Miss(ed) Manners

April 30, 2007


Filed under: Random — missedmanners @ 9:49 am

WordPress just informed us that there’s this great little tool for looking at random posts in your blog. I made a little link thingy off to the right for just this purpose. I’m making a whole post about it because, well, I’ve been writing Miss(ed) Manners as a blog-type column for about three years. I’d only made the transition to a real blog-bloggy-McBloggerstein last August on the advice and urging of my friendly neighborhood ex-girlfriend. That means there’s like seventy posts that almost no one besides the jaded New York clubber mafia have seen.

There are some real choice bits of wisdom in there, drunk movie reviews, bad ideas, gripes, bitches (both female and auditory) and even some stuff that might make you laugh.

So click away my not-so-feathered friends.

PS: Keep sending in those Ask Dave submissions! I’ll be answering them shortly!


April 27, 2007

Ooof Friday

Filed under: Hotness,Silly,Subway — missedmanners @ 1:15 pm


I’ve got the kind of hangover that makes you religious.

For some reason someone wanted me to DJ at a party again last night. Why people keep asking me to do this is beyond me, but hey, I’m never one to deny anyone their weekly dose of Dave. Played some real classics, among them:

Pat Benetar, “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”

Billy Ocean, “Get Out of My Dreams and Into My Car”

Stacy Q, “Two of Hearts”

Gloria Estefan, “1, 2, 3”

Hehehe, it all went over very well. I of course didn’t mix a single thing, was just pressing play repeatedly as per usual. The whole affair has left me with a certain sense of invincibility that only the high of having panties thrown at you can.

Anyway, I also wanted to relate a great story that happened to me yesterday.

As I was on the way to meet up with some friends for a few drinks before heading out, I found myself on the R train, going from Rector Street to Canal. The car that pulled up in front of me was fairly empty and I grabbed a seat and took a quick look around.

As any man can tell you, the first thing you do upon getting into a subway car is you instantly find the most attractive woman present. This isn’t done for any sort of leering purpose, in general, it’s really more an instinct than anything else. Most times your mental catalog is quick in its referencing. A spunky looking hipster who’s showing just enough hip bone to tickle your penis’s fancy is the obvious choice over a beleaguered ancient Chinese lady carrying eight bags of odd smelling groceries. The “Subway” effect can also backfire. Say, for example, that it’s 4am and it’s either that old lady or a crazy crackhead broad with one shoe… your mind will inevitably fill with the worst kind of images.

I’m going to get into this in a little more detail at a later date. For now, if you’re a woman, just be happy that you can force the issue of sex to the sidelines of your head for at least a few minutes. If you’re a man, then you know how annoying then you know what I’m talking about.

Back to the subway car. I take my look around and notice that there are only two women on the car… and they’re both reaaallly hot. Then I look around some more, there were about five guys and they were all pretty damn attractive. Everyone on the car was really good looking.

This never, EVER happens. If you live in New York or have ever rode on the subway, you will undoubtedly agree with me. There is always at least one hideously ugly motherfucker just chilling out in a corner. People talk a lot about the great melting pot that is New York, but they never mention that it’s also a stew of aesthetic variety. Sure we’ve got models, square jawed power brokers and celebrities… but we’ve also got pasty faced, mouth breathing, waddling tubs of lard like the rest of the country. We’ve actually got more of them here per square foot than anywhere else in the country. They’re everywhere.

I was in complete awe of the untarnished physical beauty around me. I don’t think anyone else noticed, and we rode on into the night in silence. As we pulled in to the City Hall stop, I just assumed that someone would get on and completely ruin my little zen garden of hotness. But nay! The only person to get on our car was this gigantic studly black dude in a suit.

I looked around some more and noticed that not only was everyone gorgeous, but we were also a multi-culti environment. There were like three white guys, one Asian guy, one of the girls was Latina, the other was a blonde, and now our hirstute African American friend.

I was in a living Benetton advert.

I will cherish that moment as the best cast of random subway characters of all time. Much love.

April 25, 2007

Get a Grip

Filed under: Humor — missedmanners @ 10:44 am

Argh, this drives me nuts.

Last night was watching the X-Files movie again, happened to catch it on HBO. This past weekend I’d caught 300 with a friend and well, I found an odd parallel between the two movies. No it wasn’t a line drawn between the monumental amount of sexual tension between Mulder and Scully and Leonidas and Xerxes (though it was considerable on both accounts).

No, it was actually that both movies have a scene where the main character is climbing to get somewhere and their footing inevitably falters. Either a wingtip or sandal holds the character’s entire weight on a stone, or snow or creaky metal ladder rung, it gives way and they slip precariously downwards only to cling onto a finger-hold.  Looking downward as debris falls hundreds of feet below the hero struggles against the rising crescendo of strings and drums and pulls himself upwards.

Argh, this drives me CRAZY. It happens in almost every single movie. Besides Morgan Freeman playing the archetypal “Mystical Negro” character this is the most overused movie cliche known to man. If there’s something to climb, it’s going to be climbed, only not very well. At this point whenever I see a scene with a character climbing I’m less worried about the character’s safety and more worried about the impending insult to my intelligence.

This is fucking idiotic. Anyone who’s ever climbed anything knows that the first thing you do is check your footing before moving upwards. Never rely on your hands to hold you up, that’s dangerous. Secure your footing first, at all times, Sheesh.

I know I know, maybe there isn’t any time to check your footing when you’re being chased by an alien or Persian or a Persian alien, but come ON Hollywood.

April 24, 2007

Quick Thought

Filed under: Humor — missedmanners @ 8:03 pm

Don’t trust guys who drive yellow cars. I’m pretty sure they only get them so they can be confused with cabs and try to pick up any one of the multitude of drunk college girls that wander the streets of New York.

Or at least that’s the thought that ran through my head right after I very soberly tried to hail a guy in a bird yellow sports car just an hour ago.

April 23, 2007

Scaffolding to Nowhere

Filed under: Humor,Life,Silly — missedmanners @ 9:33 am


This scaffolding is a full six feet away from the side of the building.

What the fuck is it for?

Possible uses:

1) Private walkway for the super rich.

2) Ore cart track to the mines below the Kali cult’s corporate offices.

3)  Part of a city measure to help reduce the massive size of many financial district streets. Being able to fit 75% of a car is causing too much pollution and gridlock.

Seriously though, it’s been like this for a week.

April 19, 2007

Lost, in Time.

Filed under: Humor,Silly,Television — missedmanners @ 5:09 pm


I’ve got a few predictions about Lost.

When the series finally ends in about three or four years time, there will still be hundreds of unanswered questions. If you think about it, there’s no way that a show whose creator has publicly admitted that they’ve only got a few seasons left can tie up every single loose end, red herring, obvious nod to mythology and erroneous flashback in such a short time. Especially considering that now with all that fucking ad time they’re selling, each episode is on average fifteen minutes and twenty seconds long.

Inevitably what will happen is that when the show ends there will be more questions than answers. What the hell does Jack’s tattoo of power really mean? Where did Claire’s bangs come from? Will Charlie ever release a multi-Grammy winning album entitled, “Songs I Wrote When Scared Shitless of Some People Who I Can’t Really Explain Why They Were on the Same Island As Us, Though They Might Have Been With This Dharma Thing, But Maybe Not. There Was Also a One Eyed Russian, Which is Also An Obscure Sexual Position, By The Way.”

The best thing about this is that up until the last episode everyone will still be waiting for that payoff, that big supercondensed bout of fifteen minutes where somehow across the sky on that magical island a teleprompter will flash glowing blue letters of truth, answering every single fucking question you ever had. Then, when that doesn’t happen, the screen goes black and the word, “FOUND” unblurs (pure conjecture on my part) and the show ends… all hell is going to break loose.

I believe that this systematic denial of information is part of a vast conspiracy spear headed by the shadowy menace, J.J. Abrams, creator of the show and 48th Degree Freemason (Screenwriters Rite). When the show ends, initially there will be a little backlash that will spill into the online world at a heated pitch. Bloggers will be at their busiest since the tragic death of the story about the tragic death of Anna Nicole Smith. Online forums will bulge, people will sign up. Everyone will get into the ring to voice their opinion about what really happened on that island.

Over time, the people will be split into two groups. In one, those who think that the show was better for having left so much unsaid, comparing the wonderment the series has created to the mysteries of the enigmatic smile of the Mona Lisa, or the reason why Mork and Mindy was considered funny. In the other, the viciously disenfranchised, the angry mob who wants to tear down the walls of the writers’ and producers’ homes and cut out their brains to see the answers they were denied.

At first, this will just present itself in the usual manner of supernerd online fan cults. Each side will take time out of their busy day at the IT desk to write their own incredibly horrendous fanfic. They’ll argue unendingly in chat rooms, in blog comment threads and even on television.

Eventually, people will decide whether or not to date someone based on their view of the Lost issue. T-shirts will be made, worn and banned at shopping malls. Some restaurants will forbid the open discussion of the heated topic. Amtrak will provide a Lost argument car and make all the rest quiet cars.

As the years roll on and the stars of the series make their inevitable way into the dank, flop sweat scented convention circuit, the differing camps will begin hosting their own, separate gatherings. At “LostCon VI: A Gathering for those Okay with Being Mystified” in sunny Burbank, California, a group of Answer Seekers(A.S.) will attack, letting out all the air of the tires of those present. In retaliation, the Legion of the Content(LoC) will release black smoke bombs into an A.S. gathering along with fliers that say, “This looks like that smoke monster from the island, doesn’t it? Who cares what it really was? We certainly don’t.”

The years that will follow will be tense, as each group rallies surviving cast members to make public service announcements to their cause. Small outbreaks of Lostgang related violence will crop up around the globe. Tragically, in the summer of 2015, Terry O’Quinn, the actor who plays John Locke, will be caught in the middle of a riot on the steps of the Birmingham City Government offices and will suffer a grievous injury, paralyzing him from the waist down in what will be called the greatest ironic injury the world has ever seen.

During the following year, peace efforts will be made but will ultimately fall through. LoC officials will send a limited edition fifth release of the series to A.S. offices on Tealray disc along with a plaque asking for peace. Unfortunately, this olive branch will be sent back along with the nose and tongue of the FEDEXKINKOSUPSSTARBUCKS delivery man who’d dropped it off.

The dark times that follow will finally be lifted when the next generation of children rebel against their parents’ dogmatic ways, as such children are wont to do throughout history. A period of reconciliation and peace will dawn upon the land. Though not all is sunshine and happiness. A Lost reunion episode will close down for unknown reasons in 2035, though many suspect that nanoweapons controlled by LoC operatives liquefied all holorecording equipment and even critically infected Matthew Fox’s neurcannular Cybernet implant.

As the age of space dawns and the warring clans are given room to expand, an uneasy truce will blossom. Sequestered to separate megalithic space stations scattered across the solar system, the two powers will let peace, and even better, silence, reign for over two hundred years.

Until the date, April 8th, 2342 at 3:16pm. This date and time, now considered holy by both groups, was long preached as the day of the reckoning. The High Order of the Answer Seekers hold that it is the day when the long awaited blue glowing letters of answer will adorn the sky over the island where the original series was ordained by God.

The Legion of the Holy Content will of course view this as blasphemy and will position their fleet in the way of the High Order Star Destroyers in a tightly wound blockade encircling the hollowed out husk that remains of Terra.

The ensuing battle will rage across the solar system. Millions will die as the H.O.S.S. Hugo will plummet into the nexus hub of the Jin 8 space station causing complete environ failure and loss of atmosphere. However those casualties will be the lucky ones. Surely the others will beg for death by decompression.

As the Holy Content forces will suffer tragic losses, they will be able to stop the Seekers from reaching the island to see the answers. Whether they were even there will be undebatable, as scientist Ben Linus Grier IV will enact the Legion final solution in anger and sadness, preferring to end all existence instead of living one more day without knowing the truth.

A secret weapon developed under the surveillance-proof clouds of Jupiter’s red spot, the final solution will be a High Yield Photon Bomb of such strength that it’s detonation will send a shockwave across the galaxy. It will rupture hulls and destabilize planetary axes for hundreds of light years. Those that do survive will be set adrift without power or limited life support, castaways, fighting the urge against cannibalism as long as they can.

The age of man will come to a bitter and cold end.

People are way too into this show.

April 18, 2007

Oooh! Got it.

Filed under: Humor — missedmanners @ 4:05 pm

Finally! My favoritest egg ever.


And a very weird one where the colors got all screwed up:


And finally, the Easter tree in all its very breakable glory:



I Be Back from Boston Back Bay

Filed under: Life — missedmanners @ 11:16 am

I still don’t have a goddamned picture of that egg.

Annnnnnnnnyway, I’m back from what was by all accounts a stellar week of business of all sorts. Everything ran well and was executed perfectly. Hopefully our customers feel the same way. Got to see some old friends and (and a few new ones, heh) and reconnect over a silly amount of booze.

On the lunar new year a while back I proclaimed that this year would be henceforth known as the “Year of the Dave,” a statement full of hubris. I love hubris just a little more than the writers of all those Greek tragedies and slightly more than Oedipus. I’m really fond of saying things like, “I’ll never be in a car accident that’s my fault” (true). I’ve found that just the stating of such ridiculous claims can really help bring them about. Even better is that if for some obvious reason they don’t come about you can blame the failure on some cosmic excuse like having “jinxed” it or having angered an ancient Mayan God when I built that strip mall in Guatemala in the late 80’s.

With the statement made I’ve been seizing all kinds of positive signs as mental reenforcement. That egg from two weeks ago, the smooth running of our events, how fantastic my hair has been looking, etc. Just the other night I got another one. For some inexplicable reason our event designer hired a Tarot card reader. Right before I was going to head home, I stumbled in her direction and sat down for a reading.

Apparently I’m going to be ruling either a small country or my domain by the end of the year, so says the last card, “The Emperor.” That’s fucking sweet. Though there was a death card in the middle there, which I was a little worried about, but she assured me I was definitely safe. Everyone else though, watch out.

So did I miss anything? And who wants in on my cabinet?

April 9, 2007

Eggstravaganza, Part 2 and Adieu

Filed under: Announcements,Easter,Eggs,Life — missedmanners @ 2:39 pm

Just got back from a most excellent weekend up at the parents’ homestead upstate for Easter. We ate, we drank, we were merry in equal parts. More importantly, we made EGGS!

I went up with a group of 7 other friends. Two of the girls, whose occupations are Graphic Designer and Architect, unsurprisingly got as insanely obsessed with the hours long ritual as I do. I don’t have pictures yet, but the end results were fantastic.

There’s a lot to be said about the lessons you can take from such a painstaking labor process:

  • You’ve got to think backwards. Everything you cover in wax when the egg is white will remain white. The normal method for drawing and painting usually involves outlining something in black and then filling in the color. Pysanky is the exact opposite. Some people have a really hard time figuring this out. To me it’s a metaphor for being able to think, and pardon the term, outside of the box. If you can take the normal mental pathway of thinking and turn it exactly upside-down, then in my mind, you’re more equipped for life, more able to see things from other people’s perspective. I think a lot of people could benefit from this ability.
  • Each step of the progression is incredibly in its finality. You dye an egg blue and there’s no real changing that. Every action you took prior to that is locked in, under wax. There are ways to cheat this, using vinegar or bleach, but the end result is never as pretty. You’ve got to think ahead or, if you decide to be spontaneous, embrace the actions that got you to where you are.
  • You’re working on an eggshell, fer chrissakes. A literal representation of thousands of euphemisms for fragility. All you’ve got is kid gloves and you’d better be using them. I’ve broken eggs through carelessness and have actually cried because of losing the product of six or seven hours of the most concentrated concentration I could muster.

This has been a yearly event for myself for over ten years.  It’s such an ingrained part of my internal yearly calendar that it’s always in the back of my mind the other 360 some-odd days I’m not decorating eggs.  The last egg of each yearly session will subtly, but noticeably effect both my mood and outlook for the coming year.

For example, last year I had an extremely poor showing. The colors didn’t work how I wanted, the eggs were sloppy and poorly planned out. I had one positive egg and then tried to make something spectacular and failed, miserably. It was on my mind all year, a very slight pessimistic outlook. The person I’m most influenced by, unsurprisingly, is myself. So when I get it into my head that something is wrong, or just “off,” I’ll make it a truth in my head.

Not this year, though. I think I produced the most technically correct and aesthetically pleasing piece of work I’ve ever done. I’ll try and get a picture up as soon as possible. That piece, being the last thing I did for this year, 2007, means that I’m going to not only have a good year overall, but I’m going to know that I’m having it.  So yes, hope springs and all that.

Anyway, on to the Adieu part of the post:

I’m leaving tomorrow for a week of bidness in Boston. Sort of the Finals week of my professional life, which is almost immediately followed by a long spring break. I’ll try to get in to post as often as possible, what with my observations of that city being very numerous and hopefully humorous.

So until then, peace in the northeast all.

April 6, 2007

Happy Easter!

Filed under: Humor — missedmanners @ 3:05 pm


Easter is definitely one of my favorite holidays. Right behind Steak and a Blowjob day.

I’m about to head upstate to the parent’s place with some friends for some more egg making, heavy drinking, bonfire making, feast preparing, ham and lamb cooking and eventually egg hunting. I’ll be sure to take some pictures.

Enjoy this Festival of Ishtar and fertility! (We’re reallllllllly old school)

Next Page »

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.