I Must Miss the Ol' Man

I had a dream this afternoon (during one of my many Saturday naps) that I was back in my parents' house in Needham and that we were under attack by a serial killer. The serial killer had managed to blow the hinges off the back door, and was about to come in and get us, and my father said, "Oh, don't worry, I'll just fix that right up." And then he pulled out a tackle box full of tools and repaired the hinge.

Take that, serial killer!

Consumerism

Today, as I was waiting on line at the Social Security Office for my replacement card, I saw a cute little baby with a big smile and thought, aw, I should buy one of those. Just like I think when I see a really cute dog.

So much is wrong with this, I really can't go into it.

Wisdom From teh Webernets

Me: I find it really annoying that women don't put their birth years down on their facebooks.

Coworker Dennis: Why?

Me: Because it's dumb, that's why. Also, I want to know if [redacted] looks good for her age.

Coworker Dennis: She's 27.

Me: How do you know?

Coworker Dennis: All women are 27. The entire world was born in 1981.

Now you know.

Today in Delusional D-baggery

I think it's safe to say that if this guy weren't married, he'd never be getting any ever again. He still might not. After all, the whole name of his article is The Affairs of Men: The Trouble With Sex and Marriage. I think it's totally possible that his wife is pretty grossed out by him, too.

My favorite part of this piece, also highlighted by Jennie Smash girl-crush Jezebel, follows:

Sitting in Schiller's, I ... suggested that we could change sexual norms to, say, encourage New York waitresses to look on being mistresses as a cool option.

Bear in mind that this dude is 52 years old. I admit to reading the whole thing with one hand over my eyes, as if looking at an eclipse through a piece of cardboard, but I'm pretty sure he never once mentions that these cute little hipster waitresses might not be on the lookout for married dudes who are the same age as their fathers. Ew. EW!

Even Ma Smash Has Her Limits

Ma Smash: (About a mutual acquaintance.) Girlfriend? Oh, that's right: She's bisexual, isn't she?

Me: She's not bisexual.

Ma Smash: I thought she was.

Me: She says she is.

Ma Smash: You don't think she is?

Me: If she's bisexual, I will go right out into the street and have sex with the first woman I see.

Ma Smash: Oh my. Oh no.

Me: In fact, I'll go over to the bodega and have sex with that one lady behind the counter who doesn't have any teeth at all. That's what I'll do.

Ma Smash: I'll give you five real American dollars if you don't.

Up Your Manifesto

I am ready for the Fourth Wave. Who's with me?

I Actually LOLed

Coworker Dennis has been looking at condos lately, and I've been going with him, because everyone should have a fake wife to alternately play good cop/demand to know what this maintenance is for, anyway.

The search has had a salutary effect on his self esteem, as evidenced by the following conversation:

Jennie Smash: are you lunching today?

Coworker Dennis: i have a meeting at 1

JennieSmash: oh poop

Coworker Dennis: so i might run to the post office and get a nasty burrito at qdoba

Coworker Dennis: because buying apartments makes me feel sexy

JennieSmash: oh good for you

Coworker Dennis: and i don't care as much

JennieSmash: HA

JennieSmash: isn't that great?

Coworker Dennis: it sort of is

Coworker Dennis: like, oh, you don't want to date me? well you live on 110th street and i'm buying in a big glass pool-filled orgasm palace on the river with the best view on earth

JennieSmash: HA HA HA

JennieSmash: you are actually killing me

Coworker Dennis: yay! mission accomplished