Dear Internet Dating…

Hey Internet Dating, what’s up?

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh.

Yeah, that’s – Well, maybe – No, you’re right… she’s probably a bitch. Probably nothing to do with you.

Listen: that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.

I don’t think we should be friends anymore.

No, dude, I… Can you please stop screaming? We’re in a Starbucks.

Why? THIS. This is why! You’ve become an asshole. You think you’re God’s Gift To Humanity. But you’re this toxic thing that makes people hate each other, and then you act like, “Oh! Well that’s just the way it is.”

You and I have known each other for 13 years, Internet Dating. I’m sure that’s nothing to brag about, but it’s a fact of my life. When we started hanging out, we needed each other. I didn’t know how to talk or relate to women of my age. And you needed a friend because you kept starting fires in the middle school parking lot.

That’s our origin story. That’s what we based 13 years of friendship off of.

I was lonely. You needed a clean police record.

And for a long time: it worked. Through algorithms and personality questions, you kept introducing me to a lot of other cool, lonely people. When those people would ghost on me, you’d help me find someone else. Plenty of times I would get cynical, or bored, or straight-up apathetic. And you were always like, “Come back when you need to, dude. I’ll always be here for you.”

And that was nice. It was nice to know that if things ever got stale, you were there for me.

You matched me with women that – through a lot of my twenties – it would’ve been really hard for me to talk to without you.

But, right around the time I turned 30 and I moved to L.A. … something changed.

I mean: maybe you always were this way, and I just missed it. Maybe I kept you around because moving to L.A., and starting all over again, was weird and really uneven for a while.

But… I don’t know: something changed.

You lost a lot of weight. And instead of personality questions, you just asked for 5 of my hottest pictures. And instead of putting all this effort into matching me with other like-minded people, you just told me: swipe right or swipe left.

So all of a sudden: I’m meeting a lot people that I have nothing in common with.

And on top of that: you’re encouraging us to put in the least amount of effort into talking… before we inevitably fuck, because that’s the only thing we can think to do with these limited resources.

AND: if someone suddenly doesn’t feel like fucking (or actually: just talking) you would tell the person to sidestep me like a piece of roadkill. “Don’t worry, miss: I’ve got 20 hotter options than him.”

Now, I’ll be fair. Maybe, Internet Dating: you had nothing to do with this. Let’s say: you did change, but you changed in the name of trying to be better. You were trying to be a good friend, so you gave me – and millions of other single people – a lot of options. With very little bullshit. And you said, “Here! I’m just trying to help!”

So maybe the failure of this friendship is my fault. I certainly got selfish with the multiple hook-ups with women who reminded me of high school and college friends I never had a shot with.  There were PLENTY of people where I was just like: “Thank you for the good time.  Let me call you an Uber.” And, a choice few times, I would lie to myself about how I really felt, so that the whole pursuit didn’t feel so pointless.

But if we’re being honest: you’re still kind of a shitty friend.

Because, as one person was rejecting me, you were putting another person in front of me with no criteria required. And you were telling me: “Just keep at it. I got tons of ‘em.”

And options are great. But I feel like the whole system is now broken. And you’re okay with that. You’re okay with making people feel disposable, so there’s no real point to wanting anything more than a hook-up.

I don’t know, man.

The more I think about it, the more I see places where we’re both at fault.

So I probably am to blame as well. I’m sorry. This isn’t all your fault. It was me, too.

But what I do know is: I don’t like myself when we hang out now. I don’t like that you make me feel paranoid, or insecure, or even more lonely now as a grown-ass man who has no problem meeting women versus that self-serious twentysomething.

I don’t like that I’m now part of a culture where everyone is dating with one foot out the door, with no real respect or decency if there’s no interest or chemistry.

I miss the days when both of us made a bit more effort. Even if it was fleeting, it still felt better than what you and I have now become.

So, yeah… I don’t think we should be friends anymore. I think I need to go on my own again.

If anything changes in your mind, give me a call. CALL ME. Please don’t text. Call me, like a friend would.

But until then: best of luck. Thanks for the fun decade and change. It was good. It really was.

I’ll see you around.

10 Times The Jaguars Mascot Offended Us

Yesterday, Jax – the mascot of the NFL team The Jacksonville Jaguars – got into some hot water.  During a home game against The Pittsburgh Steelers, he displayed a sign on local TV mocking the recent U.S. outbreak of Ebola and Steelers’ Terrible Towel.

Now, the obvious question here is: “Who cares?  It happened in Jacksonville, Florida.”  But, it’s been a controversial year for the NFL.  Scandal after scandal seems to be cropping up, and unfortunately: it’s no different with Jax – a mascot who is well known for pushing the league’s buttons.

In 10 different instances over the years, Jax has shown things on that sign that no one would ever find funny.

1) 2012 vs. The Miami Dolphins

2) 2009 vs. The Minnesota Vikings

3) 2013 vs. The Houston Texans

4) 2005 vs. The Oakland Raiders

5) 2008 vs. The New York Giants Super Bowl run, when a Jacksonville win would’ve kept them out of the postseason

Progressively, Jax has also taken personal liberties with that sign, going beyond football games themselves to express his often “radical” opinions on matters.

6) In 2012, when Jacksonville was rumored to be trading for native son Tim Tebow

7) In 2009, when a public option for healthcare was still in discussion

8) Again in 2009, when state education departments began implementing the Common Core Initiative

9) In 2011, when Jax weighed in on the dealings of Hollywood

10) During the 2014 preseason, when it just got weird

30 Names For The North American River Otter

1. Bill
2. Marcia
3. Philip Seymour Hoffman
4. Max
5. Angela
6. Felix
7. Captain Picklepaws
8. Jasper
9. Johnny Appleseed, The Otter
10. Johnny Appleseed II, The Otter Strikes Back
11. Theodore Roosevelt
12. Minerva
13. Agnes
14. Frenchie
15. Lady Dumerville
16. Countess Contessa of Chesapeake Bay
17. Adolf
18. Julian
19. Samantha
20. Gina
21. Tina
22. Martin Landau
23. Thomas P. Cardinalstein
24. Edgar W. Pritchettberger
25. Frank
26. Myron Von Thiesel Von Thiesel
27. Wayne Jarvis Beau Derek
28. Jonathan Hinklebottom
29. Patrick T. Hachachachacha
30. Jim

Diary of a Taco Bell Addict

“I got my first taste when I was five. It was my parents; they were addicts, so I became an addict. Products of your environment really happen, folks. I remember the first time I tasted a Baja Supreme Gordita. It tasted like rainbows in my mouth were rolling my soul in glitter. After that first, I was able to walk away from it fine. I knew I wanted it, but I was protected from it. Cuz, y’know, I was a kid. But you get older, you strike out, and you realize that hunger never goes away. It actually gets worse – that Taco Bell hunger.

They call being addicted to Taco Bell “riding the horse train” cuz most people believe the food is made outta horse. And I guess, if that were true, then I rode every filly in that ranch. Some days were better than others. You wake up at 7 in the morning, and the first thing your brain is screaming for is cinnamon sticks. You don’t just want to eat it, you want to rub them on your face. Because you actually believe that all that stuff will take your problems away: your mammoth obesity, your shortness of breath, the complete lack of respect that people have for you because you can name the release date of Half-Life 4, but you don’t know what Libya is. But you believe and tell yourself, “I just need to eat 25 Grilled Stuffed Burritos and it’ll all even out. I get that in me, and I can go to my job at True Value and get through the day.” The worst days came when I was about 10 years in. I was a tester. That’s when they pay you to show up at the regional Taco Bell headquarters and you eat all the off-menu items they’re developing out of lab in Colorado somewhere: The Super-Cheesy Queso Bandito Chalupa, The Mega Mexican Uber-Beef Double Fried Taco, The Spicy Crackin’ Super Lime Chicken Salad drizzled in Ranchero sauce (pig fat). You don’t go there because you want to be there, you go there because things have gotten bad enough that you need to be there.

Is any of this getting through to you folks? Any of this shit scaring you? Good. Because it should. You can come back from it, but you’ve got to work. You’ve got to want it. You should be willing to learn what an apple tastes like, and that not everything has to washed down with a Mountain Dew. There’s this thing called water that’ll do the same thing and won’t cause your heart to hurt. Folks, use me as the example. I want to help you. Join me when I say, ‘God, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, and the courage to stop myself from ordering a 9th Nacho Supreme.’ “

Family Meeting: We’re getting divorced…

Kids, your mother and I have something to tell you. We’re getting a divorce. Now, before you begin to assume anything, we want to you both to know that it is completely your fault.

Now, we all know that – “typically” – a divorce never happens because of the kids. It’s because the parents have come to a point where they would be better off not married to each other anymore. This would also be the time to tell you that that’s a bold face lie. Parents are adults, and children are children. Adults can learn how to live with each other, despite their shortcomings. Children are social morons who are led to believe that life is a fairy tale. Truth be told: you’re mother and I would get along great if you two weren’t in the picture. We could keep the house, turn one of your rooms into a separate bedroom, turn the other room into an office or a pottery studio, and continue to share the mortgage as if we were roommates. But apparently – according to all of Mom and Dad’s friends and colleagues – that’s too “complicated” for two children to understand! So we’re stuck doing this: we’re getting a divorce so that you two can have a “healthier upbringing”.

It’s not that we don’t love you, we just don’t love you enough to act as if this isn’t a huge pain in the ass for us. You’re our kids, you deserve to know the truth. I mean: why do you think we’re raising you as atheists? It’s because there’s no such thing as bullshit in this family. When your Mom and I got together, we had it all planned out. We both were marine biologists. We were able to afford this house at 25 years old. We were going to live the perfect life. That’s why we decided to have children, because we thought it’d go great with everything else. But… the neediness. We didn’t expect that it was going to be an all-the-time kind of thing. I know right after you were born, Benjamin, we had a three-week vacation to the Bahamas all planned out. It was going to be a treat to ourselves after 9 months of dealing with the whole “pregnancy” thing. But guess what: that had to be scrapped because a newborn apparently needs to be cared for all the time. Do you know how much “non-refundable” costs?

Anyway, I should reel this back in, because I can feel myself going on a tangent. What your mother and I have decided is that enough is enough. A person can only take so much. And, given our current state of mental well-being, you two deserve better, too. That’s why neither of us have elected to take custody of you. Rather you’re going to go live with Uncle Pierre in Singapore. Singapore! Doesn’t that sound exciting! Clean streets, excellent education, corporeal punishment – so don’t even think about growing up to be some kind of smart aleck, Allison! Pierre’s already got you enrolled in summer session at The Academy of Obedient and Gifted Children so you’ll be all caught up by the time fall rolls around next year.

What, Donna? Oh right, I should have asked: do you two have any questions?

10 Tips for the College Freshmen Class of 2015

1. College is a great place to discover tons of indie music already ruined by the internet.

2. Girls love it when you begin and end sentences with “Much ado m’lady.” I recommend using it in the quad for a week.

3. When pulling an “all-nighter” on a paper, you will realize that exhaustion makes you fearless, which why after you’re done you should also wrestle a bear.

4. When choosing a major, think about something you’d love to study that will have nothing do with your adult life.

5. Living in dorms is all about tolerating different lifestyles. Feel no shame to continue showering in your nylon body sleeve.

6. Contrary to what you think, someone is watching you play in your D-III college football games – the bears who plan to wrestle you later that night.

7. A good senior thesis begins and ends with a strong point of view. But no one ever complained about pop-up sections, either.

8. Getting rejected by a fraternity is not the end-all, be-all to your life. That’s what I tell myself after every job interview these days.

9. Wokinga t a collige noospapr looks gret on a resumi.

10. If you feel inclined, join a Political Action Committee. We need student leadership now more than ever. Who else will stand up for your freedom to wrestle a bear? Or, multiple bears in a battle royale that involves sponsorships for several local bars?

From The Book Of Grubbs

Photo Credit

Some of my favorite moments in human history are the ones that just leave you astounded. Like ones where you can’t help but think, “Ah, she’s doing it for the money.” Enter Jaime Grubbs, one of the many women Tiger Woods took while he was at the height of his career.

Outside of being “a girl that slept with Tiger Woods”, there’s nothing spectacular about Ms. Grubbs. So I guess that’s why she said some of the most batshit crazy things I’ve ever heard on trust and heartbreak when she did a photo spread in this month’s Maxim.

Let the self-delusion commence, sad girl.

“I didn’t go to him, he came to me.”
I believe Dave Coulier’s mistress said the same thing in Mom Pants Monthly.

“The real turning point, when I fell for him, was when he trusted me enough to leave me in the hotel room and let me sleep. ”
When you want to tell her ‘I trust you.’, leave her to wake up alone the next morning in a hotel room. And, with enough money to buy breakfast at the waffle bar.

“At first when we had our meetings, at like five in the morning, he’d be like ‘We have to get out.’ But eventually he’d leave me with his stuff, and I could have done anything with it, so the trust meant a lot to me.”
Car keys. Clubs. Wallet. Insane Mistress. iPhone. Yup, everything’s where I left it.

“If I could talk to him, I’d tell him that he hurt me a lot. I don’t understand why he kept reeling me back in. How could he be so heartless?”
Yes. That’s it. He was ‘reeling you back in’. That’s why you’re shooting an underwear spread in a magazine beloved by 13 year old boys and 25 year old virgins. Goddammit Tiger! Look at what you’ve made her do. This girl could’ve won a Nobel Prize in physics, but you just had to keep having sex with her. And you made her pick up the phone every time you called! You, sir, are filthier than Nobokov.

My Awesome New Social Network

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Owning A Dog; Or, How I Plan To Sleep With Your Hipster Girlfriend

Photo Credit

Hipster Romeos do not intimidate me. Sure, they have many things going for them that I do not: they have the look, they have cultural “tastes”, they have a demeanor, which most single, under-30 New York women have come to expect. It’s a mix between Andy Warhol-femme and Brandon Davis-macho. At some undocumented point in cultural history, one woman down on Essex Street swooned, and it created a domino effect to rival anything The Eisenhower Administration ever augured. Obviously, all of this frustrates me. How the hell do I compete against such debonair excess? When I shop for clothes, I show up at a Target with an American Apparel catalogue, stake out a salesclerk, and spend the afternoon picking out inexpensive monochromatic t-shirts. Here’s the truth: I can’t compete. I just cannot. So, with that realization, I decided to embrace who I am. Instead of trying to lock horns for the affections of waifish females on a hipster’s level, I decided to bring them down to mine.

I went out, and bought a dog. A 19 year old puggle, to be exact.

Scientific studies have shown that an “average handsome” gentleman with a dog sets off a powerful pheromone in women. Presently, NASA is trying to convert it into rocket fuel. This means: I walk into a bar on East 2nd Street with Rufus on a leash, and it’s lights out, Ryan Adams. Sure: the little guy is blind in both eyes and only understands one command in Mandarin (“Ni-Pei!”, “Beg.”), but I rescued him. And doesn’t that alone – ladies – make me infinitely more sexy? What I’ve discovered is a seduction technique of Three Mile Island proportions.

So, to all the Hipster Romeos in the five boroughs, I throw down the inappropriately short cut-offs. It’s a level playing field: between you and your Frye boots and me with my blind, crossbred mutt. May the best poseur win.

10 Signs That This Relationship Isn’t Going To Work Out

1. You’re a Republican, I’m a Democrat.

2. You’re a fancy Manhattan socialite, I’m a grubby bootblack from Brooklyn.

3. When we woke up together this morning, we both shared the same thought: “Why do I want to call you Sheryl?”

4. Hold it, wait! Let me pull my pants up from around my ankles. I said, I think we rely on sex to fix all our problems.

5. I don’t think I could ever really love you. You smoke, you drink, and you insist that my heroin habit is far worse.

6. I read the Sunday New York Times for “Arts & Leisure”. You read it for news. Nerd.

7. I like watching late night episodes of Law & Order: SVU. You keep complaining that the rest of nunnery isn’t so appreciative.

8. What the hell is so wrong with giving you a quadratic equation for your birthday?

9. Apparently, I can’t reject your “break-up”. Another lie from Sports Night – GODDAMN YOU, AARON SORKIN!!!!

10. I want you to be my Cindy.