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Archives: Sep 2007

Monopoly has wasted my whole goddamn weekend

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

Never mind World of Warcraft and Halo 3. If parents are going to complain about young people playing games 16 hours per day, they need to take a hard look at the games they grew up with. Do you know how fucking long it takes to play Monopoly? Most people can pay off a car loan in the time it takes to finish a game.

I started a game of Monopoly on Friday. It’s now Monday morning and the game hasn’t ended yet. It has consumed my entire weekend, made me exhausted at work today, and left me completely unable to concentrate on my job. It’s like heroin. “God this is horrible, but I can’t let that insufferable fuckface Steve win.”

If World of Warcraft were causing this, I could at least justify it by claiming video games are a trendy thing to do. But wasting an entire weekend playing a board game? What am I, Gerald Ford’s mother-in-law? Why don’t I just join a knitting group or become one of those people who attends city council meetings because they’re lonely. With the rate of dorkiness I’m achieving, I might as well give up sex and booze in favor of Jesus.

An open letter to High School Musical’s Vanessa Hudgens

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

Dear Vanessa Hudgens,

I recently saw a nude photograph of you on the internet. How about a date? I’m a 28-year-old diabetic who works as an office temp. I make $18,000 a year before taxes. I drive a Ford Escort. It has a sunroof!

I went on two dates this month, and had just enough money leftover to buy a t-shirt. I think that’s pretty good. I would have gladly used that t-shirt money to buy you a meal at Arby’s. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been to Arby’s, but it’s kinda expensive. It’s a pretty impressive offer.

But before you go crazy with desire at the thought of having me and a Beef n’ Cheddar in the same evening (Maybe at the same time? Totally hot!), there’s a few things you should know. First of all, I hate the movie “High School Musical”. I haven’t seen it, but I know I hate it. I hate the sequel too. In fact, I pretty much hate everything you’ve ever done in your entire life.

Woman, I did not screw up this date

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

I didn’t screw up this time. No, really! For once, I didn’t screw up at all. That’s rare for me. I screw up a lot. Sometimes I even screw up on purpose, just because I think it’ll be funny. But not this time. For the first time in my 28 years of existence, I was full of awesome.

It’s slightly disconcerting when you realize that a comment like “I didn’t fuck up this time!” could easily be an exciting statement for anything in your life: Work, relationships, bill payments, bar mitzvahs you’ve attended. However, this particular instance referred to dating. I know what you’re thinking. “Paul on a date? He’s far too socially awkward and curmudgeonly to attract normal women.”

You’re not wrong. The type of women I usually attract are either completely homicidal or are looking for a broken man to fix up to their liking. But once the homicidal ones realize I’m 28 years old, work as a temp, and only write for this newspaper, they decide it’s meaner to let me live. Once the fix-him-up girls realize my lifelong goal is to wear jeans and a t-shirt to my own wedding, they also give up.

Have fun in school, losers!

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

Get back to school, you filthy bastards! Leave our damned streets and file your unaborted selves back into your pens! We’ve got work to do in this city, and we can’t do it with thousands of you little accidents running willy nilly through town. Stay in your little prison for nine months, and we’ll fix all the things you broke during the summer.

Once you reach a proper age where you can drink a beer without leaving to pee every five minutes, you can join us out here in the real world. When you little boobs go to class, this city turns to gold. People on the street have conversations instead of blocking out the world with an iPod. Drivers pass elderly pedestrians without hanging their bare asses out the window and honking the horn. Drinkers hold gatherings that don’t end with someone barfing in the front yard.

Don’t get us wrong. We love you kids, but we need to get the hell away from you for a while. You’re annoying. Sticking you in these glorified daycare centers for nine months keeps us sane. Do you really expect us to spend more than three months a year with people who smoke menthol cigarettes? I mean Jesus.