Yeah, I should be taking the “boss out of the office” time to do some homework, but I’m a little ADD right now. So instead I am going to share a little bit of my weekend with Kennice and Dave.
This past weekend those two assholes came up for a visit, and brought Kennice’s friend Lindsey. I must say that Lindsey faired very well spending the weekend with us. However, I haven’t spoken to them since they were stuck in traffic in Paw Paw, so I am not sure if Lindsey is still speaking to anyone.
Amazingly enough we all managed to stay out of jail or the hospital, so it was a good weekend.
On Sunday we got ready to cheer Allie on during her second Chicago Marathon. (Yeah she did it again; Mom and I are considering a Pysch Consult if she chooses to do it next year.)
We started the morning cheering her on at mile six and then again at mile nine. After mile nine we went to breakfast, joining us was my mom (Deej).
As we were eating breakfast, Deej decided to tell us this interesting story about how weird my sister is.
“When Allie was taking her sleep study courses she found out that men get erections during REM sleep. Well you know Allie only has that one bed in her studio, so when Brent comes to visit they sleep in the same bed. YOU SISTER timed when she figured Brent would go into REM and set her alarm clock for those times. Then she would take the dog out for a walk.”
~~everyone starts laughing~~
Of course because of this we all felt the need to make inappropriate REM comment. A couple minutes later we were paying the bill. Dave owed me from the night before and he offered to pay mine and Deej’s portion since they added up to last night’s total.
“Well mom, looks like Dave is going to take care of you. I guess you’ll have to put out now.”
Without missing a beat my mom responds with, “I’ll just wait until he goes into REM.”
Yep, that’s my mom!!!! If any of you are wondering where I get it……it’s from her. All of it.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Creepy Old Men Part 2
This is what happens when you are working on something and are half paying attention to the person talking to you….
Friend #1 comes back in looking for boss man. I am trying to get this file done and emailed off prior to 3:00, so I am half listening to him talk at me.
Friend #1: “So, as a single 25 year old….what would it take to get you to go out with an attractive guy who’s almost 40??”
Me not really paying attention: “Tickets to the Bears vs. Packers game on New Years Eve.”
F: “Drinks?”
M: “Yep”
F: “Sex?”
Me making a BAD BAD BAD joke: “depends on how much I have to drink.”
~~Then it hits me what I am saying and that I am not just joking around with my friends.~~
F: “Sounds like a plan, I’ll work on those tickets.”
M: “Ummm….I was KIDDING about the sex.”
F: “Damn…to bad. What about the game.”
M: “I don’t kid about the Bears.”
F: “So if I got tickets you would go with me??”
M: “Yes, but it wouldn’t be a date. It would be me using you for Bears tickets and you being able to tell all your friends lies about what happened.”
F: “And you’re ok with that??”
M: “Look, I want tickets to that game more then anyone has any idea. If it means you telling your friends lies, fine, be pervy old dude. They probably won’t believe you anyway.”
F: “God you’re funny. Ok deal. If I can get tickets we’ll go. I promise not to lie about it to anyone you know.”
M: “Sounds like a plan. For the record, after this game I will never entertain the idea of going out with you again.”
F: “Deal.”
Ok, I would rather go with a friend, someone I actually enjoy spending time with. But we all know I’m going to be 100% focused on the game.
Should I feel dirty??? B/c I don’t. I really want those tickets.
Friend #1 comes back in looking for boss man. I am trying to get this file done and emailed off prior to 3:00, so I am half listening to him talk at me.
Friend #1: “So, as a single 25 year old….what would it take to get you to go out with an attractive guy who’s almost 40??”
Me not really paying attention: “Tickets to the Bears vs. Packers game on New Years Eve.”
F: “Drinks?”
M: “Yep”
F: “Sex?”
Me making a BAD BAD BAD joke: “depends on how much I have to drink.”
~~Then it hits me what I am saying and that I am not just joking around with my friends.~~
F: “Sounds like a plan, I’ll work on those tickets.”
M: “Ummm….I was KIDDING about the sex.”
F: “Damn…to bad. What about the game.”
M: “I don’t kid about the Bears.”
F: “So if I got tickets you would go with me??”
M: “Yes, but it wouldn’t be a date. It would be me using you for Bears tickets and you being able to tell all your friends lies about what happened.”
F: “And you’re ok with that??”
M: “Look, I want tickets to that game more then anyone has any idea. If it means you telling your friends lies, fine, be pervy old dude. They probably won’t believe you anyway.”
F: “God you’re funny. Ok deal. If I can get tickets we’ll go. I promise not to lie about it to anyone you know.”
M: “Sounds like a plan. For the record, after this game I will never entertain the idea of going out with you again.”
F: “Deal.”
Ok, I would rather go with a friend, someone I actually enjoy spending time with. But we all know I’m going to be 100% focused on the game.
Should I feel dirty??? B/c I don’t. I really want those tickets.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Creepy Old Men
“The first meeting of the Middle Aged Men’s’ Dating Club can now come to order.”
Ok, so that wasn’t exactly what was said in the office yesterday afternoon but it should have been.
Yesterday, my boss, his two friends and a client were having a detailed (creepy) conversation about middle aged dating. Sam*, the guy in my office, was listening from his desk and not taking part in the conversation as his wife would probably kill him.
Let’s meet the characters:
Boss: In his 50s, married with a kid but thinks he is a real life Casanova.
Friend 1: In his late thirties, attractive, never married, no children and seems to have an interesting dating life.
Friend 2: In his middle to late 40s, not chewed on but no Brad Pitt, divorced, two kids and apparently is having some trouble in his love life.
Client: In his middle to late 40’s, also not chewed and definitely not Brad Pitt, divorced, two kids and recently engaged.
So these gentlemen are sitting around my boss’s desk talking about the perils of dating and I am sitting at my desk (behind all this) trying not to listen. Unfortunately, my ears work very well and they are being loud.
The topic of the meeting apparently was why women/girls in their mid to late twenties do not want to date guys their ages.
So I am doing a pretty good job at ignoring the group when I heard this:
Friend 1: “I don’t have any problem meeting chicks. I mean I do most of it at the bars in Chicago, but I’m not really looking for anything long term.”
Friend 2: “It used to bother me, but then I realized that the reason they won’t go for it is because they’re afraid.” Snickering from the “men.” “No really! When they look at guys like us they see a nice stable guy who has potential for a real commitment.”
Client: “Good point.”
At the same time our client was giving his male support I apparently made a face along with a “yeah right” type sound.
Boss: “Dear, and I mean dear in a strictly professional manner, you’re of that age what’s you impute.”
Me: “Oh, no. I’m going to bow out of this little sharing circle.”
Client: “No really, we want your opinion. It will be first hand knowledge, straight from the source.”
Me: “No you really don’t want me to answer that question.”
This goes on for a little bit longer before I cave and give in.
“Ok, now I know you’re all really great guys…BUT….the reason that someone MY age probably won’t date someone like you has nothing to do with commitment. It has to do with the fact that you are TWENTY years older then I am AND you have kids, and not just little kids. Your kids are closer to my age then you are.”
Friend 2: “REALLY?!”
Me: “Yeah, plus the minute a guy your ages comes up to us at a bar we’re already laughing and making ‘creepy old guy’ and ‘he’s my dad’s age’ type comments.”
Client 1, laughing: “Harsh! Oh well, sorry guys.”
Me: “While we’re being honest. You’re not much better. You’re almost forty, single and hitting on women 15 years younger. Plus most of the time we date older guys b/c they’re more mature, but older is like 5 years older. Anything around 15-20 plus years older we’re dating because they have money and we’re hoping they die and leave everything to us. Anna Nicole style.”
Everyone laughed at the last comment. Sadly, I was only half joking.
The conversation shifted away from me (since I don’t think they liked what I was saying).
Sadly, soon the topic went to sex, and I was getting kind of sick.
Have you ever been around middle aged men talking about sex?? Especially sex with young women?? Their current conquest and desires??
Well, lucky you because I had to sit through it and so I decided to take action.
Me: "Do you realize this is sexual harassment?"
Friend #2 "How is this sexual harassment?"
Me: "Well, technically its b/c your making me feel threatened / uncomfortable but honestly......it's b/c I'm afraid that after hearing about your sex life I will never again be able to have one of my own without getting ill."
Yes…..I know….I’m an asshole.
Shortly thereafter the meeting was adjourned and the men dispersed with the plan to creep out young women all over Chicago, and I got back to researching what mind altering drugs would be able to erase this conversation from my memory.
Ok, so that wasn’t exactly what was said in the office yesterday afternoon but it should have been.
Yesterday, my boss, his two friends and a client were having a detailed (creepy) conversation about middle aged dating. Sam*, the guy in my office, was listening from his desk and not taking part in the conversation as his wife would probably kill him.
Let’s meet the characters:
Boss: In his 50s, married with a kid but thinks he is a real life Casanova.
Friend 1: In his late thirties, attractive, never married, no children and seems to have an interesting dating life.
Friend 2: In his middle to late 40s, not chewed on but no Brad Pitt, divorced, two kids and apparently is having some trouble in his love life.
Client: In his middle to late 40’s, also not chewed and definitely not Brad Pitt, divorced, two kids and recently engaged.
So these gentlemen are sitting around my boss’s desk talking about the perils of dating and I am sitting at my desk (behind all this) trying not to listen. Unfortunately, my ears work very well and they are being loud.
The topic of the meeting apparently was why women/girls in their mid to late twenties do not want to date guys their ages.
So I am doing a pretty good job at ignoring the group when I heard this:
Friend 1: “I don’t have any problem meeting chicks. I mean I do most of it at the bars in Chicago, but I’m not really looking for anything long term.”
Friend 2: “It used to bother me, but then I realized that the reason they won’t go for it is because they’re afraid.” Snickering from the “men.” “No really! When they look at guys like us they see a nice stable guy who has potential for a real commitment.”
Client: “Good point.”
At the same time our client was giving his male support I apparently made a face along with a “yeah right” type sound.
Boss: “Dear, and I mean dear in a strictly professional manner, you’re of that age what’s you impute.”
Me: “Oh, no. I’m going to bow out of this little sharing circle.”
Client: “No really, we want your opinion. It will be first hand knowledge, straight from the source.”
Me: “No you really don’t want me to answer that question.”
This goes on for a little bit longer before I cave and give in.
“Ok, now I know you’re all really great guys…BUT….the reason that someone MY age probably won’t date someone like you has nothing to do with commitment. It has to do with the fact that you are TWENTY years older then I am AND you have kids, and not just little kids. Your kids are closer to my age then you are.”
Friend 2: “REALLY?!”
Me: “Yeah, plus the minute a guy your ages comes up to us at a bar we’re already laughing and making ‘creepy old guy’ and ‘he’s my dad’s age’ type comments.”
Client 1, laughing: “Harsh! Oh well, sorry guys.”
Me: “While we’re being honest. You’re not much better. You’re almost forty, single and hitting on women 15 years younger. Plus most of the time we date older guys b/c they’re more mature, but older is like 5 years older. Anything around 15-20 plus years older we’re dating because they have money and we’re hoping they die and leave everything to us. Anna Nicole style.”
Everyone laughed at the last comment. Sadly, I was only half joking.
The conversation shifted away from me (since I don’t think they liked what I was saying).
Sadly, soon the topic went to sex, and I was getting kind of sick.
Have you ever been around middle aged men talking about sex?? Especially sex with young women?? Their current conquest and desires??
Well, lucky you because I had to sit through it and so I decided to take action.
Me: "Do you realize this is sexual harassment?"
Friend #2 "How is this sexual harassment?"
Me: "Well, technically its b/c your making me feel threatened / uncomfortable but honestly......it's b/c I'm afraid that after hearing about your sex life I will never again be able to have one of my own without getting ill."
Yes…..I know….I’m an asshole.
Shortly thereafter the meeting was adjourned and the men dispersed with the plan to creep out young women all over Chicago, and I got back to researching what mind altering drugs would be able to erase this conversation from my memory.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Do You Have Your Cuddle Pants???
Been a while hasn’t it??? Yeah, between work, school and studying I have little time to be witty and entertaining. Plus, I’ve actually been very busy at work and nothing to funny has happened.
However last night I hung out with Erica, which is always entertaining.
While having drinks at the Gin Mill we entertained ourselves and Paul, but mostly ourselves, with stories of our hockey days. And by hockey days I mean the nights we spent being assholes at hockey games.
Some of the fun times remembered:
One of the hockey players once referred to his sweatpants as his “cuddle pants,” Erica and I proceeded to make it our mission to refer to him as cuddle pants all the time. This included heckling him at the games. He even asked our friend WHY those two girls he hangs out with call him cuddle pants….
One guy on the team had a dad who worked as a recruiter for the Carolina Hurricanes. Coincidently, said player AND about half the team were drafted by the Hurricanes.
Hockey hair, mullets, were all the rage halfway through the year.
Erica and I took this information and made a cheer. Unfortunately, you will not know the tune of the cheer but here are the lyrics. I would say the first part and she would give an answer or repeat. Erica’s parts are done in italics.
“Are those not your CUDDLE PANTS??”
“YES THESE ARE MY CUDDLE PANTS!!!!”
“Whose Dad works for Carolina?”
“TROY’S DAD WORK FOR CAROLINA!!!”
“Do you eat your vegetables??”
“YES I EAT MY VEGETABLES!!!”
BROCCOLI!!
BROCCOLI!!
NEPOTISM!!!
NEPOTISM!!!
CUDDLEPANTS!!
CUDDLEPANTS!!!
Brad Fast……get a haircut!! (snap fingers) (said by all)
Yeah, it doesn’t seem that funny on paper, but when its live its so much better. Or at least we think its funny, and Paul laughed. (Well….he had been drinking)
We also reminisced about showing up to the MSU vs U of M hockey game completely wasted and almost getting thrown out of the Slap Shots. They wrote a strongly worded letter to us the next day.
~~~~ Look, I’m shaking I’m so scared.~~~
Look, its hockey. Grow a pair cupcake. As I remember I told the girl in charge (who was a bitch and hated us. Probably b/c we were always leading the fun cheers and she was a acne prone bitch who no one liked.) “Listen….its hockey. There’s mean things said and swearing. Grow a pair and cheer like a real fan…or shut the fuck up and go watch golf.”
Then there was the time we went to College Night at the Joe to see MSU play scum and the guy behind us was yelling nasty things about our school and us, at one point and time he called us “bitches” and “sluts.”
Finally I turn around to him and was like “HEY MULLET!! Yeah you! Listen, don’t insult my education because we all know that the bigger the mouth on the u of m fan, the less likely they were to have gone there.”
He starts to defend himself.
“Well, did you? No? Yeah didn’t think so. Now stop calling us bitches before I tell security you’re harassing innocent young women and they send your ass home to the trailer.”
We relived these and other memories as we were playing our own version of hockey at the Mill; which was just Erica and I flicking ice cubes at each other to “score” while Paul drank more and probably hoped the insanity wasn’t contagious.
However last night I hung out with Erica, which is always entertaining.
While having drinks at the Gin Mill we entertained ourselves and Paul, but mostly ourselves, with stories of our hockey days. And by hockey days I mean the nights we spent being assholes at hockey games.
Some of the fun times remembered:
One of the hockey players once referred to his sweatpants as his “cuddle pants,” Erica and I proceeded to make it our mission to refer to him as cuddle pants all the time. This included heckling him at the games. He even asked our friend WHY those two girls he hangs out with call him cuddle pants….
One guy on the team had a dad who worked as a recruiter for the Carolina Hurricanes. Coincidently, said player AND about half the team were drafted by the Hurricanes.
Hockey hair, mullets, were all the rage halfway through the year.
Erica and I took this information and made a cheer. Unfortunately, you will not know the tune of the cheer but here are the lyrics. I would say the first part and she would give an answer or repeat. Erica’s parts are done in italics.
“Are those not your CUDDLE PANTS??”
“YES THESE ARE MY CUDDLE PANTS!!!!”
“Whose Dad works for Carolina?”
“TROY’S DAD WORK FOR CAROLINA!!!”
“Do you eat your vegetables??”
“YES I EAT MY VEGETABLES!!!”
BROCCOLI!!
BROCCOLI!!
NEPOTISM!!!
NEPOTISM!!!
CUDDLEPANTS!!
CUDDLEPANTS!!!
Brad Fast……get a haircut!! (snap fingers) (said by all)
Yeah, it doesn’t seem that funny on paper, but when its live its so much better. Or at least we think its funny, and Paul laughed. (Well….he had been drinking)
We also reminisced about showing up to the MSU vs U of M hockey game completely wasted and almost getting thrown out of the Slap Shots. They wrote a strongly worded letter to us the next day.
~~~~ Look, I’m shaking I’m so scared.~~~
Look, its hockey. Grow a pair cupcake. As I remember I told the girl in charge (who was a bitch and hated us. Probably b/c we were always leading the fun cheers and she was a acne prone bitch who no one liked.) “Listen….its hockey. There’s mean things said and swearing. Grow a pair and cheer like a real fan…or shut the fuck up and go watch golf.”
Then there was the time we went to College Night at the Joe to see MSU play scum and the guy behind us was yelling nasty things about our school and us, at one point and time he called us “bitches” and “sluts.”
Finally I turn around to him and was like “HEY MULLET!! Yeah you! Listen, don’t insult my education because we all know that the bigger the mouth on the u of m fan, the less likely they were to have gone there.”
He starts to defend himself.
“Well, did you? No? Yeah didn’t think so. Now stop calling us bitches before I tell security you’re harassing innocent young women and they send your ass home to the trailer.”
We relived these and other memories as we were playing our own version of hockey at the Mill; which was just Erica and I flicking ice cubes at each other to “score” while Paul drank more and probably hoped the insanity wasn’t contagious.
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