What You Are Laughing At

Vegas Baby

So I didn't get the Vegas spot, but I was told that the judges "liked me a lot" and that I could have "done better." Doy, so could everyone except the person they picked. I heard that they picked a kid from Utah who makes faces.
1 - Would you pay to see that?
2 - I am happy to not be considered in the same breath as that type of comedy.


Because You Can't Have Sex ALL The Time

I ran into an old girlfriend recently, a woman who is probably as textbook attractive as possible. Auburn hair, bright blue eyes, tan, fit, perfect teeth/makeup/breath. She seems as if she craves only fruit and excretes biodegradable potpourri. Drives a Porsche, purchased with the money she made from investing in then selling Amazon stock before the crash. Lives in a posh condo near the Seattle waterfront. She's almost too gorgeous to look at.
And outside of her looks, there is not one interesting thing about her.

She had a truckload of nothing interesting to say, other than updating me on the goings-on of a couple mutual friends who she still hangs out with. Like I give a crap which stationery salesman is vying for a move to Medford, or how she and this guy and girl got SOOO drunk last weekend. Oh my Guinness, it was a record for useless information.

I only chatted with her for a moment, but it sparked me back to the conversations we had a long time ago when we first met. Sitting at a Happy Hour table with other good-looking friends (thanks to my humor I was included at this Last Supper of Blather) I looked around at these successful people and realized that, were it not for their looks, they would have jack shit to offer society. We'd all talk about work, slag on each other for the previous week's intimate co-minglings, see who is tapping which ass, and that was about it. For 3 empty hours.

One night I start talking with the ex, prior to our coupleage, and she asks me what I think of some dude who's been hanging in the group. I said that I subscribe to the "Saying nothing if nothing nice is to be said" school of chat. Then she asks "Why, did he say something to you?" Again, I told her that I didn't know the guy from Jeff Renner, so I really shouldn't say anything. I mentioned that he referred to every woman he used to date as "this one bitch," which seemed like something for shock value, showing me that he's got a front up. She says "No, I mean do you think he really drives a Honda?" I told her "No. I think he says that to appear humble so you'll f*ck him." Her reply? "Aaw, that's so sweet." Just be pretty, darling. Just be pretty.

I dated this woman for about 2 months a few years back. She was truly sweet-natured, but so incredibly insecure about her looks and her interpretations of my compliments that I felt like I was tripping over her Gucci emotional baggage. I had to call BS on it, because it wasn't anything I had packed for the trip. In a way, I was encouraging her to pick the bags up and figure out why they were so heavy, but her own past made her feel like she was in trouble, as if I was her father and the toys needed to come up off the Twister mat that her step-m0m and I and the Klobusnick's were gonna need later that night. I was looking for something more inside of her... pardon the pun... and I came up empty... to repeat myself...

Do looks matter when you're looking for a mate? Yeah, they do, and anybody who says they don't is a gorgeous liar. Everything fades. You can't look at anything, perfect or otherwise, for long without wondering what else there is to it. Looks matter. My looks matter to me, most of all, so I'm responsible for how I feel about me. But what matters more? That I left a good picture behind, or a thousand memorable quotes that make people laugh and learn and make out?

She was a gorgeous woman, and a hideous person. Too bad, too. Oh well, at least we did it.

You know who you are.
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My Non-Funny Blog.