Friday, February 13, 2009

Mail Time!


This made it's way into my inbox today...


FROM: Nanci Ross


Recently a "Husband Super Store" opened where women could go to choose a husband from among many men. It was laid out in five floors, with the men increasing in positive attributes as you ascended. The only rule was, once you opened the door to any floor, you HAD to choose a man from that floor; if you went up a floor, you couldn't go back down except to leave the place, never to return.

A couple of girlfriends went to the shopping center to find some husbands...

First floor: The door had a sign saying, "These men have jobs and love kids." The women read the sign and said, "Well, that's better than not having a job or not loving kids, but I wonder what's further up?" So up they went.

Second floor: The sign read, "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, and are extremely good looking." "Hmmm," said the ladies, "But, I wonder what's further up?"

Third floor: This sign read, "These men have high paying jobs, are extremely good looking, love kids and help with the housework." "Wow," said the women, Very tempting." But there was another floor, so further up they went.

Fourth floor: This door had a sign saying "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak." "Oh, mercy me," they cried, "Just think what must be awaiting us further on! So up to the fifth floor they went.

Fifth floor: The sign on that door said, "This floor is empty and exists only to prove that women are fucking impossible to please. The exit is to your left, we hope you fall down the stairs."

NOTE:Please send me any email or joke you think may be post-worthy, and I'll be sure to include it in DDD's mail posts going forward.

Happy Valentine's Day weekend. Rant will follow sometime tomorrow. My work here is far from finished.

-J

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

I cannot stop laughing.


via Pigeons and Planes

By now you've probably seen this video of some poor kid (who i now know as David) that was coming back from the dentist on morphine. Well now someone went ahead and mashed it up with Christian Bale's infamous set outburst. The result? Priceless. Enjoy!

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Woman Drivers



...and you all swear you are so good!

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

MTA= Making Therapy Acceptable



Sorry but after this morning I need a moment to vent.

My friends know that I often compare my love affair with Manhattan to a puppy, hopelessly in love with his abusive master. While the puppy loves his master's home, he still gets the crap kicked out of him every day. I know I'm not alone when I say so many small things on a daily basis drive us nuts. My pet peeves: slow walkers, sludge, the liquid that drops from people's air conditioning and makes you think that either it's raining or that you've been shit on by a pigeon, steam pipes that blow sewage-flavored mist in your face, the winding West Village grid, and the cross-town bus. But nothing gives me greater displeasure than my morning commute. I think I wake up every day thinking today is the day I will be an optimist, only to revert to cynicism by about 8:50 when the #2 train is stuck between Canal and Franklin. And did I mention someone keeps rubbing their purse into my ass??

My typical morning is waking up about 20 minutes late followed by a scramble to my train. Lately, my MetroCard is always empty (I never buy the monthly...an old habit from when I was traveling non-stop), and I am too often the one behind the idiot/tourist/fill-in-the-blank who can't swipe the card correctly and is relentless in punching buttons or pushing the metal arm to put some excitement in their day. Inevitably, I run downstairs to miss my first train as it has either just left or is in the process of being crammed into by delusional people who think a 12 foot ass can fit in about a foot of space. Next train is mine.

I cram myself into my own foot of space, with renewed hope that one day, right in front of me there will be a pretty woman. I daydream of her cracking a laugh at the predicament we're in, when she realizes that she is having a hard time keeping her breasts from rubbing into my elbow. I'm about to ask for her name when the train jolts, my eyes open, and there is no pretty girl in front of me. Instead, It's one of the following 5 every single day.


1) The "Take Up Two Seats Bubble Coat Fatty"

The fact that your jacket is made up of a series of water wings does not warrant two seats. This is bullshit. I can take the seat right next to you, slide you over slightly and deflate your coat so that more people can make it to work on time. One person, one seat. A win-win.


2) The "Shoulder to shoulder newspaper reader"

I got in an honest-to-god fight with a guy one morning for this: People are packed in the train like sardines, practically eating each other's breakfast, and some narcissictic fool slaps open The Wall Street Journal and flaps his arms around like a goddamn pterodactyl, over and over, to turn his sorry pages. Nothing, I mean nothing gets me more irate than those who are oblvious to the rest of us they share the planet with. (Do you hear that walking crack-berry addicts?)


3) The Ponytail

Ponytail Girl, you may be a little more innocent than the Down Coat Douche Bag, or Mr.Important Newspaper Reader but honestly, screw you anyway. If I wanted a mouthful of your hair I'd go to your house and lick your pillow. Please be careful where you are swinging that horse mane and be aware of those behind you. Thank you :).


4) Hot Breath

This is an easy one: Brush your last-night's onion eating, plaque covered, coffee stained teeth before you even think about breathing over anyone's shoulder. No excuses-ever.


5) The Roller Case carrier

Instead of taking up space, take a cab. The only thing that should be on wheels in here is this train. If that thing scuffs my shoes or trips me one more time ,or some other asshole pushes me down because he thinks he has space and can't see your bag, you're going to have to file a claim for lost luggage.


People, have I missed anyone here?