Monday, March 19, 2012

Some letters to some people.

Dear ladies that were flanking the semi-cute but still not all that worth it guy on Friday night at the bar in Nick & Jake's on 135th St,

You're both really pretty. You're both clearly good at catching a man. You're both very different, and likely well-educated, and I'm sure have great jobs, and dress stylishly, etc, etc...

So little skinny Asian chick who was there first? You don't need to try so hard. Stop putting your hand down a dude's shirt while you're sitting at the bar to scratch his back. That's icky and way beneath you.

And tall, "blond", fun-looking lady? He was there with another chick first. That should have been your clue to STOP FLIRTING LIKE A DIRTY WHORE LOOKING FOR A JOHN FOR THE NEXT HOUR. You should not have (a) eaten nachos from his plate of nachos (especially because you'd already eaten the dinner you ordered for yourself), (b) kept talking all close in his ear while putting your arm around his shoulder in order to pull his attention away from the other chick he was there with in the first place, and (c) started eating ribs from the guy's plate on the other side of you like they were meat lollipops. Because that was gross.

There were about 3 men to every 1 chick in that place that night. Do the math, ladies.

I was just like you, once, and MAN...I will never be that again, dammit!


To all the "shoppers" at Trader Joe's on Sunday afternoon who had a cart and an entourage of 2 adult friends or 3 children and a spouse but weren't really buying so much as just looking around and getting in the REAL shoppers' way,

Try that schtick on a Tuesday afternoon, wouldya? Fucking 'tards.

I'm Totally Judging You. Not Gonna Lie.


Dear super-muscular dude in the tank top being held up more by strings than straps and in shorts that might be a bit too tight for those super-muscular thighs,

Please stop hiking up your shorts so you can look at your quads in the mirror, for whatever reason. We can all see you. And it's disturbing. And maybe you need to shop for clothes that will actually fit you if you plan to keep building the muscles to that kind of degree.

The fat chick who's moaning as she's being tortured by her trainer, and who is not judging your choice of clothing out of jealousy, mind you, but moreso because she doesn't want to see anyone's nipples when she's in the gym.

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