I’m sorry your wife died…
I didn’t steal those artifacts…
Of course I packed your parachute…
Your mom is nice…
I’ve never seen those handguns before…
This pocket watch belongs to me…
Your painting is really good…
Honey, we’re just friends…
That was on fire when I got here...
I love you...
“My grandparents met on Tinder”: “I saw this on Buzzfeed. I still quote Borat a lot.”
Shirtless selfies: “I can crush a walnut with my butt cheeks but I’m still not clear on who Paul Ryan is.”
Fishing pictures: “My dad dragged me to Wisconsin for a ‘guy’s weekend’ and I had to miss Lollapalooza, but I made the best of it and murdered this fish.”
“I’m laid-back/easygoing”: “I have the personality of a packing peanut.”
Reviews (e.g. “The best guy I know!” -My Mom. “His breath always smells like chamomile and unicorns!” -New York Times): “The only original thought I ever had was for a sitcom called ‘Carol of the Balls.’ I was six Jack and Diets deep when I thought of it, so I don’t remember the premise. Except Carol’s a skank. And something about the Yankees. I was hungover until midnight the next day.”
Picture at Machu Picchu: “I, too, studied abroad in college.”
Middle finger picture: “I have a Limp Bizkit tattoo.”
Career listed as “Entrepreneur”: “I am unemployed but I’ve got a lot of big ideas. Like an app that tells you when there are dogs nearby. Or an ejector seat on a subway train for when a fight breaks out. Or dessert tacos with icing instead of cheese. Do you know anyone who’s hiring?”
“I love craft beer”: “I just learned about IPA’s. I wear unique pants.”
“I love whiskey/pizza/tacos”: “Get this! I also like having fun. And being happy. And not asphyxiating under a flaming mountain of moldy gym socks. It’s crazy, I know.”
2+ pictures in funny hats: “My exes would say I’m ‘a bit much.’”
“I’m very sarcastic”: “I’m the kind of person who rips into someone in front of a group and then says, ‘It was just a joke, dude. Don’t be so sensitive.’”
“No hookups”: “I copy-paste messages like ‘Hey beautiful! Why r u not my girlfriend?’ to every woman I match with. I am wearing a backwards hat in all of my pictures and my job title is listed as ‘Sales Dynamo.’”
Bald with a beard, no tattoos: “I do improv and own a lot of dope hats. I have a whimsical necktie for every occasion.”
Bald with a beard, tattoos: “I play bass.”
Sunglasses in every picture: “My eyes are two buttholes I must hide from the light of day lest the demons find me and return me to the fiery throes of the underworld whence I escaped so many centuries ago.”
“No drama”: “I get into a lot of Facebook fights with my elderly relatives.”
“Please respect yourself”: “I will try to dazzle the pants off of you with a dick pic, and when you decline, I will call you a nasty bitch hoe. Also, you’re fat and ugly. I only messaged you as a joke.”
“I’m spontaneous”: “One time a barista gave me the wrong scone and I ate it anyway.”
*Snaps fingers and a lackey appears*
Bring me the man responsible for this.
You call this coffee?! *spits*
Fly, my pretties!
Anybody else have somethin’ to say?
Heads will roll!
You’re on thin ice, pal.
Say it again. Say. It. Again.
Let that be a lesson to you.
You will not rest until you bring me his head on a platter.
Tell my husband I’m gonna be late.
We move at dawn.
You think it’s MY job to make sure you get to your son’s christening on time??
In due time, gents. In due time.
Of course! The cheese is in the closet!
I only had regular cheese so I shot holes in it!
Oooh, there’s a stink bomb?! Stinkyyyyy…
That’s a pretty umbrella.
I’m comin for that booty where you at
My heart is beating too fast, I’m going to have a heart attack
There you go! There's the lady that talks in my ear and tells me what to do!
DIVE!!! [Hums "Ride of the Valkyries"]
Did I make a horrible mistake, or am I a genius?
Do I really have to have this battle with these two fuckin assholes right now?
I have a horse I can ride? Isn't that just the neatest.
Come here you little fuckin chicken.
It's going to be barbarian or wizard, that's what it always is!
I enjoy crusaders!
He picks up gold for me? What a nice little guy!
Two guys [sings] "round the outside, round the outside, round the outside…"
I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that I have Windows updates to run. My computer is running like a b-hole.
Pretending to sleep at parties where no drinking was taking place because I thought this made me “cooler than the party”
Drinking a lot of orange juice (“Oh, what am I doing? Just listening to some music, drinking orange juice.” -Me, feeling fly, circa 2002)
Wearing candy necklaces until the color started to wear off on my skin
The band Mest
Sneaking up to people’s houses in the middle of the night (before curfew, of course) and sidewalk chalking up their driveways (That wild, unpredictable suburban life, you know?)
Pretending I had never heard of various pop artists
Pretending to be afraid of E.T.
Coughing when someone made eye contact with me because I thought that made me more mysterious (???)
The three foot marionette I insisted on bringing to parties (There was the occasional clumsy performance)
The cloak I wore for two weeks
The fact that I had never eaten Cookie Crisp
The mushroom cut I got in fourth grade that I so desperately wanted (My hair looks like a botched circumcision and I love it! Take that haters!)
My imagined alter-ego as a sexy, wisecracking, American exchange student in the Harry Potter universe who had alternate affairs with both of the Weasley twins
“Practicing” my softball pitching skills in front of people with no ball or mitt so as to display my immense talent
“Playing” the piano on the gym floor while waiting for warm-ups to begin (Note: I did not know how to play the piano)
Memorizing Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “El Dorado” and proudly forcing people to listen to me recite it
My Fine Arts degree
Author’s Note: Now, I am not exactly what one would call a “chill person.” Just last night, I was reading about pancreatic cancer and became convinced that this slight pain in my back meant that I had it (and not, of course, that I had been immobile for several hours googling things like “kesha best friends” and “whale sex” and my body had likely started to atrophy from inactivity) and I had to look up a diagram of the human body to determine where my pancreas actually was and the likelihood that it would revolt against me like The Order of the Phoenix and assassinate me for my tyrannical refusal to feed it anything but cheese and Mountain Dew. I also get stressed out by such terrifying monstrosities as voicemails, the cold, and my clock being wrong, so clearly I am a paragon of calm and comfort. I’m like wet socks personified.
So here are some things people other than just me tend to worry about:
When I sneeze with headphones in and can’t tell if someone said “Bless you” or not so I don’t know if I should say “Thank you” so I sneeze and then say “Thank you” to the world just in case as though thanking the universe for the privilege of sneezing…