Wednesday, February 15, 2006

It's Official: I Love Myself!

Last night, following dinner, I made it very clear: I am completely and totally in love with myself.

After work, I went to dinner, alone, to a fancy restaurant. Following the meal, I surprised myself with a gorgeous bejeweled ring. It was at this point that I expressed my deepest and most genuine expressions of affection. I left no room for doubt—it's love!

It hardly goes without saying that I loved myself well into the night.

Thursday, February 09, 2006


I don't mind doing favors for people. This automatically puts them in the position of owing me a favor, and trust me, I'm a big believer in payback.

Lately I've been been asked to do quite a lot of favors for people, and I find it hilarious that the word "wondering" is, without exception, one of the main ingredients of asking me do a favor.

"I was wondering if you could proofread my letter."

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me with this project."

"I was wondering if you might contribute to this charity."

Why can't they just say:

"Would you proofread this?"

"Can you help me?"

"Could you give me some money?"

Why can't the subject of the sentence be more about the favor itself, and less about the act of wondering? One of the main differences between the first clutch of sentences (the "wondering" ones) and my revisions is that the original ones avoid asking a question. Examine each of those opening salvos, and you'll notice that the speakers are merely making a statement—they're giving you some information about themselves, not actually asking you anything. It's really an act of cowardice. Grow some cajones. If you want something, don't sit there wondering. Just ask!


For some reason, I always hear the stupidest things on TV right before I go to work. This morning's atrocity was a commercial for "Dr. Dolittle," the musical starring Tommy Tune, which is apparently coming to L.A.'s Pantages Theater. The voice-over announcer instructed me to "get ready for family entertainment beyond your wildest imagination!"

Now, I think it's important for this TV announcer to understand that while my imagination may not be as versatile as, say, Stephen Hawking's, it's reasonably spiffy. I can imagine a kind of family entertainment that would, for example, encompass the euphoria of being on heroin and crack cocaine while having unprotected sex with Heather Locklear handcuffed to the bedposts after breast-enlargement surgery. I can imagine a kind of family entertainment that would be like taking a five-hour ride on a roller coaster that starts at the top of the Empire State Building in New York and ends in Atlantic City, with 5,001 upside-down loops along the way. Somehow, I don't think Tommy Tune singing, "If I Could Talk to the Animals" to a guy in a Pushmi-Pullyu costume is going to transcend my wildest imagination. It might—and I'm being very charitable here—might be beyond my imaginative capabilities at 5 o'clock on a Sunday morning after I've taken a sleeping pill and was just awakened by the sound of a ringing telephone. But probably not.