In April 1992 I fell in love with National Lampoon Magazine.
I bought my first issue at a local drugstore and raced home, excited to find out if this would be a worthy successor to my Mad Magazine fascination as a child. I had matured, albeit slightly, and was seeking a more sophisticated type of funny. I found it in National Lampoon. I decided after reading the issue that I would make it a life’s goal to write something worthy of the magazine’s inclusion. The problem was that as a sophomore in high school, I had never written anything. Plus, I was unfunny. Oh, and the National Lampoon quit publishing about a year later. I shelved the dream of being a writer and re-focused my efforts on trying to bone senior Ashley Ripley who once smiled at me in homeroom, to which I assumed meant she wanted this (note – pointing currently at self). She didn’t.READ MORE
If you know what this is, you've wasted your life.
I had to be talked into this year’s card.
My girlfriend was certain it would land big with our friends and family, but what did she know? I’d like to think, for my own self esteem, that I’m the only one in the relationship with a rapier wit. Turns out she was right and the card was well-received. Many even reported that it was my best card to date. The credit for this success lands 100% in Liz’s lap.READ MORE
This is an essay originally published at InThePowderRoom and is reprinted with permission. Also, these words were made funnier by the editorial goodness of Sarah del Rio.
In 2012, Bic released a line of pens designed exclusively for women. They were called Bic for Her™ and they were just like their regular pens except that they came in pink and purple. This made sense because women like pretty colors.READ MORE
I went to Nashville to see the eclipse because my dentist told me to.
Throughout my life, whenever anyone asks me to list my dream vacation destinations, I stare back with blank eyes. It has never occurred to me to cultivate places I’d like to visit. Even now, I have no idea of where I’d like to travel to next. I’ve never turned on the Travel Channel and I don’t find myself fantasizing of being anywhere other than where I currently am. That being said, I go on a fair number of trips. My only rule is that I never try to visit the same place twice. That’s for squares, if you ask me (you didn’t).READ MORE
The surgeon who was to perform the hernia operation told me I must first see another doctor who could run the appropriate clearance tests. I guess once you become a surgeon you don’t have to do the low-level stuff. Like how the guy who drives the garbage truck doesn’t leave the driver’s seat. He’s got a guy riding on the back who deals with the actual garbage.READ MORE
See? Not lying. Excited. And they hadn't even given me the good drugs yet.
I couldn’t have been more excited the day of the operation.
Only once had I been cut up before, and it was for this laser eye surgery vision thing. It’s not exactly the biggest deal. The doctor doesn’t make you wear a gown with the open fanny area. You’re not doped up with medical grade opiates. You can wear your business suit during the procedure. You open your eye lids, hold still for 20 seconds, and congrats, you now have eagle vision. You’re back in your cubicle by lunch.READ MORE
This is an essay originally published at InThePowderRoom and is reprinted with permission
Attention, small-chested women!
Have you ever been dumped because of your tiny bustline? Sure you have. As a man, let me first apologize for the horrendous treatment of flat-chested women. It’s not entirely our fault—we were raised on a steady diet of the Playboys our fathers kept stashed in the upstairs hall closet—but to expect all of you to have the perfect rack of a twenty-one-year-old Jenny McCarthy is unfair. You deserve as much attention as the large-chested gals receive.READ MORE
One of the funniest websites south of the Mason Dixon was In The Powder Room. Run by funnywoman Leslie Marinelli and edited by funnywoman Sarah del Rio, this site accepted my pitch of a monthly column where I reviewed products for women. Sadly, the site is currently on hiatus, but they have given me permission to repost content I had written exclusively for them. I’m proud of my work, as silly as it was. They were a great partner and supportive of my immature ramblings. If they ultimately decide on a permanent vacation, I will restart the column here. In the meantime, read some old stuff.READ MORE
Nothing to add, here. The image is way funnier than anything I could ever write.
To be fair, Allison tried on this one.
She wrote me a few days ago asking to bow out of this specific edition. Allison had just taken on two new clients and was now travelling a good chunk of the time. She kept attempting to write this piece but wasn’t happy with it. (After reading her drafts, I concur) Then she did that thing that all weirdos like her and I do – we go all or nothing. In a frazzled state she said, “I can’t commit to this any longer!” She was having a moment. I told her to have her moment, and that I’d handle this one. She’ll come back in the next one. She’s just a spaz.READ MORE