Miss(ed) Manners

May 10, 2007

Funny Little Analogies for My Hangover

Filed under: Funny,Stupid,Way Too Drunk,wtf? — missedmanners @ 11:39 am

I got black-out drunk last night at around 2am.

I didn’t get home till like, 4am. I’ve been trying to figure out what happened in those two hours, but I think at some point I shouted at deli guy way too loudly “WHERE ARE YOUR CONDOMS?”(I was alone). What the hell? Put a giant shame marker on that deli-door, I ain’t going in there again for at least a month.

Anyway, this is all the creativity I can muster up for one day, analogies and euphemisms for my hangover:

I’m as hungover as a Ron Jeremy’s career.

My hangover is more powerful than the power of Castle Greyskull and Smurf Village combined.

I feel like there are five midgets wrestling behind my eyeballs. (That one is courtesy of my friend Kristi)

My head feels like it is full of Scotch and anger.

My hangover went back in time, killed Charles Bronson and took over for him in the Death Strike movies, that’s how bad ass it is.

My hangover carries box cutters in its back pocket. It doesn’t even know what boxes are.

My hangover looks and feels like this:


That’s all I got today. Time to go sober up.

December 5, 2006

Personalized Greeting Update

Filed under: Friends,Funny,Life,Personal — missedmanners @ 3:40 pm

A resounding success!

I got out of the house on Friday night for a bit, it’d been a while since I’d been out partying so I went balls to the wall as it were with the boozin’ and hit up a few places. It’s long been my belief that your level of coolness is directly related to the amount of club/bar/lounge hand stamps you end the night with. Said level of coolness also depends upon placement of stamps on body, degradation of stamps due to full body booze baths and obscenity of stamps used.

I came away with only three stamps – all on my hand/wrist area – so I guess I’m kind of a lame fuck.

Anyway, the personal greetings have been going over VERY well. In just one night I managed to collect five or so. Here they are in  order of awesomeness, least awesome to very awesome.

1. My friend Brian and I are apparently too cool for greetings, so we’re just nodding our heads at each other. This one was good, because it’s easy to remember as Brian is a pompous asshole and so am I, so this whole being too cool to participate in an idea of my own creation thing works out perfectly.

2. My friend Big Dean insisted that we utilize the hand sign for the “Shocker” in a graphic display of hand coitus before smelling the fingers. If you knew Big Dean you’d understand why this is perfect.

3. The best one of the night comes from my boy, Justin. He suggested that we jump as high into the air as we can (we’re both incredibly out of shape white guys, so it’s about three inches) and connect our feet (mid-air) in an epic Karate kick maneuver and then land and scream at each other, focusing our chi. Justin’s well known for having the Yellow fever something fierce, so I wonder if this greeting makes him hot for my supple man-ass or not. Either way, best greeting so far.

December 1, 2006

Miss(ed) Manners: Meet and Greet

Filed under: Announcements,Funny,Humor,Life,Manners,Miss(ed) Manners,Ramblings,Random — missedmanners @ 1:21 pm

Goodness gracious folks, the holidays are upon us. Families are flying around the globe. Wayward sons are hitchhiking home. College co-eds are trying to figure out a way to explain their appearance on Girls Gone Wild. Cousins you didn’t even know you had are piling into their station wagon and coming to sleep on your couch.

Or maybe your going to your significant other’s family’s house. You’re looking to grab a hold of a holiday sweater and sit around and discuss Jesus with people you don’t know.

Either way it means you’re going to have to do a lot of greetings. I fucking hate greeting people. It’s one of the single most confusing social activities in the world today, barring baby showers, but that’s another story.

Do you go for the handshake? The handshake-hug? The hug alone? The cheek-kiss? The solitary hug? The handshake-hug-kiss? Who gets a kiss on the lips?

About two or three years back I ran into a client of ours after an event. I assumed she’d want to shake hands over a job well done, but she went in for the hug and kiss. I punched her right in the crotch with my extended hand. How is that a greeting? I think in some places it might be, but crotch-punching never really caught on in the States.

You know who needs to die? People who weren’t born in Europe but insist on doing the double cheek kiss. Die a painful death. I think people only do that so they can hear the homely, “Ooh okay!” that plops out of someone’s mouth like a gooey nugget of surprised manure when they realize they’re in the presence of someone so cosmopolitan that they deserve two kisses.

Air kissers also need a swift boot to the sternum. You do realize that an air kiss is like saying, “I’ll acknowledge your presence, but I’m not going to touch you because you have the scabies.”

Whatever happened to the awesome jive handshakes of the 70’s? There was a movie, Undercover Brother that had a lot to say about that. But I kind of glossed over it, which I think had a little to do with the point the movie was making.

The modern man to man handshake is no longer about greeting someone. It’s about acceptable amounts of pressure. You want to be firm, but not too firm. You want to make eye contact, but not for too long. You don’t want to go limp, or else you’re a nancy-boy. You don’t want to break someone’s hand or all of a sudden YOU’re the psycho. It’s ridiculous.

As it stands today, our options for greetings are varied, yes, but incredibly boring. What’s the point of even going through the motions of figuring out how to greet someone if you’re going to do the same thing to everyone else? How is that personal? How is that friendly?

All these reasons and more are why I’m initiating my new initiative for initiating social interactions, initialed: D.A.P.H.S. Or Dave’s Awesome Personalized Hand Shakes.

Over the next few months I will be making myself available to any friend, family member or acquaintance for a personalized greeting brainstorming session. During this time period you and I will sit down – or stand if we’re in a bar or a wading pool – and we’ll figure out a greeting that will replace our current melange of uncomfortable touching and lip pressing.

This greeting can be as simple or intricate as you wish. We can still make kiss kiss if that’s your thing. We can sign a portion of the alphabet to each other. We can have a minute long wrestling match while only saying the word, “HI!” really loudly at each other. Whatever we come up with will be how I will greet you for the rest of your miserable existence on this planet.

I’ve only just started but for a examples:

My older brother and I do the simple Roman style handshake. Because we both wish we were Romans, minus the rampant disease, death and slavery.

My little brother and I do a slightly more involved double hand slap and chest bump, which I fear is only making his chest more concave.

Several years ago, my friend Mike and I had an intricate series of hand gestures based around a hand sign for a vagina. It took about ten seconds to complete, roughly the average time of our separate sexual encounters.

The intricacy of said greeting is not important. If you want to stick with the tried and true cheek kiss, that’s fine. What’s important is putting the time in to make sure you’re really greeting someone. Sometimes using a stock kiss and go is more of a goodbye than a hello.

So if I see you out any time soon, pull me aside and let’s make a personalized greeting. I’ll be updating with the best greetings over the months to come.

November 9, 2006

Common NYC Misconception #2

Filed under: Criminal Behavior,Funny,Humor,Misconceptions,New York,Ramblings,Random — missedmanners @ 11:36 am

There are NO high speed car chases in New York City.

I love movies that take place in New York, especially crime dramas. There’s nothing like going to a movie, watching someone get brutally murdered in the street and then remarking out loud, “Hey! I had an espresso at that place, yeah the one right behind where his brains landed.”

It’s an all too common scene, a gang of bank robbers take out a large Manhattan bank. They pile into their car and go screeching off into the distance, police in hot pursuit. Machine guns blazing, they destroy half of the city until the hero eventually stops them, usually with a piercing stare of some sort.

Have any of these writers or directors ever DRIVEN in New York?

Have you?

New York City is in a near constant state of gridlock at all hours of the day and night.  An example: The other night I took a livery cab into the city from Brooklyn to attend a late night party. It was 1AM.  We sat on Bowery for about twenty minutes just trying to get to Houston Street. If we’d been running from the law, one of those silly little meter maid tricycle things could have caught us.

The biggest offender of this myth was the ill-conceived and even ill-er constructed move, Taxi, starring Jimmy Fallon (a comedian of highly suspect qualifications) and Queen Latifah (a maginificent pair of ginormo-titties). It’s a little known fact here in the states that this film – if you can call it that – was a remake of  a French movie by the same name.

The original French version was fucking awesome, it’s one of my favorite movies of all time, and that’s saying a lot coming from me as I am a very vocal opponent to most things French. Hey! I had a French roommate in college, I’m allowed to hate their entire culture.

Basically, in the American version, by the sheer power of her manufactured ethnic sass, Latifah charms the traffic away and makes most, if not all traffic lights completely disappear  and proceeds to make it from Midtown Manhattan to JFK in under twenty minutes – a feat which was proved to be impossible and completely against the rules of Newtonian physics in the early 70’s.

So, a warning to all you would be criminals and speed freaks: If you’re going to break the law and expect to get away with it, the cops will be the least of your problems. Tunnel and bridge traffic packs a bigger punch than any Police cruiser.

October 30, 2006

Wedding Zingers

Filed under: Dancing,Drunk,Friends,Funny,Humor,Life,Manners,Wedding — missedmanners @ 11:24 am

We’ve got this super-huge event coming up soon here at work, so I’ve been super-hugely busy. Sorry for not staying updated. After this weekend I should be free enough to begin really posting in Ernest Saves Christmas.

Anyway, so the lady and I went to this really beautiful wedding on Friday night. Two of my very dear friends were tying the knot and we were lucky enough to be invited. It’s always more fun when it’s not a family wedding, don’t you think? There are no great uncles to worry about getting too drunk, no disapproving cousins to validate your life choices to. Just a mass of friends and strangers wrangled into an open bar with door prizes.

As we were signing the guest book I noticed something. There are really only three or four stock phrases that everyone chooses from. Either something along the line of, “Dear So and So-ette, thank you for letting us share in this moment,” or “May your love continue to grow until the end of time,” or “May you treasure this day forever, blah blah blah.”

Where’s the originality, people?

I find it a little disconcerting, really. I mean here are two people whom you love dearly, they’re getting joined at the legality bone and all you can conjure up is something you read off the back of an appendix surgery-themed Hallmark card.

So with that sentiment in my heart I went to write something fantastic.

I of course drew a blank and ended up writing a mish-mash of the stock phrases in poor handwriting and what seemed to be pidgin English. Hey, screw you, Buddy, it’s a lot of pressure. I realize now that I’m 5,000,000 times more witty when on the other side of a keyboard (which is not saying much since I was in possession of zero wit at the time).

I’ve taken the liberty of creating a few non-traditional wedding guest book phrases that you can memorize for when the time comes. Please to enjoy.

“Thank you so much for inviting us to your Wiccan ceremony. The Goddess dance, while causing me to re-tear my ACL, was riveting both in body and spirit.”

“Here’s to at least several months of unmitigated happiness, ten years of pained silence, regret and painful loathing and then hopefully a revival of your marriage in your sunset years when you guys can throw a great renewal of vows ceremony and start the whole thing all over again. Maybe by then I’ll be able to buy Jim a cyber-stripper, Awesome!”

“Thank you for the drinks and loose women.”

“Thank you for the food and tight men.”

“May your love continue to grow, but not in a cancerous way, because cancer is bad.”

“Thank you for that reading from Corinthians II, it helped me truly understand the vows of marriage in a way I have not understood them since I was 12 and in Bible school.”

“Your fine selection of shrimps and appetizers are truly representative of the special bond of love you two hold. Except for the Capers, who’s idea was that?”

And of course, my personal favorite:

“Is this where I sign up for the silent Auction? $20 for the Mother of the Bride.”

October 25, 2006

Sounds of Dread #2

Filed under: Dread,Funny,Humor,Manners,Personal,Sounds — missedmanners @ 12:03 pm

This coming weekend I will celebrate the anniversary of my 4th year living in Brooklyn with my roommate, Spoony. Brooklyn’s changed a lot over the years. Most notably would be story of Williamsburg, the once immigrant haven turned local turned hipster trustafarian neighborhood. Where you once saw local butchers, tailors and other businesses you now see health food stores, “concept bars” and wholesale ironic tee-shirt markets.

Thankfully I don’t live in Williamsburg. Well, according to zoning regulations, my building is on the farthest outskirts of this conclave of the simply-trying-too-hard-to-be-different. Where I live is a little rough around the edges, to say the least. Spoons and I made the conscious decision to pay less, have more room and not give a shit that we’re not in a cool neighborhood. It’s paid us back in dividends of late night/early morning parties, bootleg everything, little noise constraints and quite literally a dance floor in the middle of our pad.

Unfortunately, most of our friends don’t share our disdain for the manufactured ambiance and perceived quality of life that these newly gentrified other regions of the city provide. Every time we have a party, planned or not, we have to go through the rigmarole of assuring people that it’s OK to park on our street. That yes, they can take the subway there. Yes, the J,M,Z line is an actual subway and it does run after dark. No, there are not roving gangs in burnt out school buses patrolling Bushwick looking for white women. Etc.

With everyone finally over their stigmas we have a good time, hang out and all is well.

Until today’s Sound of Dread is heard.

The Sound of Dread for October 25th, 2006 is:

The Loud Booming Noise That Probably Isn’t a Gun Shot, But You Definitely Thought It Was for At Least Five Seconds.

Every time I have people over a truck will unfailingly drive over a large metal grate, causing this booming sound. In all reality, it doesn’t actually sound like the thunderclap of a firearm discharging – but I can see on my friends’ faces that they think it was.

It may be slightly dreadful for them to think that there was a gunshot near by… but it’s actually kind of funny watching the pained look of fear turn into questioning and then eventual acceptance that it was just a truck and then finally into guilt at assuming it was a gunshot simply because I live in a poor neighborhood.

That’s priceless.

October 24, 2006


Filed under: Funny,Humor,Life,New York — missedmanners @ 11:08 am

Also, another thing:

My breakfast sandwich guy finally knows my order.

This is a huge thing for me.

We moved our office down here to the financial district some five months ago. I spent those months in anonymity, having to repeat my order every day to the same guy, “Bacon, Egg and Cheese on a toasted everything bagel, please.”

(As an aside, my friends and I decided that “everything bagel” is inaccurate. They should be called “manything bagels.”)

Finally, FINALLY, after all this time I go to tell him what I want, and he’s already got it going on the grill; my bagel already in the toaster. All I get is a head-nod. Like one of those head nods that says, “you have entered the inner circle of bagel patronship, how may I serve you otherwise, mi’lord?”

I LOL’ed.

Filed under: Funny,Humor,Office — missedmanners @ 10:55 am

I’m an idiot. I use that particular acronym far to often.

“How are you doing, lol.”

“Fine! lol.”

I don’t really laugh out loud at anything I see on-line. Usually I stare coldly at the monitor with a look of disdain and contempt for the fun and gaiety that’s happening on the other side. Here in my sterile office under my essence draining fluorescent lights there is very little to laugh out loud to.

Except for pictures of cats with captions!


I was lol-ing so hard to this last night that developed tinnitus, an inner ear infection and slight bladder incontinence.

This post has little to do with anything, other than me wanting to let you all know that I now pee a little whenever I see a funny cat.

October 20, 2006

Miss(ed) Manners: Urban License #2: LHTFWA

Filed under: Column,Funny,Humor,Life,Manners,Miss(ed) Manners,New York,Walking — missedmanners @ 1:48 pm

So here on WordPress there’s this great feature that allows you to see what search strings have drawn people to your site. Last week someone came around looking for, and I quote, “Skills that require licensing.” Good on you, Mr. Like-Minded Individual Sir. Besides jukebox operating there are many such skills that should mandate federal licensing. Which brings me to this week’s offering:

Miss(ed) Manners: Urban License #2: LHTFWA

That’s short for Learned How To Fucking Walk Already.

New York is literally FULL of sidewalks and guess what? People walk on them. For the most part, very poorly. Too slow, too fast, not straight enough, wrong side, stopping when you should be going, etc. These are the tell-tale signs of the retarded streetwalker.

If people were made to apply for streetwalking permits, this city would be a better place. In the license application below I’ll explain in further detail the very simple process (including a six week Walker’s Ed training program) one would have to go through in order to receive their LHTFWA certificate.

At this point you may be wondering aloud, “Dave, how do I know if I’m a problem streetwalker?”

There are a few signs. First, are you drooling? If yes, wipe your mouth and stand away from the glow box, Corky. Second, when you walk do you routinely hear the gruff, forced exhales of angry people as they try to shuffle around you and your club foot? No?

Most problem walkers fall into one of four categories.

1) The Wobble Walker or Shambling Mound
(If you got that joke meet me on top of a high building for a joint suicide on the grounds of hyper-nerdiness)

The Mound usually weighs in at somewhere between 290 and infinity pounds. Their amorphous globular shape seems to ripple in the wind as they take up the entire street ahead of you. The problem with Wobble Walkers isn’t that they’re fat, it’s that they move from side to side more than they progress further. The overweight are A-OK with me so long as they use that girth to get a little forward momentum going. Not Wobblers though, no they plod about shifting their weight from east to west. They move forward only on account of their legs – sensing an impending plummet to the ground – jutting out to stop the catastrophe like re-inflatable cellulite airbags.

2) The Stopper

Picture this: You’re headed home after a long day of work. Mr. Jenkins was all over you today, “Where’s that report, Collins?” “You need to stay on top of stuff, Collins!” You’re fed up and need your feelings of rage and homicide numbed by the soft blue glow of telemorphine ASAP. Your legs are working on their own, pretending the pavement is the doughy remains of Mr. Jenkins’ knee-strike battered face.

Then, the person right in front of you stops. Usually to either: Take out their cell phone, focus on an already in progress call, rummage through their bag looking for a metrocard or just to appreciate the magnificent beauty that is New York (or sneeze, whatever). 8 times out of 10 this will happen right at the top of a set of stairs. Will Mr. Jenkins’ get a murderous reprieve as you throw your rage against the back of this stuttering interloper?

The stopper is a danger not only to New York citizens but also to him/herself.

3) The Wrong Sider or Japanese Tourist

We get it, where you’re from people keep to the left. Not here. Here we keep to the right. Here we like our beer cold and our panties un-sniffed. This is the rule.

There’s a small subdivision of Wrong Siders who are equally as dangerous: the Clueless Scaffolding Spacehog. These are the people that walk down the middle of the narrow pathways created by work areas. These people too must be taught.

4) The Groupies

Not cool groupies like the ones that take off their shirts at the mere mention of Steely Dan. No, walking Groupies are the tourist twats that link arms and prance down crowded streets at 5:30pm laughing and giggling about what they just bought at Scoop. I don’t even recommend licensing these people. These people should be shot, their bodies stuffed with explosives and then lobbed via trebuchet into the plate glass windows of Scoop stores the city over.

The Licensing Process

Before ticketing for non LHTFWA street operation becomes common, you should look into coming down to the bureau and applying. For most people a simple practical exam will clear you for partial access to 90% of the city’s streets (Special tests will be created for Soho, Times Square and Narrow Subway Platforms).

Failing the test will require you to take the Walker’s Ed course which will focus on stride length, gait and steadiness. Other features include:

* Focus on: Walking and talking on a cell phone at the same time.
* Watching where the fuck you’re going, you asshole, you.
* Getting the hell out of the way when you feel like stopping.
* A four day seminar entitled, “Hey! The Streets Don’t Belong to You, Buddy!”
* With price of enrollment comes the free pamphlet: “Walk/Don’t Walk Signs: What They Really Mean”
* Mastery of the side-by-side/front-and-back conversational streetwalking dynamic formation.

If I were you, I’d get down to our offices now and sign up, the lines are sure to be really long, and you can bet getting there is going to be fucking hazardous.

October 19, 2006

New York’s Mostest Eligible Bachelors, #35

Filed under: Friends,Funny,Humor,Life,New York,Ramblings,Relationships,Sex — missedmanners @ 12:26 pm

The other night I was out to dinner with my girlfriend, a friend and his exceedingly pregnant wife. Somewhere between the mojitos, mussels and maybe-a-little-too-deep-for-dinner-conversation we came upon the topic of eligible bachelors.

Well the MOST eligible bachelors to be specific. As it turns out, my girlfriend happens to work at the same company as one of New York Magazine’s Most Eligible bachelors. We joked about it for a while and then started to realize the silliness in such a rating scheme.

The very fact that a guy is put on a “most eligible anything” list is going to guarantee his ineligibility. Think about it: all of a sudden you’re handed this great golden gift of poon PR and you’re expected to just settle down with the perfect woman, who of course scans the yearly listing looking for Mr. Right?

Bullshit. First of all any woman who hunts down a most eligible bachelor from a magazine article has got to have a few screws loose. Secondly, why would a guy give up that kind of exposure? You could make a killing in one night stands just by paying a homeless guy to walk around a bar letting slip that you’re on the MEB list and you’re ensured a night of carefree casual sex.

My biggest issue with those types of lists is the stratospheric tax bracket they represent. Apparently money is a key ingredient to either “most” or “eligible,” because I know a lot of broke “bachelors.” It’s ridiculous! Why is it that only  white collar corporate drones, part-of-the-problem lawyers or corrupt government aides gets all the society props? Do these guys really exhibit any of the qualities that real women look for in long term relationships? Maybe if you’re looking for a house in the Hampton’s and a crippling cocaine habit.

So we decided to come up with our very own list. A list of real men, real single men that have what real women want. Sure they may not work in the most glamorous fields, but they’d be good for you and your potential children.

Now, without further ado I bring you, Miss(ed) Manners’ New York’s Mostest Eligible Bachelors.

Bachelor #35: Steven Lipinksi

This West Bronx native comes from a three generation tradition of working in the municipal sanitation field. He most recently was awarded a citation for promptness and route hygiene. Steven’s ideal woman is the type that has a lot to say, whether it be about your current events or your mother. A sometimes sports fan, Steven much prefers gymnastics and ice dancing and actually suffers from a rare allergy to the plastic used in remote controls. His idea of a perfect outing is hanging out with your friends, validating your choices in life and drinking just enough to be interesting but not embarrassing.

Bachelor Fun Fact: Steven has accumulated almost 400,000 miles on his credit card from flower purchases alone.

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