Staying au courant via Fox news
Since those last two posts were way too interospective and cereberal, here’s a good link to something totally ridiculous. Enjoy.
Since those last two posts were way too interospective and cereberal, here’s a good link to something totally ridiculous. Enjoy.
Back to names: Since I’m a total hypocrite like the rest of you—as I sit here namecalling my ex/current/semicurrent nebulous boyfriendouchbag figures—my friend Natalie and I were discussing the sweet names that we’d like our ex/current/semicurrent nebulous boyfriendouchbag figures to coo us with.
Because really (and I say this quite often, just to confirm its veracity), all I really want is a semi attractive and mildly sane person who gives me loads and loads of attention and calls me pet names. But only, of course, pet names that I like. Use the wrong one, and it’s game over.
me: I do understandWhen my friend was recounting a therapy session yesterday, it occured to me that we always give our potential dating prospects (and outright boyfriends even) terrible monikers. Friend’s therapist suggested that maybe we do this because we are, in some subconscious way, closing the guy off. That we won’t call him by his first name—despite knowing it—is in some sense, a sign of reject.
Eh. I don’t know. That’s giving our simple-minded selves (my friend and me, that is—not the rest of you) a little too much credit here. I don’t call the guys I date by their first names because they’re douchebags. It’s not like I’m marrying any of them. For all intents and purposes, they will all become the same thing: an ex of some sort.
Besides, these nicknames distinguish the lot of them way better than an actual name. Nicks, Matts, and Bens are so totally fucking ubiquitous that effectively, they’re totally useless as identifying information.
For your enjoyment, you can get an intimate look at some of the names we’ve come up with in the past. Here are a few all-time favorites:
The old guy: Any guy more than 8 years older than us. Admittedly, this one is getting a bit overused and nebulous as the socially acceptable age gap for dating is becoming wider and wider.
S-guy: Guy with a very complex ethnic name that starts with an S. We know his name. He’s a douchebag.
J-guy: Jewish guy. Duh.
The cardiologist: The irony of this one is that this guy was doing his residency. He wasn’t even an f-ing cardiologist, but he introduced himself as one to get more girls. I guess the “cardiologist” is more appropriate here. Let’s play fair.
Autism: All kinds of awkward here. Sometimes I was dating a guy. Sometimes it was a vaccuum cleaner. Other times he resembled a seal.
British guy: We live in New York. This guy lives in London. That’s it. Game over.
Wet mop: The only conversation we could ever make was of the drink list and the dinner menu. A total wet mop.
All for now.
My sister interviews me before a date. A dose of nostalgia. (No audio.)
beautiful
Genetic Stair by Caliper Studio of Brooklyn is composed materially of polished stainless steel, white translucent Corian and low-iron glass. At home in the Manhattan apartment of two art collectors, it stands free from any wall, supported only at the top and bottom.(via notcot / We Heart Stuff)