Archive | August, 2010

Racking up Stats

30 Aug

He just sent me this. Amazing.

“Attached is a breakdown of my college statistics. I hope you’ll find them inspirational.”

Love that he didn’t calculate the final GPA.


A View to a Kill

29 Aug

I swear I must be the only person he feels like he can talk to about this stuff:

“In my apartment building there’s an open atrium type area where you can see into other people’s apartments depending on their blind situation. Tonight I noticed that I can see right into this one dude’s place, into his bedroom, where he has his computer area set up as follows: Big ass computer, box of tissues, box of Cheez-Its. It’s like Rear Window up in this bitch!”

Yes, just like the award winning Alfred Hitchcock classic “Rear Window.” Identical, almost.

Damnit, He’s Right

27 Aug

I hate it when he’s right.

“I was just thinking about you moving into your dorm flanked by Mom and Dad. You should try to get out of that somehow. Mom is annoying and Dad dresses like a well-educated child molester. You don’t want to start on such a bad foot with everyone at your new school. Plus if you show up alone people will think you’re some cool-ass kid who’s parents are dead.”

Doubt I can get out of them moving me in, since it’s next weekend my Mom gets teary-eyed whenever she talks about it. You can find out more about this at

A Lot to Look Forward To…

26 Aug

He sent the much anticipated “chart” he spoke of…

“Attached is a graph depicting the amount of fun you’re going to have over the course of your life. This is based on years of lab research and a lot of beers I just drank by myself while listening to Dave Matthews Band. Oh God, is that joke even funny anymore? Shit. Anyway, you’ll note that the majority of your fun will occur during college, and very little afterwards. Never forget that.”

It's all downhill after this!

Fun with Words!

25 Aug

He sent me and a bunch of other people (I guess his friends from college) this email today:

“I get embarrased because I always misspell the word embarassed. Then I thought of this handy memory device:

The vowels had to separate the two r’s and two s’s when they started a knife fight on the ballroom floor at the annual gala. Everyone, including the two r’s and two s’s (who were both very drunk) got¬†embarrassed.¬†Hope that helps you guys not make the same mistake.”

He means well.

You Be The Judge

23 Aug

Drunk Dialing

22 Aug

He called me absolutely rip-roaring wasted again last night. I need to figure out a way to record these somehow. The majority of our conversation was him yelling “I’m a man!” over and over again. Then he started to sing “Sweet Caroline” but I think his phone died. Or he did. One or the other for sure.

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