hungry.

have you ever noticed that girls in relationships are always well fed and sometimes gain "happy weight"? you know what that is, you put on a few pounds and people start to say "oh you must be happy" wink wink. so now tell me, do you have a friend that’s constantly bitching about how she wishes she could find someone to date? and you know who i’m talking about – she’s the girl that enjoys being single. she’s independent. i-n-d-e-p-e-n-d-e-n-t do you know that means! (sorry couldn't resist) she does what she wants, when she wants, however she wants. you know exactly who i'm talking about. she dresses like a slut... yeah, yeah that’s her. listen buddy - she doesn’t want to date you - you're not that lucky. she's hungry. and she wants to use you for dinner. cause that’s all dating is right? free dinner here, free dinner there. unless… you’re a dude. have you ever noticed you will never ever have a dude friend call you up on a thursday night and sigh into the phone… “i wish i was dating someone". nope. not gonna happen. wanna know why? cause a guy doesn't need a date in order to gain happy weight.

all he needs is a beer.

now if you find a guy who is dating, i can assure you his girlfriend is happily fed (ever notice how the girl usually picks the restaurant) and he is either brainwashed or in love. almost sounds like the same thing huh? all i'm saying is watch out for the chick that just wants to go to dinner every time you see her. she's just hungry. if she lets you take her places that don't revolve around dinner at the new it spot every weekend... you have a winner. (but you should probably feed her anyway - otherwise you're kind of a douche.)

auto-correct.

i would like to present the tfln.com of today... dyac! that's right, damn you, auto-correct!

iphone users everywhere know exactly what i'm talking about. you want to say 'call' but instead you say anal. you mean to say 'she said' and perhaps you get sausage. i don't even need to go on.

so go ahead, check out my new favorite place for a good laugh. i'd put up a few favorites but i can't make up my mobs. i mean my mind! i can't make up my mind! but... here's a sampling just to get you hooked:

damn you, auto-correct.

names.

it's probably no surprise that i have rejoined the match community. sure, this relationship began a few years ago in an effort to make some new friends. maybe score a free dinner or three. it has had it's ups (not really) and it's downs (understatement of the century)... a lot. and here we are.

i'm at the point where i'm wondering if people purposely set their children up to be alone for the rest of their lives. just imagine, you're in the hospital room, your newborn baby is being placed in your arms, you can see great things ahead... and you think "norbert."

are you drunk? no really, just a little? i just got a very cute email from someone that looks reasonably attractive. he says he's single because he has high standards and would rather sleep alone than settle for mediocrity. ok, fair enough. words, words, words... etc etc... and the email is signed "norbert". newsflash norbie, you're not single because you're picky. you're single because of that god awful name.

delete.

you have a choice with first names... so why would you ever choose something like norbert? i understand that last names are different. there's really nothing you can do if you last name is, say, dickstein. yeah you heard me. dickstein. i went out with him a few times this past summer. sorry, dude. no girl anywhere wants to be mrs. dickstein ever. sheesh. might as well be mrs. twatman.

may i suggest a life changing solution? drop the dick.

twatman. ha.

manhattan.

talk about watching the sunrise... 

(yes, i took this picture! from the plane! my skills are so impressive.)

tard.

so i have this friend... he's great. very sweet and always trying to help. so much so that he felt he needed to tell me about his "friend". oh great. this never works out for me. i dont want to meet your friend if you describe him as "well, he's nice. you should give him a chance." no. no i shouldnt. you should go to hell for asking me to give your loser friend a chance.

so of course, we are out at a bar watching football when my friend's friend shows up. let's call my friend winston. and let's call his friend trevor. so, we're at the bar watching a football game when winston says "oh my friend's here." as if in slow motion, i turn around to see... no one. who is winston's friend? where is he? i don't even see anyone worth noticing. oh... that's because winston's friend, trevor, is someone i would never ever notice. ever. i know, i might go to hell for that. that's fine. i'd rather go to there than go anywhere with trevor.

so, after karate chopping winston in the arm, i decided to ignore every single one of trevor's questions for the entire evening. the night really hit a high point when trevor kept talking about his jet ski.

"you should totally come out on the jet skis."
"can you jet ski?"
"have you ever been on a jet ski?"
"yeah, we have a few jet skis."
"can you jet ski?"
"wanna come out some time? you know, and ride the jet skis?"

no trevor. believe it or not, i don't want to ride the jet ski. i don't want to see the jet ski. to be quite honest, i don't even know why you are still here. please, go. go ride your jet ski into a wall.

and i thought it was over. but no. ohhh no. let's fast forward a few months. my dear friend, winston, has invited me to his girlfriend's baby shower. yes! i love babies!

and guess who shows up. nobody. nobody worth noticing, that is. and that's when i hear, "hey! you totally shoulda come out on my jet ski that day." oh. my. god. this can't be happening. as the evening passes i begin feeling a sense of relief. i am almost out of here without having to make any actual contact with trevor the tard. i make my way to winston and give him a big hug. the next time i see him he will be a daddy! and that's when winston utters the following words in trevor's earshot "so you think you'll be able to get to 95?"

cue mr. wonderful, "you can follow me, i'm headed to the highway!" of course you are. so as i'm pulling out of winston's building, guess whose porsche i am behind. sigh. it's ok, i am in the safety of my own car. until we pull up to a red light. please understand that the following is in no way fictitious.

trevor gets out of his car, walks to my window, and asks me for my number so i don't get lost on the way to the highway.

are you kidding me? no really, are you? god?

ugh. it's 561...

and for my stupidity i am now being punished.

nov 6: it was nice meeting you again. (puke)
nov 6: if you want to goto the bears game let me know. (i do, but not with you)
nov 6: or do you want to goto buffalo tomorrow for the bears/bills game? (eww. id have to be on the same plane as you)
nov 6: ill probably have to stand in front of a fridge with the freezer open for a few hours to get used to the cold. (youre an idiot)
nov 8: hey whats up? heat/celtics - you wanna go? (i do, but not with you)
nov 8: are you in ny? how long will you be there? (omg leave me alone. you asked me this at winston's party)
nov 8: who has better pizza? chicago or ny? (chicago duh. now go away)
nov 8: if your trip to ny gets cancelled and you want to goto the game, let me know. courtside. (of course they are. and no, my work trip to ny will not get cancelled. thank christ.)
nov 8: bears next week if you would like to go. (dude are you retarded?)

dear winston, i hate you.