My acquaintance,

My acquaintance,

Dear John,

Honestly, I’m quite flattered, but I don’t know if it’s really accurate to call us “friends.” I mean we hung out a couple times sure, and I had fun, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want you, or anyone else, to get the wrong impression or anything.

I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t text me so much anymore; sometimes Barry looks through my phone and I really don’t want to screw this up. Not that he’s the jealous type, but it’s all still pretty new and I just want to avoid making the same mistakes I have in the past. *Fingers crossed!*

If you still feel like you need to talk, could you please not wait until three in the morning? It’s pretty obvious you only have one thing on your mind when you call me up that late.

I’m not saying you did it, but you know that picture of me and Barry from our trip to Hawaii that I keep in the hallway? Well, it looks like his face was burned off with a cigarette or something. Maybe it was an accident? I know you can be a little clumsy sometimes. I promise I won’t be mad; I just want to know what happened.

Speaking of Barry, I hear you’ve been asking around about him. I appreciate your concern, and I know I haven’t exactly shown the best judgment in the past, but this feels different, you know? Plus, I’m sure he’d be happy to answer any questions you might have directly. There’s really no need to drag all your friends into this.

Also, could you tell your friend with the glasses to quit winking at me all the time? She’s pretty hot, but I heard she has like five kids and her husband looks like he could kick the ever loving shit out of me and is just waiting for an excuse. I do not need that sort of mess in my life right now.

So anyways, good luck tomorrow, I hear you could use it, and just try to cool it with the “friends”, ok?


Change you can believe in taking home to your mother

The internet has been a bit quiet lately. A little too quiet, if you ask me. I don’t know if it was something I said, but there’s been a dearth of animal hijinx or videos of drunk girls dancing in their underwear lately.

Could this be due to one of the few remaining pieces of America’s soul being taken out back to the ridiculous shed and slapped in the face with irony’s dick? Who’s to say. I’m just reporting the facts on the ground. Far be it from me to opine needlessly1.

With all that in mind, however, I present to you a welcome respite from hitting yourselves in the genitals with a ball-peen hammer soaked in Tabasco sauce: a video I could have easily made myself2, that seems appropriate given the state of the nation.

America, vote for Dave. He may have douchey friends, be kind of poor, and probably a latent homosexual, but he’s still more qualified than Princess Mooseburger3.

  1. By the way, when the hell did I become this interested in politics? John Stewart, I blame you. If only he had stayed in the movie business. []
  2. If I had ambition, friends or a camera. []
  3. We would have also accepted Caribou Barbie []