I ran through my options. I could tell the boy that, hey, in comic books, dead people always come back. It’s a thing. Or I could remind him that it was just a story, that it wasn’t real. But that cynicism would undercut my secret plan. I am trying to build a good human being here, someone who will make the world better for his presence.
The Auto Buds inbox was flooded with emails telling us that “A COUPLE-A ‘CORDS” was in fact not two Accords, but an Accord and a Civic. Thank you all for pointing it out. Cars that are not auto buds will not be tolerated here and have no place on Auto Buds. You can see those cars on the blog “Who Gives A Shit About Random Cars Parked Near Each Other”. Think of Auto Buds like Baby America. We just got the fuck out of England, we’re establishing ourselves, and NBD, we’re FIO (no big deal, we’re figuring it out). In a couple hundred years, Auto Buds will be the most powerful blog in the world, we’ll be fighting a bunch of wars, and we’ll have our first African-American running the site. Au! To! Buds! Au! To! Buds! (to the chant of U! S! A!)
It is impossible to estimate how many women Beatty has actually been with, although some have said that it must number around four figures. Beatty maintained a variety of concurrent relationships through the one technique that never abandoned him: his superior phone conversation skills.
Angry Businesswoman w/Bluetooth: It’s just a PowerPoint. How important could it be, really, in the grand scheme of things? A grand scheme that also includes you finding, for the first time in your life, a real emotional connection to another human being, unlocking a new world of mindblowing experiences you never thought possible (hint hint: Pokemon cosplay), and finding it in the unlikeliest of people: me, sitting across from you, eating cotton candy and reading Eat Pray Love upside down.
A word of warning: at Thai Herbs and Spa they prefer you in loose clothing, so they provide an ambiguously-holed pair of pants, like scrubs for the morbidly obese that you can wear backwards as easily as forwards or both legs in one, if I prefer. And a pre-owned t-shirt with the neck cut extra, extra wide like we used to do to our Gold’s Gym sweatshirts in the 90s oh we didn’t? my bad.
I know what you’re thinking. “Surely I can’t just live like that. There are taxes. Laws. My favorite show is on. My sports team is playing this weekend. I have to go to the dentist. I haven’t been to the gym in days. I don’t have health insurance. I have a blind date to go on. I should really start saving for Christmas presents. Everyone is unemployed. Surely life isn’t as simple as ‘party hard all the time.’”
This maybe says more about my confused conception of masculinity than about the character-design capabilities of that particular game, but anyway, point is, I named him “Straighty McPoonlikes,” and that reference has been coming up a lot lately, so I thought I should let you all know.
Some people using this medication will unfortunately develop the exact condition the medication is designed to prevent, only worse. The medication finds this amusing. If this happens to you, please contact your doctor for assistance. If the medication attempts to stop you from contacting your doctor, please call the number below. If there is no number below, your medication may have already won.
My old chewing pen was your standard classic meat-and-potatoes Paper Mate with a nice tapered end that felt good in my mouth. You know how sometimes you’ll put something in your mouth and just go: Yes. That belongs there. That is going to be in my mouth a loooong time.
CORRECTION: Thanks to a couple observant Auto Buds buds for notifying the Auto Buds team that these two cars are not in fact two Civics, but a Civic and an Accord. Obviously this is completely unacceptable. While it is very possible that a Civic and an Accord could be parked next to each other as buds, they are clearly not Auto Buds.
“The next suitable person you’re in light conversation with, you stop suddenly in the middle of the conversation and look at the person closely and say, ‘What’s wrong?’ You say it in a concerned way. He’ll say, ‘What do you mean?’ You say, ‘Something’s wrong. I can tell. What is it?’ And he’ll look stunned and say, ‘How did you know?’ He doesn’t realize something’s always wrong, with everybody.”—David Foster Wallace in The Pale King (via sabbatical)
I long for the days when it would have been universally unthinkable, in any situation, to utter the words, “Sir, I notice you have an erection. Are we okay?”
Because isn’t the answer kind of obvious? No. No we are not okay. One of us is mortified beyond repair, and the other of us thought it would be cute to get a massage license instead of a graduate degree. It isn’t okay, it’s life; a stretch of time—however abundant or brief—marked by any number of mild accomplishments and gross embarrassments that are more kindly left uncommented upon.
Maenad Mélange: Just because you make sacrifices on your countertop doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice style too. Sophisticated pastel blend as colorful as a garland of spring flowers wreathing the horns of a bull intended for Bacchus. Bloodstain-resistant and so beautiful you will want to gorge yourself at your kitchen counter instead of your triclinium.
“Listen to me very carefully,” she hisses. “You are going to assemble our cherished memories in a fun, creative, whimsical manner or hand to god I’ll take the pinking shears to that thing you call a peener.”
“You call it a peener. I call it Dandy Jim. And Dandy Jim loves nothing more than glitter and glue sticks and being whimsical.”
Anyway I was sitting there eating my gas station taco, just being me, and it occurred to me that those brushes might smash the window and then slap my face and fill the car with soapy water and I’d have to sit there in my wet, glass-covered underwear (pants off when going through a car wash, that’s a rule) and just take it and then get two more rounds of crazy spraying and then get sealant shot in my eyes and then have the big blowers blow me. Not sure why this got super gay all of a sudden.
Tell him if he intends to blackmail you, his name will go out to every HR admin in the city. Tell him your kind sticks together. Tell him the HR network would never let one of their own take a fall for tappng a piece of ass during an onboarding.
“You know I’d keep you forever if I could,” tell him. “But I just can’t afford to be so extravagant as to have a boy in the house who just lays around naked, occasionally getting up off the floor to groove a bit. Really, I thought you’d have learned some more steps by now.”