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Archive for December, 2009

Who needs the respect and admiration of your coworkers when you can clumsily grope the boss’ wife, thrown up in the office ficus, photocopy and subsequently send out copies of your junk to the company’s biggest clients, and pass out on the couch in the break room?

Tis the season to be drunk and tacky.

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Smoking is dangerous for your health because if you ask me one more time if I can spare a cigarette I’m going to punch you square in the balls.

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The set-up, timing, and delivery were perfect.  The punch line was a guaranteed laugh riot.  The past ninety-nine times you have told the joke it has killed and had people rolling around on the floor in stitches.  That joke is so funny that the last time you told it, one of your friends had a little pee squirt out they were laughing so hard.  But lucky for you, on the centennial anniversary of your first telling the joke, you get to tell it to him.

He doesn’t have the best sense of humor; in fact, he has no sense of humor at all.  You repeat it.  You tell it slower.  You even take the time to explain all facets of the joke and why he should find it funny.  However, this is all to no avail.  No matter what you do or how hard you try, he’ll always be the guy that just doesn’t get it.

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It was a magical night back on Nana and Pop-pop’s 50th wedding anniversary.  The sights, the sounds, the ambiance.  It was a night to remember for more than one reason.

The evening started off a little slow as he had to make the rounds catching up with all the seldom seen relatives.  His cousin Jeff just got into law school.  Meghan, his third cousin twice removed, just had her second kid.  Uncle Mort recovered from his broken hip just in time to make it.  Thank goodness for the open bar or he would have thrown himself under Grandpa Pete’s motorized wheelchair just to get away from it all.

That was until he saw her from across the room.  It wasn’t so much that when their eyes met it was like two star-crossed lovers passing in the night.  No, when their eyes met, he could tell.  He could tell that it was on and was going to be a good night.  He’s seen the look she gave him before.  It’s the look that he has often given the ladies.  There’s no getting around it, she just eye-fucked the shit out of him.

Three drinks, two dances, and about a minute of small talk later, they were in the coat room going at it like a couple of teens in the back of a prom night limo after splitting a fifth of Peach Schnapps.  It was one of those sloppy make-outs where you just want to go up to them and say slow down turbo (that is, if you could actually stomach walking in on them).  Seven minutes in heaven later, they composed themselves and walked out to rejoin the festivities.

After a little over the clothes groping, he thought it would only be polite to ask her name.  Jennifer.  Feeling obligated, he followed up.  So Jennifer, where are you from?  Ohio.  Oh, I’ve got some relatives there.  Where in Ohio are you from?  Columbus.  What a coincidence, that’s where my Aunt Lois is from.  That’s weird; my mom’s name is Lois.  Huh.  By any chance, is your uncle’s name Stewart?  Yeah, about that… things just got a whole mess of awkward.

After this genetic disaster wrapped in a familial fiasco topped with a sprinkling of shame, we’re pretty sure you can take their names off the guest list for next summer’s family reunion in Palm Springs.

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Congratulations, it appears you have successfully invented the world’s first time machine and traveled back to the year 2002 in order to steal Justin Timberlake’s sense of style.  Why don’t you cry me a river because you certainly aren’t bringing sexyback any time soon.

While you’re at it, why don’t you use your time machine to stop by the late 80s to warn young you that the hi-top fade, rope chain, and MC Hammer pants look won’t last either.

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If you ever need to locate him, look no further than Dumbledore’s at Diagon Alley – the local comic book store.  He’s a part time clerk and lords over the place like it is his own personal Middle-earth.  With a supercilious attitude, he presides over the store pointing out story line inconsistencies and visual flaws in the newest releases.  Think Comic Book Guy, sans the wit and sarcasm.

He has amassed a collection of rare and vintage action figures that rivals only that of Steve Carell’s character, Andy Stitzer, in The 40-Year-Old Virgin.  Sure, he’s got Steve Austin and Oscar Goldman.  But unlike Andy, he’s got the even more obscure Six Million Dollar Man character action figure – Peggy Callahan, secretary to Oscar Goldman.

In addition to the obvious characters from Marvel Comics and DC Comics, he has figures from lesser known sources such as the graphic novels of Frank Miller, anime, and manga.  Plus, he collects quite a bit of underground and obscure material that you haven’t even heard of so he won’t take the time to even explain it to you.

Similar to Andy, he “lives alone… enjoys video games, [has a] framed a poster of eighties rock band Asia, and his social life seems to consist of watching Survivor with his elderly neighbors.”  Now that we think about it some more, he is also forty years old and still a virgin.  Huh.  That’s a not so surprising coincidence we are in no way shocked to realize.  If that’s the case, I wonder if he has his own personal copy of Boner Jams ’09 – a mixtape of all his favorite boner scenes in the summer of 2009…

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