Jon

D-Bag

If you’re ever around me and I suddenly start to seem like much more of a douche bag than normal, but you can’t put your finger on exactly why, I’m nervous. My gestures give me away when I’m nervous or intimidated or lacking for the appropriate social response. And the reason you think I’m a…

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Stickhandling

I abstractly think those who are good at billiards are automatically the coolest cats in the room. There’s just something so unspeakably hip about being able to saunter up to a game and quietly run the table with surgical precision and unyielding focus while onlookers stare at you reverently and women fantasize about what it…

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Bleep

I am a wide-eyed enthusiast for censored profanity. The biggest reason, I suppose, for this enthusiasm is that I believe it achieves the opposite of its intended effect. Rather than obfuscating an unsavory word, a big ol’ bleep circles it, highlights it, and sends your brain scurrying back to the obscenity file to figure out…

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Muce

When I used to make fun of old people and the mere concept of drinking fiber, I did not realize I would be heckling myself at age 29. That’s when I started on The ‘Muce (or Metamucil, for those you not hip enough yet – and, ok, no, I’ve never actually referred to Metamucil as…

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Memory

I used to be staunchly anti-Facebook, and this philosophical stance was idiotic. It’s Sunday morning and I’m up to not much. Updating our monthly budget, catching up on a few blogs that are blocked at work and therefore unavailable for me to fuck off with while getting paid, and listening to iTunes. “I Try” by…

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Sriracha

“I can’t really handle spicy foods. I have a ‘supertaster,’” said the woman next to me at a business dinner as we perused a robustly awesome sushi menu. “Oh, you mean bitchmouth?” I helpfully corrected.

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Lechery

I find myself ogling men more than women as I get older. This is not a sexual thing, and I’m not dealing with any repressed homosexuality. I just find that as I advance in age, gawking at some 19 year old chick’s perfectly manicured backyard becomes less and less charming. I’ve adopted Seinfeld’s philosophy as…

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Access

I travel enough to get upgraded at shitty hotels. That’s almost poetic in its mundanity, is it not? Send me somewhere cool, I’m a peon just like everyone else. Yes, the rate is $289 a night, sir. But I’m a silver member! Doesn’t that mean anything? Yes, that you travel enough to be important in…

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Candor

“Here’s a hypothetical scenario: Would you rather give up cheese for the rest of your life – no cheese in any form ever – or oral sex, both giving and receiving?” asked our friend Amy recently over dinner. “Cheese,” Kristin and I both said in tandem with little thought and without even having to look…

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Sexless

In a former life, I used to rant and rave about how much I hated AskMen.com. I still hate it considering that site is nothing more than reductive, unnuanced claptrap written by a team of remarkably stupid and sexist chimpanzees. While researching a piece I was writing, I felt somewhat vindicated in my assumptions about…

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