry about, additional avenues by which men can conveniently show me that they are not the right person for me and I must abstain from social interaction with them immediately. Not only that. It makes me wince in actual physical pain when I have to deal with these inevitable failings.
Instead of indicating a potential love interest as something more serious by taking the leap of calling them some cutesy nickname such as "sweety" vis-a-vis, they resort to hiding behind a computer screen or cell phone keypad when doing it for the first time. Don't get me wrong. Being called some crappy pet name too soon makes me cringe in horror no matter how you cut the cheese. But in the case of doing it in person, I can retort with some wonderful comeback as "Woaaa slow down there Cowboy. I'm not ready to let you mount this pony quite yet" and create a lighthearted environment from which I can quickly and seamlessly escape.
The same goes for those strange, unhindered text messages I receive the morning after having a date that followed standard protocol, that in turn send me in mourning. "I was tempted to do stuff with you last night" or some permutation of the statement usually glows from the screen. I'm often perplexed as to whether this is an attempt to be flirtatious, crude, or somewhere in between. But who the hell am I fooling. 50% flirtatious or 50% crude may it be, but 100% disgusting it is.
Worse yet though is when the message does not follow the standard rules of the English language. "Last nite wuz amuzingggg babes!" I do grant some leniency when the said person claims English as a second or third language. But if that's the case that why not choose a word indicating your positive mood that you can actually spell. "Great" would do just fine. "Last night was great." PERIOD. No "babes". No. No. NO.
So a word of advice to all you guys out there who have shown a poor track record in indicating your interest to a girl. Just don't do it. Stick to the telephone.
It is not only the use of telephone this day in age that quells this hope of mine. There is instant messaging, text messaging, social networking websites, and video chatting applications to worry about, additional avenues by which men can conveniently show me that they are not the right person for me and I must abstain from social interaction with them immediately. Not only that. It makes me wince in actual physical pain when I have to deal with these inevitable failings.
Instead of indicating a potential love interest as something more serious by taking the leap of calling them some cutesy nickname such as "sweety" vis-a-vis, they resort to hiding behind a computer screen or cell phone keypad when doing it for the first time. Don't get me wrong. Being called some crappy pet name too soon makes me cringe in horror no matter how you cut the cheese. But in the case of doing it in person, I can retort with some wonderful comeback as "Woaaa slow down there Cowboy. I'm not ready to let you mount this pony quite yet" and create a lighthearted environment from which I can quickly and seamlessly escape.
The same goes for those strange, unhindered text messages I receive the morning after having a date that followed standard protocol, that in turn send me in mourning. "I was tempted to do stuff with you last night" or some permutation of the statement usually glows from the screen. I'm often perplexed as to whether this is an attempt to be flirtatious, crude, or somewhere in between. But who the hell am I fooling. 50% flirtatious or 50% crude may it be, but 100% disgusting it is.
Worse yet though is when the message does not follow the standard rules of the English language. "Last nite wuz amuzingggg babes!" I do grant some leniency when the said person claims English as a second or third language. But if that's the case that why not choose a word indicating your positive mood that you can actually spell. "Great" would do just fine. "Last night was great." PERIOD. No "babes". No. No. NO.
So a word of advice to all you guys out there who have shown a poor track record in indicating your interest to a girl. Just don't do it. Stick to the telephone.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Nigerian Scam Artists
I found this in my spam folder today:
United Nation Secretary
IN CONJUNCTION WITH FEDERAL
GOVERNMENT OF NIGERIA
ZENITH BANK COMPENSATION UNIT, IN AFFILIATION WITH THE UNITED NATIONS.
Attention Beneficiary,
Hope all is well with you and family?, you may not understand why this mail came to you today. In regards to the recent meeting between the United Nations and the Present United Senates Government to restore the dignity and Economy of the Nations. Base on the Agreement with the World Bank Assistance to help and make the world a better place for all with the sole aim of abolishing poverty.
[yadda yadda]
This funds are in ATM visa card for security purpose ok? So he will send it to you and you can withdraw money in any ATM machine of
Your choice. This meeting was first held on the 8th of April 2003. You can view this page for your perusal:
http://www.un.org/News/Press/docs/2003/ik344.doc.htm Therefore, you should send him your full Name and telephone number/your correct mailing address where you want him to send the ATM visa card to you. Contact Mr. Godwin Emefiele immediately for your ATM visa card with the following information.
1. Full name
2. Phone and Fax number
3. Address were you want them to send the ATM Card to
(P.O Box not acceptable)
4. Your age and current occupation
5. Attach copy of your identification
Person to Contact: Mr. Godwin Emefiele
Office Email: mrgodwinemefiele.bankplc1@gmail.com
Good luck and kind regards,
Making the world a better place
Mr. Ban Ki-Moon Secretary
(UNITED NATIONS).
http://www.un.org/sg/
What I wrote back:
First of all, anyone that thinks that they can pass as an employee of the United Nations with such blatant errors in English grammar and spelling is not going to be very successful at scamming people. Secondly, stating that you are from a legitimate organization as a representative of the NIGERIAN government is not helping your plight at all. Finally, please come up with a better scam email. United_Nation@yahoo.com just doesn't seem to cut it.
I hope my tips help you snag some idiots social security number some day!
Godspeed!
United Nation Secretary
IN CONJUNCTION WITH FEDERAL
GOVERNMENT OF NIGERIA
ZENITH BANK COMPENSATION UNIT, IN AFFILIATION WITH THE UNITED NATIONS.
Attention Beneficiary,
Hope all is well with you and family?, you may not understand why this mail came to you today. In regards to the recent meeting between the United Nations and the Present United Senates Government to restore the dignity and Economy of the Nations. Base on the Agreement with the World Bank Assistance to help and make the world a better place for all with the sole aim of abolishing poverty.
[yadda yadda]
This funds are in ATM visa card for security purpose ok? So he will send it to you and you can withdraw money in any ATM machine of
Your choice. This meeting was first held on the 8th of April 2003. You can view this page for your perusal:
http://www.un.org/News/Press/docs/2003/ik344.doc.htm Therefore, you should send him your full Name and telephone number/your correct mailing address where you want him to send the ATM visa card to you. Contact Mr. Godwin Emefiele immediately for your ATM visa card with the following information.
1. Full name
2. Phone and Fax number
3. Address were you want them to send the ATM Card to
(P.O Box not acceptable)
4. Your age and current occupation
5. Attach copy of your identification
Person to Contact: Mr. Godwin Emefiele
Office Email: mrgodwinemefiele.bankplc1@gmail.com
Good luck and kind regards,
Making the world a better place
Mr. Ban Ki-Moon Secretary
(UNITED NATIONS).
http://www.un.org/sg/
What I wrote back:
First of all, anyone that thinks that they can pass as an employee of the United Nations with such blatant errors in English grammar and spelling is not going to be very successful at scamming people. Secondly, stating that you are from a legitimate organization as a representative of the NIGERIAN government is not helping your plight at all. Finally, please come up with a better scam email. United_Nation@yahoo.com just doesn't seem to cut it.
I hope my tips help you snag some idiots social security number some day!
Godspeed!
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