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Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Tuesday, July 31, 2007


So is Best Week Ever.

Richmond you're awesome.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Unnecessary Celebrity Gossip

Jimmy Fallon is set to take over Conan O'Brien.

Faith Hill breaks it down for fans: "You don’t go grabbin’ somebody else’s, somebody’s husband’s balls, you understand me? That’s very disrespectful.”

I'm just waiting for Meryl Streep to start doing porn and for Lindsay Lohan to stop looking like Stiffler's Mom (seriously, look at this shot:

and tell me that La Lohan doesn't look like the recently botoxed PTA member at your son's elementary school who just can't quit talking about the wonders Vitamin E has done for her skin). Forget famine and pestilence. Those are the real horsemen of the apocalypse.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Overheard in Chicago

[Setting: Subway, 2:30PM-ish]

Man in Suit on Cell Phone: Yeah...uh huh...right....no I agree...I thought Lawrence was on that one...yeah...right....I completely agree and I think the thing to keep in mind is that teamwork makes the dream work...

Chances that man is not a d-bag: 0%
Chances that I will use that phrase at every available opportunity: 100%


Saturday, July 28, 2007

The Little Things

I just bought a tiny bottle of gin from a slightly mulleted man who ended the transaction by giving me finger guns and advising me to "stay beautiful." Sometimes when ridiculously delightful things like that happen, I can't help but think that the world is an awesome place.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Questions I've Been Asked on Dates In the Past Seven Months:

* Have you ever kissed a girl? Would you consider it?

* You've really never hooked up with your guy friends? Never?

* So when do you turn 21?

* I've been with guys before, is that a problem for you?

* Is your sister hot?

* Would you like to come to my birthday party next week? It's a 48-hour party on my parents farm where all of my friends that are in bands will be playing for two days straight. Also I'm dressing like Jesus and all of my guests are coming as my followers, so, you know, wear a robe or something. You do own a robe right?*

* Would you rather be really hot but have explosive diarrhea once a day or be kinda hot and have no intestinal difficulties at all?

* Do you bruise easily?

Dating is like an explosion of uncomfortable questions.

* I was kind of charmed by this one.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Random Question

I'm trying to sell a laptop on Craigslist and I keep getting these weirdly personal responses that outline traumatic reasons why I should ship the thing to Nigeria or Turkey or Kansas instead of selling it locally. In the past week the thing has been listed, I've gotten reasons ranging from war to research to fulfilling a dead man's dying wish for his son on why I not only should, but NEED to ship this thing somewhere around the world. I've gotten maybe 10 e-mails and all of the stories sound creepily similar with each buyer offering to pay me in money order form. Do people pay for things in money orders anymore? I'm really uncomfortable giving out my address. When I think about it, I have weird daydreams of a trench-coated detective dragging my bloated corpse out of the Chicago River, all the while shaking his head and mumbling "laptop...Craigslist...Jesus, another one...the world is cruel." Has anyone else had a problem or success selling stuff on Craigslist?

Monday, July 23, 2007

Reason #87 Why I Love My Neighborhood

Every day I pass by this:

And it makes me giggle and think of this:

I am a woman of simple, media-driven tastes.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Open Letter

Dear Maternity Store I Passed Tonight:

Your window display scares the shit out of me.

I'm not sure if this child is trying to suckle the armless mannequin or if the mannequin just can't defend itself, you know, given the armless situation and all. I am sure that the idea of a child that big trying to aggressively suckle me or anyone else in a retail display window is definitely the creepiest thing on earth...and this is coming from someone who was once hit on by a pedophile. Next time, I suggest letting taxidermy animals do your selling for you. Just a thought.



Monday, July 16, 2007

Overheard in Chicago

[Setting: Chicago subway, 3AM]

Dude #1: Oh dude, you are sooooo wasted. You're wasted like, I don't know, wasted.

Dude #2: Hey, I got a question. Why do people live in the city? Fuck the city man. Seriously, fuck that place. I'm never movin out of the suburbs.

Dude #1: Yeah, fuck the city.

Dude #2: Fuck the whole fuckin city.

Dude #1: Wait, did you drive to the el? Did we drive to the el?

Dude #2: Shit man, that's what you do in the suburbs.

Dude #1: Oh you're too drunk to drive home dude. You are f'ed. You are f'ed right in the doodle man. I mean right IN the doodle.

Dude #2: Yeah, the suburbs rule.

Telling people that they're f'ed in the doodle is now one of my favorite past times.


Friday, July 13, 2007

The Great American Mustache Experiment

There are few things we here at Post-GradNothing Headquarters find more majestic than a full-fledged mustache. All 240 of us (220 if you count the midgets as half-people) who work round the clock to bring you untimely, oftentimes completely incoherent updates agree that the stache is the limosine of the face. Nothing says I AM A VOLCANIC ERUPTION OF MANLINESS more than covering your upper lip with a thick canopy of hair. I mean, just look at the difference:

Burly Walrus of a Man:

Took His Sister to Prom, Pees Sitting Down:

In fact, right this second, I can't think of ANYTHING more majestic than a mustache except for maybe a bald eagle with a mustache. Since they're so elusive in nature, I went ahead and photoshopped one just to show you what that level of majesty would look like*. I also threw Cobra Commander in there too to show you that a mustachioed eagle is even more powerful than G.I. Joe's most cunning nemesis:


To celebrate the mustache and all that it's done for this fine, fine country, I'd like to invite you to participate in a social experiment. I'm looking for at least one volunteer to grow the finest stache they can muster [beards excluded], wear it around for a few days, then allow me to ask some fairly ridiculous questions about how it has impacted their lives and post the results along with photos. Participants who...um, participate will be laureled with online praise as well as a fun pak (tm) of thank you prizes which may or may not include a tiny plastic hot dog** from this store.*** Plus, I mean, you'll have a full-grown mustache which, as we all know, is its own reward (Am I right ladies?). If anyone is interested, drop a comment or e-mail me at postgradnothing@gmail.com. Grow it for glory.

* Did funny images exist before Photoshop? I don't think so.

** I'm really dying to send someone a ridiculously tiny plastic hot dog in the mail. Don't let me down internet.

*** I chose Uncle Fun's because it's like the greatest yard sale you've never been to AND the logo features a pretty great touchy uncle stashe.


Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Conversations With the Ex

Other Chris: Hey, I'm calling to tell you I'm a genius!

Me: Oh yeah?

O.C.: Oh yeah! Remember how I used to keep my money in a coffee can? Well I learned that the problem with that is that it's just as easy to take money out of the coffee can as it is to put it in. Today I drilled a hole in a San Pellegrino bottle to put my money in. If I want to buy anything big, I'm going to have to be really committed and break the bottle by shooting it with a beebee gun.

Me: Why don't you just put your money in a savings account?

O.C.: [Long pause, overly dramatic sigh]. Jesus Chris, because last time I checked, it is illegal to shoot your money out of a savings account at a bank.

Me: Sometimes I miss you very much.


Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Conversations From Last Week

Setting: Walking down the street past a giant cemetary

Overly Friendly Slightly Mentally Unstable Homeless Man: Hey there young lady.

Me: Hey there yourself.

OFSMUHM: It's awfully hot today.

Me: Yeah it'd be nice if it cooled down 10 degrees or so.

OFSMUHM: I'm Ernie. What's your name?

Me: Hi Ernie, I'm Chris.

OFSMUHM: I had a girlfriend named Chris once. I loved her so much, but she's gone now.

Me: I'm so sorry to hear that.

OFSMUHM: She was beautiful. Got hit by a car while crossing the street. I thought I would never get through that. [looks at giant cemetary we are still walking past]

Me: My god, that's terrible. I'm so sorry.

OFSMUHM: I always wanted to get me another girlfriend named Chris.

Me: ...............................

OFSMUHM: Do you....

Me: Have to run. Take care Ernie. Drink lots of fluids.


Saturday, July 07, 2007

My Humps

Someone just sent me a link to a group of boys in Alabama who perform air hump routines to Pretty Ricky songs then broadcast them on the internet. They say that your life begins the day you meet the love of your dreams. I say it begins the first time you lay eyes on a bunch of 19 year olds taking turns humping the same ottoman. My favorite part of that video is that they take time in the beginning to introduce each individual member. I feel like that's a nice ice breaker so when I think to myself, "Man, who is the tall one? I really admire his classic yet contemporary technique," I'll know that the answer is Pipelayer. Things like this make me curse the fact that they haven't invented time travel yet because there's nothing I want to do more than fast forward five years to see Satisfaktion try to explain to a date why he talking about high school makes him weep and hide in a closet.

Although all six Peer Pressure videos are glorious in their own way, I'm kind of partial to this one simply because you have no idea what's going on in the beginning and then BAM! humping teenagers slithering in from the sides! Chaos! Mayhem! Also why are they wearing surgical masks in that video? Is the couch too contaminated to dry hump? Why stick to Pretty Ricky? Are other R&B artists not hump worthy enough? These questions, I fear, may never be answered but one thing's for sure, Peer Pressure does private parties and I'm turning 26 in October.


Friday, July 06, 2007

Roadtrip Wrap-Up (Truncated! Just Like Extra Long Decimals!)

There are few things better than the Great American Roadtrip. Barring skiing down a slope of ice cream or tongue-wrestling with the MIT math league, I honestly can't think of anything better than piling in the car with a bunch of friends and driving somewhere new. My trip this weekend was phenomenally phenomenal. We ate a boatload of beef jerky, I got to make as many awful puns as I wanted, and it felt pretty good to be around people say things like "babies are nature's kickballs." I would tell you more about our trip - which spanned several states and involved adventures like riding a duck-shaped van that transformed into a boat through a Mississippi River canal - but it would be a crime to tell those stories without photographic illustrations. I mean how can you explain just how gross the world's oldest corndog is without pictures? Riddle me that. As soon as I get my grubby paws on some photos (the ones I took are snuff film-level grainy), I'll upload them along with tales of triumph and tribulation.

In the mean time, Chicago and I are officially one-month into our red-hot love affair as of tomorrow. I'm way into this place, almost (but not quite) as much as I was into wearing pants like this all the way up until 1995 or so. As obnoxious as it is to put in print, I can officially say that I'm head over heels in love with here, more so than I've ever been with a place in my life, and when my weekend visitor gets here tomorrow, I plan to celebrate in style with some frushi followed by an evening at a fairly swanky jazz bar. There will be gin. There will be jazz. I am hoping that dancing will be involved. I feel like it might be impossible not to fall in love with a place when there's gin and jazz and dancing. That's like holding the Triforce of Badassery*. Photos and stories to come when my camera-savvy friends upload them. In the meantime, crack open some Bombay Sapphire, turn on some Coltrane, and think of me.

* In this scenario, replace courage, wisdom, and power with awesomeitude, face-melting sweetness, and rockstardom. Also replace whatever you thought of me before reading that last sentence with "total fucking dork."

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Come On and Feel the Illinoise

Chicago is awesome, mainly because I am all of a sudden around friends who say things like "hey, I quit my job. Let's drive somewhere weirdly awesome this weekend." And so it is. From today until Tuesday, I'm with my homeboyz Steve and Dan searching for the most bizarrely bizarre things this nation has to offer...or at least the things we can drive to in a weekend. Today we drove to Rockome Gardens in Amazing Arcola! Illinois, the nation's largest Amish community (I think). We stopped there because we read an article about Chick-Tac-Toe, a game in which willing opponents battle a live chicken in a game of tic-tac-toe. Rockome is basically an amusement park for Amish people who apparently get their kicks playing normal games with livestock. Unfortunately, there were no chickens available today for Chick-Tac-Toe, but we did see a lot of wooden guns and wigwams. Also, they re-enact WWII battles every 15 minutes or so Rockome Gardens. I mean, they have a tank and a haunted cavern and an Elvis impersonation band and people dressed like Abe Lincoln. It was like walking through a piece of my own brain. We also saw an Amish volleyball game and took shots of sour candy out of test tubes while standing in a boiling-hot antique museum, looking at something that may very well have been a turn of the century baby coffin. Needless to say, it was delightfully surreal. Right now I'm in Memphis trying to convince the boys to call me "Pretty Pretty Princess" for the rest of the weekend and watching a sweet-ass special on snake fetuses. Photos and stories to come when I get back. See you kids on Tuesday.