Clients Aren't All Bad

While my clients generally inspire me to contemplate suicide approximately 2.3 times each week, every now and then one of them reminds me that they're not ALL bad. Or at least, they can be bad in a good way.

Case in point - I went to a meeting with a new client and dialed into a conference call. When a certain woman started talking, the client in the room with me muted the phone and yelled "Someone needs to shoot that woman!" and unmuted the phone.

Seconds later another woman started talking and the client once again muted the phone and yelled even louder "And someone needs to shoot *that* woman in the ASSHOLE!"

Will you marry me?

Good Question

I was genuinely curious about why Americans call the main course an entree (turns out that it's a perfectly valid reason, we're not just completely retarded), but I can easily say that this was the best part of my search (click to enlarge):


What, only 39,800,000 results for "why do americans think they are the best"?? Ah well, I guess it's better than "why do the french smell".

I Love You Guys, But...

Today, two of my lady friends who had been visiting me for a couple of weeks headed back to New York. It was awesome having them here and showing them around town, but I do have a few comments about my lovely houseguests:

1) Did you realize that women apparently need four towels each day? I'm on my 5th load of laundry, and it is ALL TOWELS. That is insane.

2) Women really, really like to snack. Judging by the crumbs all over my apartment I can only imagine that their apartments back home are permanently carpeted in Nabisco products.

3) This is the first time I've seen any table tops in my apartment - for the last two weeks every inch of them has been covered in various beauty and hygiene products. I don't even understand how someone would have the time in the day to use all of them.

4) Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. There's a certain amount of toilet paper that tends to last me about two to three months. These girls used it in ONE WEEK. I have actually come up with various creative theories on what they could possibly have been using it for. Maybe there's a toilet paper sculpture under my bed that I haven't found yet. Or maybe it's what they were eating when they ran out of biscuits.

5) I was surprised to find out that when someone has a glass of water and wants another one, they are apparently supposed to leave their old glass sitting on a table and just go get a new one. Go figure.


Being the tactless asshole that I am, I've already ranted at them about all of these things, but thought I would give anyone out there a heads up in case you're considering having some female friends come and stay with you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think the clothes dryer just finished.

Why I Love Australia, Part 179

Juice just told me about his colleague, a 40-something year old man who called in sick on Monday and Tuesday. When he showed up to work on Wednesday, the reason he gave to his coworkers and even his boss was that he had been having nightmares. Yes, really.

And to think I used to make jokes about people 'calling in fat'. I finally live in a place where that might actually happen.

You've Changed

This week I'm reeling from the fact that NYC keeps daring to change in my absence. First was the news from J.Lee that she walked past Tribe the other day and it no longer exists. This should be upsetting for anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis, as a solid 50% of everything ridiculous that happened between 2002 and 2005 would have taken place in or near Tribe. Finidng out that my favorite bar in NYC is gone was a pretty crushing blow, I have to say. Where else will I go with friends on Sunday evenings to sit in a near empty bar with an awesome DJ and chat to the bartender in order to get free drinks all night? Recommendations are welcome.

The other is that Walgreen's has apparently bought Duane Reade, which is a pharmacy/chemist throughout NYC and no less than a New York institution. My only hope is that they at least don't change the name or the shockingly poor customer service that I've gotten so used to and strangely comfortable with over the last 30 years. I would actually miss walking up to the cashier with a ghetto hair sculpture and impractically long fake fingernails and saying "Excuse me, madame, I hate to interrupt this conversation about how your baby daddy is a whack ass nigga, but can I quickly purchase these q-tips?"

Welcome To Australia, Don't Forget Your Bucket

Miss Jessica and Boss arrived from New York on Saturday morning, and within 24 hours Miss Jessica was shocking hungover/sick and closely inspecting my toilet bowl.

We attended a birthday party that involved free booze. There was also free food, but clearly we didn't partake in much of that. Around midnight the girls were hit with jetlag and I was forced to continue partying without them until 3am.

Don't tell the girls, but I'm starting a competition with myself to see how many times I can get them to throw up from drinking too much. What can I say? I'm bored.

Omen

I got another one of those FAIL emails earlier this week, and I felt like this photo is really symbolic of my average Friday night:


Yeah I look like a loser with an extra chromosome, but the rest of you don't look much better, so stop judging me.