Recently I took a writing class with The Onion and started reporting about my weekly submissions.
Throughout the course we were taught the math behind The Onion’s News In Brief articles, the structure and composition of those articles, where to insert jokes, and how to tighten them up for maximum funny. I posted a few weeks worth of homework here, and then stopped. The reason for this is explained below.
Each week we learned a few “funny filters” which are types of jokes, and then sent home to write headlines and an article in those particular styles. For a while I would parrot back what I did in class. But I thought better of it in week four when we learned “shock.”
For “shock” jokes you wander out to the extreme edge of decency. Then you catapult yourself off the ledge into the abyss of darkness. That’s your base. After you find depravity, then you have to figure out a way to make “shock” funny. Because it’s actually very easy to be shocking. I think we can agree that telling a story to a friend where you called a nun the c-word would qualify as shocking. The friend might even chuckle, because often times we laugh at shocking statements. It would be a cheap laugh, however because it isn’t particularly funny. Nor is it an insightful or intelligent critique of society. Satire is The Onion’s goal, which means you must have a point of view.
Years ago I was walking with a girlfriend and we saw a nun running at full speed down the street on the sidewalk, wearing a habit. I asked, “You know why nuns are able to run so fast? Because they’re always being chaste.” It’s a dumb pun, but I like dumb puns so go jump in a lake.
To be able to complete the shock homework your mind has to go to some dark places. And mine did. The good news is that I was in a class filled with humor writers who have no boundaries. You were allowed to say pretty much anything without judgement. But this is a public blog. I wrote some truly terrible things for that exercise. I can share a few of what was submitted, but I won’t post everything. I think the reason for this is obvious. Some readers would get offended. And rightfully so. So I ain’t sharing it, because I don’t need the hate on Twitter.
Well, I’ll share two – these were the least disgusting headlines I penned.
- Apple Watch 85% Accurate Predicting Diabetes And 100% Accurate Predicting Nerds
- Valentine’s Day Difficult For Nation’s Unlovable Residents
I’m also willing to post my article because I think you can handle it. Excuse the timing issue as this was completed in mid-February and the article is a goof on the Super Bowl.
I guess the following article could be offensive to Philadelphia residents, but screw them. They know where they live.
Fictional Character Rocky No Longer Philadelphia’s Greatest Achievement
PHILADELPHIA-Fresh off last Sunday’s Super Bowl upset victory, the Philadelphia Eagles have dethroned fictional boxer Rocky Balboa as the city’s single greatest achievement, marking the first time anything noteworthy has occurred in Philadelphia since the movie’s release back in 1976. “Look, for the last 30 years we’ve been known for Rocky, cheesesteaks, the Liberty Bell, and quite honestly, that was it on the positive side of the ledger,” revealed mayor Jim Kenney, adding that the parade for the football players should be a historic city moment and that he hoped the residents would stop destroying the city in a drunken victorious rampage long enough to enjoy the event. “We also boast the most number of A.A. meetings per capita in the U.S., but we try to keep that quiet,” noted Kenney before wincing a moment later as he had forgotten this was an on the record interview.
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.
Here’s how the idea came to be.
Months ago I took Liz to go see one of my favorite stand-ups, Jen Kirkman. At some point during her set, Jen turned her attention to Hallmark Christmas movies. While the jokes about these movies were funny, I had never seen one (nor heard of them). But as I looked around the audience was howling. I would estimate that 75% of the audience were female, so I chalked it up to something that women know about, but men don’t. Like heavy spotting days.
Later that night Liz declared that this would be the theme of our holiday card. I tried to convince her that nobody would get the joke. Since I had never seen one of these movies, clearly the masses hadn’t either. Liz reassured me that, not unlike most of our arguments, she was correct. After more resistance from me, I was encouraged to shut up. Also, I didn’t have a better idea, so I relented and agreed to move forward.
We took to Google Images which, if you’re not familiar, is the best place to steal copyrighted images. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you Liz and I looked at forty Hallmark holiday movie posters before deciding on a winner. This took hours and contained some heated arguments. Should we pick the cover where the two main characters were playfully throwing snowballs at each other, or the one where the guy is trying to balance seventeen packages in his arms while the woman is staring at the camera shrugging? Eventually we selected one, but for the life of me I can’t remember why it was chosen.
Next, we needed a Photoshop expert. Via Fiverr I hired a graphic designer to do the superimposition. We had to go back and forth a few times, and ultimately he still made my face too big, but it was close enough.
I went back to make sure superimposition was a word, because I was pretty sure I had fabricated it. Turns out it’s legit! Use that at your next cocktail party to impress the babes.
Now again, I was concerned that the joke would fail. And I take a lot of pride with these dopey holiday cards. I try to make the jokes hit like a sledgehammer – obvious and vulgar. This time it wasn’t really a joke, per se. It was just a reminder of these dumb movies that Liz convinced me everybody (but me) knew about. A reference to a pop-culture juggernaut, if you will.
The cards went out and we waited for response. And, to my credit, a few people didn’t understand the reference. But out of the 100 or so cards that we sent, it was almost universally praised (unlike the quality of these movies).
I did finally watch one on Christmas Eve. It starred Alan Thicke (of course) and Candace Cameron (also, of course) and halfway through her trying save the ski lodge I nearly jammed a golf pencil into my jugular. If you’ve ever watched a Hallmark Christmas movie, you know how painful they are to absorb. But instead of ending my own life I retreated to the guest bedroom and yelled at the wall for a few minutes. That calmed me down and I was able to return in time to see dad and daughter reunite on Christmas day. Also, the ski lodge didn’t fold, so that was nice. And, even though the movie was complete garbage, watching Alan Thicke and Candace Cameron embrace while the credits rolled was admittedly satisfying. It felt like Christmas.
So, here’s the card, for those of you who didn’t make the mailing list cut. Enjoy.
Over the years I’ve been asked to do interviews. Most of the time they go live (like this one on InThePowderRoom). But other times, for reasons not disclosed to me, the interview never surfaces. Which is fine, of course. This has happened about a dozen times. I never take it personally aside from setting up a fake Twitter account to troll the publication incessantly with tweets about how the head editor sleeps with livestock and may be involved in terrorist sleeper cell recruitment.
When a website reaches out for an interview, I spend a decent amount of time putting together my answers. I have pride in my work and I care very much what people think. Plus, they might have an audience that isn’t yet familiar with me (unlikely) and is hungry to develop an unhealthy fan obsession with my written words (likely).
This most recent “lost interview” happened a month ago. A website I wasn’t familiar with reached out. I never bothered to look up the site before launching into the silliest answers I could craft. After I finished I thought it might make sense to check out their website. This particular site seems to be comprised of interviews with famous to barely-famous people. Since I’m in the “not famous at all” category, it became obvious to me that I was never going to see my dick jokes on their home page. And I don’t blame them. I’m sure the editor-in-chief had an intern email a bunch of bloggers and then when sthe intern pushed my answers across her boss’s desk, the boss went, “No – French people are boring. Pass.”
I did have a “star” moment a few months ago at a humor conference. I was there as an attendee and hanging out at a cocktail event on the first night. A woman came over with a pad and pen and interrupted a fabulous fourth trimester abortion joke that I was telling a group of people. She wanted an autograph. I thanked her for making me look like a big shot in front of my friends, then pulled her aside and told her if she ever interrupted me again I was going to remove the blade I carry in my sock and carve my autograph into her neck (neck tat jokes are very chic these days). She told me her name was Darlene so I wrote, “Marla – it was a pleasure meeting you. Nice tits! – D.J.”
Back to this most recent interview. Since I’m confident it’s not going to be published (it’s been over a month), I figured I’d share it with you here. Dolly Parton is currently their featured interview, and let’s face it, Dolly has a whole amusement park named after her and I do not. To go from Dolly one day to D.J. the next would be an admission that the site is folding. But let’s say that all the other interviews after Dolly fall through and they do publish mine. Odds are they’d whack up the content and not show you the best stuff. So, here’s the full, unedited session.
Since I’m not going to reveal the actual interview website, let’s pretend it was conducted by WeirdMexicanWrestlingMasksMonthly – a publication dedicated to the trends, styles, and fabrics of Lucha libre. You know,
those booths at your local street festival where tight fitting Latin face-masks are sold. I haven’t any clue who buys that crap (unless you are, in fact, a professional Mexican wrestler).
Complete Transcript of Interview with D.J. Paris by WeirdMexicanWrestlingMasksMonthly.
What is your full name?
D.J. Paris. Technically, that’s not my full name but you would think I was goofing around if I typed the whole thing out. Oh, and I’m a “third” as well.
It’s a long, Spanish name and kind of ridiculous. D.J. is easier.
Where do you live?
Lincoln Park, Chicago
If you were asked to describe yourself in one word, what would that word be?
Massivedong – that’s one word, yes?
What is your personal mantra? (The phrase in your heart and head that defines how your choices and how you live)
You can always be richer and thinner. Seriously, I believe that fulfillment comes from effort. Since all that we can control in this world is our own action, that’s what ultimately defines my happiness. The more I do, the better I feel.
Briefly tell us about you and your life.
I have a marketing job which eats up my daily 9am – 5pm. Since I love my career and get to bring my dog to the office I blog at night and on weekends.
What is the name of your blog? When was it launched?
ThoughtsFromParis. It launched April of 2010.
Share with us the primary focus of your blog and what you hope to accomplish through it.
As a writer I focus in three areas – humor, vulnerability, and truth. I write about my own life incorporating those three characteristics into each piece.
What I’m trying to do is find a way to entertain myself though writing. My goal when I sit down to write is that I want to read it back the next day surprised at my own brilliance. I wish I was joking.
List any blogger awards you have won.
I’ve never applied for a blog award so I have no idea. I think I’ve been nominated and won some stuff, but don’t ask me to remember specifics. Most recently I’m going to be the keynote speaker at BlogU this June.
Are you a Brand Ambassador and if so, for which companies?
Occasionally I’ll do a campaign for a brand but only if I’m a huge fan. In most instances I’ll contact the brand directly and tell them my idea. 95% of the time they don’t write back. Jerks.
Which social media outlet do you find most helpful? (Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, etc)
For me it’s Twitter. I have almost 150k followers. This sounds impressive until you realize that Paris Hilton (the other famous Paris) has 14 million followers. She’s also the highest paid DJ in the world. I’ll pause for a second while you recover from slamming your head into the desk repeatedly.
What is the one piece of advice you would give to anyone interested in beginning a blog?
If you care about people reading your blog, go find your audience. Make a list of blogs that have readers that might like your content. Start writing great comments on those blogs. Share posts on social media. Is it a lot of work? Yep. Does it work? Yes.
Share some names of favorite blogs you follow.
Well, I write for InThePowderRoom, and that’s about the funniest site out there right now. I don’t read a lot of other people’s blogs, but only because I’m self-obsessed. If anything I’ll pick up one of Woody Allen’s books, read a few pages, and then feel devastated that I’ll never be that funny.
Are you an entrepreneur or professional beyond your blog? Please share.
I was sitting around with my girlfriend recently and had an eureka moment. With all these subscription services I realized nobody has launched a “Period of the Month” club. Each month you’d get the hippest new tampon flooding the market (pun intended). Also, I’d throw in some bubble bath and a piece of
chocolate. It’s called “Cursebox.”
What one question have you always wanted to be asked? Write here and answer it as well.
Q. How do you have all your hair at 40 and why is it still so blonde?
A. (shrugs shoulders) DNA and shit?
Share a social cause or cause-based organization close to your heart.
Every other week I spend time with developmentally disabled men at an organization in Chicago called Misericordia. We hang out and do guy stuff. Lots of talking, watching TV and farting. It’s a great time and I’m honored that they choose my company.
When all is said and done, how do you want to be remembered?
Being remembered is unimportant to me, but what keeps me up and night is being on my deathbed and thinking, “I never went for it.” I want to die peacefully with the notion that I gave it my all. That being said, I hope many people cry at my funeral.
Once in a while I make a good life decision. Recently, I worked out an exclusive content agreement with beloved humor site InThePowderRoom. This means I write fresh stuff for them every month.
My deadline for this month’s article is Thursday. I’m nowhere near finished. It’s a funny idea but I need to cram in a few more jokes before submitting it to the head editor, Sarah. She and I go way back and the last thing either one of us wants is for her to have to tell me the piece sucks and to rewrite.
The column is where I review a woman’s product every month. And since I don’t understand women at all, I love the concept. A few months ago I wrote about The Diva Cup and last month about a cookie that is supposed to grow a woman’s boobs by up to three cup sizes. I’m writing this announcement here because I forgot to promote the cookie piece.
You should go read it right now.
I’m not one of those assholes that asks for comments or shares because I hate when writers do that. But if you want to write the publisher and tell her how fortunate she is to have my talents exclusive to her website, well, I’m not going to stop you. I’m not going to write you into my will or anything, but maybe I’ll visit you in a dream and engage you in an intense makeout session. I’ve been studying astral travel for a few months and it’s actually really easy to penetrate someone’s dreams. I do it all the time. Also, if you cheat in a dream, it’s not really your fault and it’s not considered adultery. You don’t even have to tell your partner. I certainly won’t!
Chicks only.
Above image is the Copyright of Hold My Purse Productions, LLC.
]]>In my effort to show appreciation for everyone that comments, I have committed to responding to each in 2014. The process is a lot of fun and often what you write is funnier and more poignant than what’s in my post. I started tonight by responding to fresh comments from the past few days. Then I went back in time.
I found a ton of comments that had never been replied to over the years.
For fun I decided to pick posts at random.
I thought it would be hilarious to respond to readers from 2010-2012. My system is set up to send an email to the comment author immediately after I reply. Therefore two hundred emails went out from post comments that were several years old. I’m sure many of the people no longer read my blog and probably didn’t know what to make of the notification.
Can you imagine how you’d react if two years after writing a blog comment you got a response?
First you wouldn’t remember the post or maybe even the blog. Then you’d click the link to see what this was all about and the post might spark a faint memory. You’d see your words in the comment section but not remember writing them. You would then notice my reply underneath with today’s date. Next you might spend a few moments wondering about the mental well-being of an blogger going back this far to write his readers.
Let me tell you – replying to two hundred comments is not an easy task. I attempted to conjure up a decent retort to each response. So essentially I spent four hours writing jokes tonight. I’m exhausted.
I also found emails (some over a year old) where people had written in and never received a response. I responded.
There are still several thousand comments with no replies. I’m not sure if I can ever fully empty that inbox. But I’ll try. It’s fun to go back and read what people responded toe. For example – I missed this the first time around but somebody attacked me this fall when I called myself a professional blogger. I was simply referring to that I make some dough from my site. Anyway, this reader got offended and wrote a nasty comment about how I wasn’t successful at writing.
One of you came to my aid and ripped this person apart. It was awesome. I had completely missed the exchange the first time around.
In going back I found people that had been commenting frequently and then disappeared. Did they get fed up with never receiving a reply? Did they stop enjoying my posts? Did they plumb forget about me? Maybe they just stopped reading blogs in general?
Bloggers have a special relationship with their commenters. It’s a shared intimacy and develops over time. I’m sad that some people have stopped commenting and I find myself missing them. Then again, there are newer people who are writing in and I’m excited for that, too.
Okay, my fingers are woozy. Time to go soak them in a bowl of that stuff old people bathe in.
photo credit: dirtygirlsuds via photopin cc
]]>In this note the person claimed to be having an affair with another of my readers. I thought this was the coolest thing. Two readers met on my blog and fell in love! When I inquired further, however, the person mentioned that both are currently married. That made me feel less good. I ceased inquiring.
I try to stay out of drama that doesn’t relate to me.
(but secretly, it’s sort of exciting, too.)
Another time a woman began to write regularly in the comment section of my posts. She was often placing jokes into her comments, and sometimes her jokes would skirt a sexual boundary. I always thought of these quips as funny one-liners, and never took them as serious pick-up attempts. Over time she revealed that her husband was in the military and stationed overseas. Then, in one comment she said something like, “I’d let you warm me up.” It was the punchline to a joke she had set up earlier, but it was a little over the line. I ignored it, but the readers didn’t. They eviscerated this person on my site calling her every name you would expect. I think even “hussy” was thrown around – which is one of my personal favorites.
The woman wrote me a tear-filled apology via email. Then she never commented again.
It’s been at least a year since any exciting gossip has transpired.
Well, it’s time to reset that counter back to zero!
This morning I received an email…
D.J. I’ve discovered a rather nasty little reference to my wife in the comments to your March 20, 2013 posting, “My Ex-Wife Got Married …”. The comment is from “Emily” and my wife’s name is XXXXXXXX. I would greatly appreciate it if you could remove the comment. I look forward to your response.
I went back through the post to search, and the comment “Emily” had written was hilarious. In it she referenced an old-coworker who had an unfortunate last name and also married a guy with an unfortunate last name. When you put them together it made a super-unfortunate last name. And of course, the woman had hyphenated both names. It was gold.
You know those Jay Leno jokes where he shows wedding announcements with funky last names? This was as solid as the best of those.
My initial response was to defend my reader. Screw that guy! A good joke is a good joke.
Then I started thinking more about the situation and I started to see the guy’s point. His wife had probably Googled her own name, found my site, and then read a comment about an ex-coworker goofing on her. She then asked her husband to email me and request that it be removed.
While I’ve only edited a comment once before (out of over 10k), I decided to kowtow this time. I think he was being over-sensitive, but it was the right thing for me to do.
I hated the idea of deleting someone’s comment so I just redacted the name portion of it. I’ve already explained the joke so I won’t reprint it here. You can look it up if you want.
Not fifteen minutes after I removed her name I received an email from the same guy thanking me. He must have been hitting refresh all day long. I never responded to his emails.
Thought I’d share a little ThoughtsFromParis behind-the-scenes drama with you.
Oh, and feel free to post ex-coworkers goofy last names. Most will never find out and we’ll all get a good laugh.
There are a lot of posts out there with these types of titles. Usually lists of stupid things people do on Twitter which cause the author to roll their eyeballs and not respond. You’ve seen these kind of posts before. There’s talk of Twitter etiquette and being courteous and not doing anything troll-like because we all know that blog authors are really important entities and are not to be fucked with.
This isn’t one of those kind of articles.
Because of the nature of my Twitter account, I submit a lot of jokes and one-liners. Probably three to five a day. I’m a decent joke writer so most of them hit and I receive a healthy amount of retweets and favorites. Some fall flat like this one that I just fired out while sitting on the toilet. I found it hilarious. Nobody else did.
Usually I get around ten to twenty responses per tweet. These are often attempts to best my own joke. Many times they do. I almost never respond, though.
Am I a colossal dick whose ego is so fragile he can’t accept someone being funnier than himself?
The truth is that I LOVE when a reader outwits me. It’s a highlight of my day. In a mildly-sick way I sort of use it to congratulate myself. I actually think, “I prompted that person to make a funny! I DID THAT.” It’s sort of messed up that I take credit for the genesis of someone else’s genius. I’ll bring it up with a shrink.
Aside from self-congratulation I dig your jokes because I, well, love to laugh. A good one-liner is not easy to craft. I am constantly amazed how many of you are truly funny people. Seriously, it’s inspiring. I can’t tell you how many times someone has written something that kicked me in the ass to produce better quality content. Not that everything I write is funny. But when you let me know that I’m not the most hilarious guy on the block, that drives me to write better stuff.
So, why don’t I reply to your tweets?
Whether this is a good idea or not, I have decided that most of the time I shouldn’t. Let me explain.
A few years ago I had a massive crush (still do) on Adam Carolla newsgirl Alison Rosen. She was relatively new to Twitter and I sent her a few tweets. The first two she didn’t respond to, but then the third one she did. It was a highlight of my online life. I figured we were tight and that this would blossom into a beautiful friendship. It didn’t. In a weird way I was really bummed out. I think I tweeted her a few more times and never heard back.
I’m sure it wasn’t personal. She has 58k Twitter followers. But I did take it personal. Yes, I’m nuts.
I’m coming up on 80k followers and there is one sad downside to having this number. Yes, it’s cool to get all sorts of great responses. As I mentioned earlier, I literally read them all (no foolin’), and more often than not, I laugh like a bastard.
But if I respond to one person somebody writes me a personal message (or in public) with “you never respond to my stuff!” Good point. That would piss me off, too. I’m sure I’ve lost a lot of followers over the years who have written me dozens of jokes and I never wrote back. I know I’ve upset people because they tell me and then I never hear from them again. They’re gone. Can’t blame ’em.
So, I don’t want some people to feel like I only reply to others but not them. The only fair thing I know how to do is to just not respond to anyone. I mean, once in awhile I do. But rarely.
The other piece is I don’t want to clog up my tweet stream with replies. You read my tweets because you dig my humor or whatever. You don’t want to read me saying, “Good one!” fifty times a day.
So, it’s an unfair and shitty policy. In order to protect my precious tweet stream and not to piss everyone off, I don’t respond. In doing so I piss people off who think I’m so high and mighty I don’t reply to their tweets. It sucks and I can own that. I’m sorry.
But here’s what I can and will do – respond to most (if not all) blog comments. Sometimes I fall behind (currently I’m a few hundred comments behind – ugh), but I’m grateful people read these posts, watch my videos, and listen to my podcasts. I owe it to let you know I appreciate your comments. Less than 1% of you comment, so at this point in the blog it’s something I can still do.
I look at Twitter as a never-ending commercial where I broadcast one-liner humor. Here is where I can engage and thank you in person. If you have great Twitter jokes, I hope you keep replying and sending them over. I love it so much. But it’s a selfish love.
Here I will reply to you. Maybe not the same day – but I will. I promise.
]]>Not that I’m so narcissistic to believe that you live, die, and breathe my words like oxygen. I hope you don’t. But if you do, you just may make it into the Paris will. Anyshit, I haven’t been updating the blog as much as usual. There’s a few reasons why…
First, I’ve been diligently working on the official ThoughtsFromParis mobile application. This means you no longer have to visit this site directly from your phone’s browser. I do have a really easy to read mobile site, but I wanted to create something a little more fun. Shortly Android and iPhone users will be able to download from their respective app stores.
I’d also like to formally announce that I’m removing all ads from the app and that it will be free. Initially I thought there would be banner ads to help recoup some of the costs associated with building and submitting the software. But then I realized we all hate apps with banner ads. So, I got rid of it.
The app is being built more as an exciting thank you for reading and supporting this blog. What started out as a little website has grown thanks to your readership. Much of my life has changed due to the engagement I receive from your comments. I’ve connected with thousands of people and developed (and continue to develop) strong friendships. I’m taking a risk that a mobile app will actually make getting to my posts easier (or at least add more options). I could be wrong. Either way, it’s a fun thing to build.
Second, I’ve been busy working on a partnership with a media company. While I don’t have all the details yet, there’s a very strong chance I’ll be making an exciting announcement within the next few weeks. I couldn’t be more flattered that this firm is interested in working with me, and I may be the first blogger they’re supporting. Of course, this could all go to pot, too. I hope not, but you never know with these things. Nothing will change content-wise. They want me to keep being me.
Now that I’ve spewed out my reasons for being absent, I would like to restore some additional balance to my life. Which means writing more.
The great Karen and I are working on oSex episode four. That should be fun and we’ve got all sorts of sicko and non-sicko questions to answer. I also set up a lot of great interviews for the Bloggers are Weird podcast and I appreciate you supporting both of these efforts.
While I haven’t been very active here, I continue to tweet and Facebook post quite a bit. Without tooting my own horn too much, I’m pretty damned good at it. If you’re not following me, I’d love it if you would consider. Selfishly, I dig when someone bests one of my jokes. I’m constantly amazed at your responses to my jokes and am secretly jealous when you come up with something better.
Oh, my app developer’s name is DongDong, which is nothing short of excellent.
Last (or is it “lastly”?), you may have noticed a little box at the top of this post (regular readers probably won’t see it) where I encourage you to subscribe to my posts via email. Once again, just another way to access my content.
Thanks again for the support and I’ll be back soon.
About three years ago I even gave up caffeine. While never a coffee or soda drinker (we grew up saying “soft drinks” because “soda” was too low-class), I got hooked on energy drinks. I was engaged at the time and my fiance thought it was cute that I had this one vice. Harmless, right?
Well, not really. Back then, I responded pretty hard to caffeine. It would get me high. Now, not as bad as a crank abuser shooting ice between their toes. I wouldn’t hear colors or watch the wall breathe but I did get a wicked endorphin rush.
I also turned into a bit of a jerk.
Caffeine had two additional side effects – it removed all empathy I had for human beings and decreased the tiny bit of patience I possessed. This is a deadly combination of jackass.
I would turn into a chatterbox and endlessly wax philosophic until my poor woman wanted to hang herself. She wasn’t as talkative and just wanted me to shut the fuck up. Since I had ginseng, B vitamins, and 1000mg of caffeine coursing through my pancreas, all I could do was express every thought as it arose. And it also gave me the false sense of brilliance. My girlfriend would grow tired of me and I would get furious that she didn’t want to stay up until midnight discussing whether we truly have free will about our feelings.
We would get into horrific fights and she’d blame it on the caffeine. She was right to do so.
So, I quit. I’ve lived off of Fresca and water for years now. No caffeine. Just me and sobriety. Peaceful.
Then, a few days back one of the Jewish fellows in the office brought in a two-liter of kosher Coke. It’s a different formula in that it contains real sugar as opposed to artificial sweeteners. In a moment of weakness I poured a cup. Ten minutes later the rush hit me. I was back, baby! Like a junkie I needed more.
I managed to hold off until this weekend and for fun decided to take a caffeine vacation. Whereas most people would take a break from caffeine I decided to hit it full throttle over the Easter break. Enjoy myself.
Something has changed in how it affects me, however. I don’t know if it’s the four years of therapy or if my body has changed or whether I’ve been healed by Shiva, but my body reacts totally differently to caffeine. Yes, I still get the endorphin rush and sense of well-being. But now, I can laser focus like you would not believe on work tasks. I had my most productive day this year today. I’m sort of a creative spaz – great at ideas, terrible at organization and details. Today I was all about prioritization. I managed to organize the next month of tasks and I only stopped to eat some ham and turkey. Gotta protein up, you know.
I did notice one downside – my creativity decreased to almost nil. Normally I come up with good jokes, tweets, and ribald boners throughout the day. Not today!
But, I wasn’t a jerk! Well, actually, this guy on the bus kept insisting that I was a celebrity and that he’d seen me on television. After a minute of not convincing him I just put my earbuds back in while he was in mid-sentence. Inside I was proud, however, to be mistaken for somebody famous. Ha.
Oh, and caffeine makes you pee a lot. Sort of forgot about that. Damn diuretic!
In fact, right now I’m stoned to the gills on energy drinks. I got a mighty buzz and the ability to see every pixel as I type. But no good jokes. It’s a creative killer.
Also, I’m afraid of getting addicted to this feeling. I don’t want to be a daily caffeine person. The withdrawals are brutal. Also, that means I will suck at work if Walgreens runs out of RockStar Zero Carb Blueberry Extra Intense Power Surge Nectar Explosion Juice.
So, my caffeine vacation will be coming to an end shortly. I need my creativity and I’ll just fight against my inability to concentrate. Or maybe I’ll have my doctor hook me up with some ADD meds. You get the same buzz, I hear. Then it’s not an addiction. It’s a prescription!
photo credit: International Man of Conundrums via photopin cc
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Well, yes, I guess I could have become excited because she’s not exactly unattractive. But that didn’t occur to me in the moment. I jumped up from my sofa and bolted directly into the guest bathroom. My master bath just has a boring walk in shower. It’s kind of fancy, but I needed to soak with a friend.
I’m talking about shared experience.
One of the hardest parts of being single is doing things by myself. I want somebody that watches the same shows that I do. Someone who laughs at the same jokes, and who thinks eating grocery store sushi on a Saturday morning is a fabulous idea.
I’ve heard that the purpose of a relationship is to amplify the human experience. This is done through intimate sharing. It doesn’t mean you both have to be into Norwegian death metal, although if you’ve found each other, good on you. I need someone in my life to pal around with – this is the most important part of a union for me.
I need someone that asks me what I’m writing about tonight. They don’t have to read each word, or any posts, but they have to get excited that I get excited. That’s the secret to a successful relationship. Get interested in the other person’s crap. Not literally.
But, to be fair, some couples seem to survive without much of this. I have a friend who watches college basketball nonstop while his wife trains for marathons. They share none of these activities together. It works for them. Me, I like having someone on the couch next to me while I crank out the Evil Dead trilogy. It’s simply more fun.
Of course time apart is critical. You can’t be up in each other’s jock nonstop. That shit gets old right quick.
As I’m growing older I realize that I want and need a willing partner. I want to learn what gets my woman off and then spend time participating in that with her. If she’s into crocheting, hook me up with some yarn. Wait, is crocheting the yarn thing? I ain’t looking it up.
In my life passion goes a long way. It’s the juice of life and what I live for. I have stopped dating a few women recently because I couldn’t find their passion.
Speaking of, can we all agree that passion fruit flavored anything is nasty? Just a small aside. But, seriously.
So, even though my friend was out of the tub almost the minute I got in, it meant a lot to me. Sure, it’s silly and goofy and childlike. And it certainly doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of our friendship. But the fact that we both spent a minute doing something together made this night more enjoyable for me. That’s a marker of a good friendship.
My last girlfriend recently called me the most selfish man she’d ever met. And maybe she has a point. I write a humor column all about the wonder that is I. That’s sort of selfish. But, she’s wrong mostly. I looked for her passion and tried to dig it out over a year. It was buried, or at least I couldn’t find it. I’m not putting her down – she’s a lovely woman. But I realize what I need now in a partner.
Thank you for reading and letting me indulge my passion. Now, go on and read one of my other posts where I tell a fantastic fart joke. I’m passionate about those, too.
