Because He's Fucking Up Even The Simplest Lines

You know what's incredibly maddening? (And I'm mad, so I can testify!)

When it seems like you're the only person in your office who, when you call in sick, everyone gets an e-mail notifying everyone else in the office that you're out sick. And NOBODY else gets that e-mail when it's someone else calling in sick. I've had days go by where I notice someone is not in the office and I have to ask where that person is. The answer is never in my inbox.

I hate my life.

(And no, I'm not paranoid. Believe me, I can read about mental illness and say "That's not me! Close, but no cigar.")

I'm So Lonely, I Wish I Was The Moon Tonight

You spend a nice weekend trying to enjoy yourself, have fun, live semi-carefree.

Your net result is to be broke and horribly depressed and cursing the existence of the guy who invented sunny days. And you think your inability to get a cab when you're late for work (because you're horribly depressed) has something to do with that.

Fucking mood swings.

They'll Recognize Just what I Stand For And What I Just Can't Stand

What modern times have wrought:

You plan to go to an event. You're on Facebook, and you can check out who has also decided to attend this event that is being promoted on Facebook. And you do. You find a (fellow) person that is also planning on attending the event who appears attractive and interesting and possibly quite masturbatory-worth though you do not know this person. You arrive at said event, and notice the attractive person you found on Facebook, and admire their taste in baseball teams, beer, and nail polish (Green, for instance). You fail to find an opening to talk to this person, so you ask a friend if they know that person. The friend tells you that the individual sitting next to the attractive person with the interesting nail polish is her boyfriend, even though the Facebook page of the attractive person indicates that they are single.

Notice the several dozen other attractive people who are at the event, and who are no doubt going to square off and fuck other people not named you. Feel depressed.

Wake up at 1:00 in the morning with an unopened bottle of whiskey next to your computer, and wondering, "Should I take my meds now or wait until I wake up later?"

Lose more faith in continuing to breathe.

Also: You notice a another person who is way more likable than you are who recently got a large tattoo on his fucking head.

Plus: You are thirty-five years old and you think this is a beautiful site:

And Honey, You Can Make My Motor Hum

I want to have sexylovetime with Sarah Haskins. I'm also very, very drunk.



Cheers to a lazy, drunken July 4, surrounded by friends who like you for who you are. America has something to do with that.

Reminiscing, Got Me Feeling Kinda Low, I Broke Out The Everclear and Then I Drunk Some 'Mo

1:56 in the morning of July 4. This is the 4th time I've been drunk in the last 24 hours. There is some fool out on O'Farrell playing a recorder, which is the most incorrectly-named musical instrument of all time. It doesn't record fuckall, it just makes irritating noises that you want to get away from. If I was prone to beating up people on the street, that guy would be all hurty by now.

Last nite I was talking to some guy named "Dean," which I thought was amusing because I was drunk and when was the last time you talked to a guy named "Dean," especially when you're drunk? Anyhow, during our discussion about the neighborhood, I realized that the random street noise in the 'Loin really does aggravate me. It's not people coming home drunk from a bar at 1:00 in the morning that annoy me. It's the people who make loud, unnecessary noise at all hours of the day. Like some guy playing a recorder, f'r instance.

Goddamned depressed. July 3 of last year was my last day of work. July 4 was an awesome BBQ with a ton of friends, followed by karaoke at Encore. July 5, we were on the road to our new life in San Diego. I still miss her so much.

I've also never had a massage.



Also: last nite I suggested that a friend name her new kittehs Mr. and Mrs. Snugglepants.

I was laughed at. Just like Sarah Palin is laughed at every day, by everyone, because she is a clown. God, I always thought she was just a narcissistic egomaniacal weirdo, but her resignation speech is kind of a strange mess, n'est ce pas?

Anyway, Happy Birthday, America. Keep on dancing:

Sunbeams Are Not Made Like Me

Speaking of famous dead musical legends...

"Very sad. Looks like a normal soccer-playing kid."

I agrees.

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I guess I was feeling a bit overconfident because by the time the waitress was able to direct the woman’s attention over to the bar to see who had ordered the drink for her, I was already masturbating.

Tom Oatmeal is my internet find of the workday.

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Things I Would Like To Learn How to Do:

1. Photoshoppin' -- like, actually Photoshop shit, not just add text to a photo or use the macrame filter or something.

2. Make videos. Just like, record shit off of TV or the Internet and make it into a video, and not just hold a camcorder or an iPhone in front of the TV.

3. Moonwalk. I've wanted to moonwalk forevs. Being old, white, fat, and not terribly coordinated are four strikes against me. Also: Running Man.



4. Drink less.

5. Have amazing sex.

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Things I Used To Do But No Longer Do Because They Reminds Me of Jessica:

1. Watch Flight of the Concords.

2. Watch 30 Rock.

3. Watch It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia. (OK, I've never watched it, but I want to, but I can't, because it would remind of Jessica, who after we broke up developed a love for the show.)

4. Walk on Sutter Street.

5. Be happy.

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Eight or nine hangovers in a row, plus about six hours a sleep a night, plus being ridiculously busy at work all week leaves Dave with little energy to do any work at all on Friday.

I'm A Pitiful Site, And I Ain't All That Bright

Holy Fucknuts, I was really drunk last nite.

I am a Bad Decision Generator. If you want to make a bad decision -- e-mail me.

In this case, it was the idea to drink until 1:30 in the morning when I had clients coming in at 11:00.

I was also wearing my "A Wizard Has Turned You Into A Shark. Is This Awesome? Y/N" t-shirt last nite. This girl who I kinda know found the t-shirt itself awesome, and kept raving it about it the whole night, while I was feeling kinda awkward about it, because I have body issues and am too fat to wear almost anything else so I felt like I my t-shirt was just a canvas covering my blubber.

(Also: She put some serious thought into whether being a shark would be awesome or not. Reminds me of these people.)

I also gave away a bunch of burned comedy CDs to people that I had originally intended to give to friends Don and Magi. But they didn't come out last nite, so I got to share Paul F. Tompkins, Mitch Hedberg, and Maria Bamford with other people.

But I think I generally behaved like an idiot because I can't remember much else.

(Also: being hungover and cranky is not the best attitude to have when you meet with clients, so I decided I'd sequester myself away in my office and let the lawyers deal with him. I was unaware that not only did the client bring his cute little daughter, but he also brought a DOGGIE! THERE IS A DOGGIE IN OUR OFFICE. SO CUTE.)

(Also x2: Yesterday when I came home there was a notice taped to my door advising me that I have three days to pay my rent or GTFU. I'm dealing with it. But coming on the heels of (1) A friend who just got a $10,000 bill from the IRS, and (2) his girlfriend, who's cat died the day before, (and (3) -- the guy I met last nite who teaches pre-algebra to 7th graders), I realized I have nothing to get worked up about. It'll get worked out.

I am too blessed to be stressed.

Mama Won't Shave Me, Jesus Can't Save Me

Saw The Hangover last nite. Funny. It made me forget for 90 minutes how much I really don't like Las Vegas and have never, and will never, have a good time there.

Points:

(1) I love Ken Jeong's Mr. Chow character. I especially loved the fat jokes he aimed at Zach Galifianakis ("Its funny because he's fat!"). I find little else funnier than fat jokes. Alas, I am also a fattieshark, so I felt like Ken Jeong's insults were aimed at me. I felt bad as well.

(2) Ed Helms, who plays "Stu," the uptight dentist friend of the group, loses a tooth in the film. Helms actually has a gap in his teeth where an adult incisor never grew in. I had that same problem, only I think I had two (three?) adult teeth that never grew in. Nice work, dead dentist. I've been painfully embarrassed and ashamed of it ever since the baby teeth got pulled. ("Cut to 26 years later! Time flies when you are anxious!" -- Maria Bamford) Ed Helms' reaction after his character discovers his missing tooth, "I look like a nerdy hillbilly!" made me laugh and cry at the same time. So then late last nite, while stoned and drunk, I texted that quote to Jess. Not that she responded (she never does -- not that I blame her... much). That kind of painful, self-deprecating humor is something she loved. (Past tense, Dave, past tense.)



(3) Rachel Harris, who played Stu's bitchy, controlling, fun-hating fiance Melissa: I've never had the opportunity to fuck the pain away before. I think the closest I've probably come is fucking away the memories of a boring, typical work day. BUT!if I ever did have the opportunity to fuck the pain away, she -- or at least her completely hateful character -- would be Numero Uno con una bala.

(4) I have never studied Spanish.

(5) I don't know what was worse: Having to sit through a trailer for Rob Zombie's remake of Halloween 2 (even the sequel needs a remake!), or the following trailer for the next Final Destination film, in 3-D. It like Hollywood execs don't ever care if their studios make money anymore, they just want to throw money to make sure that pretty, thin people -- and Rob Zombie! -- stay pretty and thin. And that requires cocaine, which requires money, which requires grossly undeserving Hollywood salaries.