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and here's something
weird: my place
in Humor 3-space

Friday, January 10, 2003
 
I'm a little shook up, because the restaurant last night had one of those "true reflection" mirrors in the bathroom. It's got several mirrors set at satanic angles inside, so instead of the face you normally see, it's the face everyone else sees. If you haven't seen this kind of mirror yet, good -- you may continue to live with your fantastically distorted self-image intact. But it's too late for me. My existential hymen has been violently shredded.
     The reason you hate pictures of yourself is that you don't recognize your face reversed; the angles are wrong, everything is bizarro. Also, you can see how fat your ass is. Right? Someone shows you a big group photo and you ONLY look at YOUR tiny head and big ass and say "ugh, what a terrible picture, please burn it right now because that's NOT what I look like," and your friend is like "what do you mean? You look GREAT in that picture" and you're like "shut up before I stab your tits off, because I look like a fucking Minotaur in that picture" and he's like "chill out, girlfriend (snap)." Well, this mirror image is a billion times worse because it moves, in a terrible, reptilian way. What I saw in the mirror was not me, but I am sure it is trying to kill me.
     Why didn't anyone tell me my face was so grotesquely deformed? One of my eyes seems to be falling off my face, and my chin is so off-kilter it looks like I got slapped with a shovel. I tried to make my "mirror face" (you know, that sexy face you make in the mirror when no one's around) and immediately vomited at the sight.
     As I staggered weeping from the restroom, I remembered something that made me feel a little better. When I ran into Cat in the subway last weekend and she drunkenly introduced me to this random 20-year-old chick from New Orleans, the chick turned around, took one look at me and said "He's cute," as if I weren't standing right there. Yowza! I told her she was cute too, which she was. It was a nice moment, and I can coast on that for a while. Ignore the true mirror. Ignore the true mirror. The true mirror is false. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. And wipe that puke off your pants, you narcissistic fucktard.

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MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS

Chan Marshall
Rotem of the IDF
Eleanor Friedberger
Amy Goodman
Bernardine Dohrn ('69)
Maya Rudolph
Joanna Newsom
Imogen Heap
Caroline Dhavernas

Shana Rae Ray

DISALLOWED FOREVER

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!"
-
"from whence"
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"...the exception that proves the rule"
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any use of the question "spit or swallow?"
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the phrase "drop trou"
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fake-o reviewer verbs:
"penned" for wrote
"helmed" for directed
"lensed" for whatever
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"expat"
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the euphemism
"passed away"
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pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!"
(see also: "grassy-ass!")



PET PEEVES

"confinscated"
-
trying children "as adults"
-
"drownded"
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misuse of reflexive pronouns, as when someone says "Please talk to Bob or myself." Come on people now. "Myself" is not just a fancy version of "me"! LEARN IT.
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tattoos in the Courier font
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any use of Comic Sans