Miss(ed) Manners

January 8, 2008

The Builders Gallery

Filed under: Candy,Silly — missedmanners @ 11:06 am

One of my biggest regrets from last year’s posting of the Battle of Helm’s Deep was that we didn’t have any pictures of us building the thing. This of course led to wild speculation that we’re all socially retarded mongoloids sporting coke bottle glasses and greasy hair. Nothing could be further from the truth, I wear contacts.

In any event, here are a couple pictures of the construction of this year’s project:



And now the key constructors:

Sunshine and Brendan, who thought they were coming up just to visit and hang out. I put them to work almost immediately.

Brian in the foreground, my big brother Jon in the back.

My little Brother,  Danny, doing his best Superbad impression.

My little sister, Katie and my Mom, Barb (Who didn’t help out that much, but she did let us destroy her dining room for a few days, so she’s getting full credit).

My other little sister, Lis.

and finally, of course…

Me, in all my nerdtastic glory.

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 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 5, 2007

The Perfect Match

Filed under: Silly — missedmanners @ 9:44 am

So over at Rhythmism.com we’d sparked up a discussion re: Online Dating and Match.com’s new tagline, “It’s okay to look.” In my mind this is sending all kinds of wrong messages, but whatever. In terms of the sanctity of American romantic relationships people are always looking to better deal their mate, it’s just the way this country works. I’ve never understood the idea, always trying to make the best situation out of generally shitty ones, but hey, some people were raised to want richer, better looking mates. I actually wear it as a badge of honor that three out of four of my major ex’s married their next boyfriend. That’s a 75% pre-penultimate-best-deal rating. I’ve been thinking of changing my last name to Q-School.

But I digress.

Eventually we got the idea to put together a profile from our conjoined wisdom, both male and female (but definitely mostly female), to make the perfect online dating profile. A very handsome gay friend of ours from San Francisco offered up his pictures for use.

Now, if you’ve ever made a Match.com profile you know that they take FOREVER. I mean there are like four billion questions. So answering by committee took us all day and we still weren’t done. It’s an ongoing project and once it’s complete I’ll be sure to keep you guys updated. We’re not sending anyone on any dates or anything, we just want to see the reaction to what we perceive to be the world’s greatest man.

I also just wanted to share that at some point late yesterday afternoon some of the women got tired of all the questions saying:

“He’s starting to sound annoying.”

“He’s the perfect man, he doesn’t need to answer all these questions.”

Typical. The perfect man doesn’t need to fill out all these questions because he’s perrrrrrrrfect.


PS: The man we’re making is turning out exactly like every one of the girls’ gay best friends. Who’da thunk that Will and Grace had more to it than neo-minstrel stereotypes?

PPS: On day two of Operation Perfect Match quite a few of the ladies have already lost interest in making Mr. Right. Hahaha.

February 7, 2007

True Tales of Lust #1

Filed under: Random,Sex,Silly — missedmanners @ 11:32 am

So often, especially from my friends, I hear how women are juuuuuust as horny as guys. I call absolute bullshit on this. Men are ruled by their penises, we lack the ability for rational thought when dealing with every day situations when vagina is thrown into the mix.

How best to illustrate this point? Why anecdotes of course. In this series I’ll be cataloging the most ridiculous forays into the world of booty seeking. If you’ve got one, feel free to email it to me, or leave it in the comments section. Did you hop a flight to a one night party on the other side of the country because some chick said she’d be “really happy to see you,” and you spent the night hanging with her and unknown to you at the time boyfriend? Have you semi-stalked a pretty stranger halfway across the city through seven bars in 90 degree weather only to realize that it was actually a Thai lady boy?

Leave your embarrassments here, no judgments.

Well that’s not true, there will be lots of judgments, and laughter.

Here’s my first one:

In High School I used to drive about forty minutes to school, every day. One such morning I was at a rest stop having a smoke and a cup of coffee when out on the road I saw a car I recognized go by. I thought that I remembered that this may or may not have been a good looking girl that I may or may not have known and she may or may not have given me what I perceived to be an interested smile some weeks ago.

Naturally I jumped into my car, sped after her at break neck speeds and got a ticket for 85 in a 55. My one and only speeding ticket. I never saw the car or the girl again.

The above is a true story and a perfect example of the kind of crippling effect the male libido has on the male himself. Please note that I was not even sure that it was a girl that I knew and even less sure if the girl even was interested in me.

February 1, 2007

Does Boston Need To Chill Out?

Filed under: Silly — missedmanners @ 5:28 pm

So I’m sure you and the rest of the world have heard about how some light installations for the Cartoon Network ‘show’s Aqua Teen Hunger Force made Boston go all weak in the knees for fear of a terror attack. Well over at Gothamist they just broke the news that it didn’t phase NYC in the least. (EDIT: Scratch that, apparently one street was closed down for almost an hour while the “devices” were removed)

See here.

I do a lot of business in Boston. I spend a few weeks there every year. Every time I go there I say the same thing: Boston is great if you want to see Middle Child Syndrome acted out on a city-wide scale.

Do you think that possibly, just maybe… and this is pure conjecture… that Boston may be a little jealous of all the attention that New York got after 2001? Let me be very clear, not jealous of the attacks themselves, but of the attention? It certainly begs the question, doesn’t it?

Let’s look at the facts:

New York has the Yankees, a historically great team, dubbed sports team of the 20th century.

Boston has the Red Sox, who are often as good if not better than the Yankees, yet simply do not receive commensurate attention.

New York is known as the “Big Apple,” “Gotham,” or “The Melting Pot.”

Boston is “Beantown.”

New York is the cultural capital of the Eastern U.S. commonly called the “Capital of the World.”

Boston has the Red Sox.

Now I’ve been to both places and I actually AM a middle child. So I am very qualified to comment on this subject. First off let me say that I am in no way saying one city is better than the other. Both are excellent depending on what you want out of a city. The dining, shopping and well, everything in Boston is par for the course or better.

HOWEVER, and that required all caps, Boston receives neither the notoriety nor the praise that New York does.

So the question is:

Do you think Boston is the Middle Child of American cities?

January 24, 2007

The CSI: Miami Drinking Game

Filed under: CSI,Drinking,Drinking Games,Silly — missedmanners @ 1:38 pm

Okay, so on Monday I mentioned my roommate’s and my abusive love for the show, CSI:Miami. The show is amazing. It takes every unbelievable, laughable aspect of the original CSI and puts it in a thong bikini. The show’s become so ridiculously predictable that we jokingly made up a drinking game based on the things you WILL see every episode.

The first of these refer to the main character, Lieutenant Horatio Caine, played by David Caruso.

Check him out:


This image is misleading because that motherfucker is always wearing sunglasses, because, in case you forgot, it’s fucking crazy bright in Miami. Here are some of the rules pertaining to him:

If at any time someone actually says David Caruso’s character’s full, ridiculous name (Horatio Caine): 1 Drink

David Caruso removes his sun glasses to emphasize a point: 1 Drink

NEW! David Caruso puts ON his sun glasses to emphasize a point: 1 Drink

The emphasized point is the lead in quote to the theme song: Drink half of your drink

Says another characters name as though it were a question (Alexx……?): 1 Drink

Caine utters some Confucian wisdom, for example, “Tomorrow is what you make of it,” or “Sometimes when you have everything it feels like nothing at all.”: 1 Drink… 5 if you don’t crack up laughing.

If Caine sticks up for an abused woman by physically threatening the man doing the beating thereby showing that violence is not the answer: 3 Drinks

Anytime Caine intentionally keeps his staff in the dark regarding key knowledge of a case to keep their objectivity intact: 1 Drink for every character fooled, 5 Drinks for every character that figures it out, 1 Whole Beer if it was something incredibly contrived like a Norwegian mouse hair or some bullshit like that.

You see a shot of Caine in his pimped out hummer: 1 Drink

You see a shot of Caine jumping out of his hummer, gun in hand: +3 Drinks

Now some minor characters:


Emily Procter a.k.a “Calleigh Duquesne”

Calleigh is a southern girl, and don’t you forget it. She’s also an incredibly gifted CSI, you can tell this because she’s wicked hot. Her rules:

Anytime Calleigh brutally overpowers a much larger man because she knows CSI Brand Jui Jitsu: 2 Drinks

If the beating was administered because the villain made light of the fact that Calleigh has a vagina: +1 Drink


Adam Rodridguez a.k.a “Eric Delko”

Eric is hot under the collar and came from a rough background, he may or may not like smoking the weed.

Anytime Eric gets hot under the collar: 1 Drink

Anytime you are reminded that Eric is from a rough background: 1 Drink

If he actually smokes weed: Sit back and watch CBS implode under the weight of a nation’s misplaced disdain.


Khandi Alexander a.k.a. “Dr. Alexx Woods”

Alexx is the resident mortician/autopsy lady. She’s got this whole queen of the dead type thing going on that routinely makes my naughty bits tingle. Her rules:

If she says the word(s):

“Mortis”: 1 Drink

“Rigor”: 1 Drink

“Time of Death”: 1 Drink

“Shoe leather”: 2 Drinks

“Door nail”: 3 Drinks

“Disco”: 4 Drinks

“David Caruso’s Film Career”: 8 Drinks, reenact the pussy eating scene from Jade with a throw pillow.

If at any time Dr. Alexx speaks to a corpse and expresses regret over his/her death showing that despite handling thousands of corpses daily, she is in no way jaded: 2 Drinks

Rules for Scenes Inside the CSI Mega Lab Complex

Most of the show takes place in here when H isn’t out tracking down bikini bandits or something. If you’ve ever been in a real forensics lab checking semen samples (like ya do), then you know that they’re actually fluorescent lit, horribly uncomfortable places. Not the CSI: Miami lab, hell no. Their headquarters was designed by robot versions of the guys from Queer Eye. Here’s a list of rules for their absolutely idiotic take on forensic research.

Any time you see a custom user interface for a computer program the techs are running: 1 Drink

Any time you see a futuristic font used in said interface: +1 Drink

If that user interface is projected gratuitously on a wall behind the characters: 2 Drinks

If a character uses a computer to magically enhance a blurry image far beyond what is possible: 4 Drinks

Example: cannot equal this: This

Computer generated zoom in to watch a wound unfold on a person in a manner that is in no way gross, nope, not at all: 1 Drink

Same computer generated zoom in done in slightly different manner to reflect new evidence in a way that’s not cliche, nope, not at all: +1 Drink

Black light used as background light, not for semen search: 2 Drinks

Semen search black light: 1 Drink (the point is to get drunk)

Different colored light used for some kind of alien semen search or something: 2 Drinks

Final Rule:

If the body count of the entire show ends up being 1 or less: Drink entire beer, change channel, you may have been watching the Golden Girls. Not your fault, it’s easy to mix up Caruso and Rue McClanahan.

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