Skewed News – Tuesday August 18

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Dear Poor Lucky Me,
I’m starting to think that the news sucks.  I mean, it seems like everyone has an agenda and no news source is very reliable. 

 

Do you agree?  Where do you go for your news?

 

With Affection,

Uninformed

 


Dear Uninformed,

 

I actually get this question a lot.  Depending on my mood, I have told people to check out NPR or MSNBC or some other liberal-leaning news source.  However, I have recently seen the show Judge Hatchet and I’ve decided that everything you need to know about the world is happening in her courtroom. 

 

It’s amazing to think about what I’ve missed by not watching this show.  Judge Hatchett can tell if you’re lying, if you’re a baby’s daddy, if you did or did not sign a promissory not to repay the loan your neighbor gave you to pay your bills when your welfare ran out but your crack habit stayed strong, and so much more.

 

Judge Hatchett has an agenda: she doesn’t want you monkeying around in her courtroom.  She also very reliable: if you question the paternity of your child, she’ll get you the DNA test to prove your girlfriend was running around while you were in jail.

 

I don’t want to portray the Judge like she’s Jerry Springer.  She’s very sophisticated in many ways.  People aren’t allowed to fight or scratch at each others eyes.  Even cross court arguing is frowned upon.  The most she’ll permit is an “I told you” which is what every single person says when she gives a ruling.

 

Judge Hachett is so awesome I feel confident advising you to just turn to her for your news and entertainment.  You won’t be sorry.  I mean really, how much do you need to know about the health care system or the stupid economy?  Nothing, that’s how much.

 

Sincerely,

Poor Lucky Me

An Open Letter to John Malkovich – Monday August 17

malkovich
Dear Mr. Malkovich,

 

I’m sure you remember me- I waited on you at an Italian restaurant in Chicago five years ago.  You ordered steamed spinach and a portabello mushroom, then make fun of yourself for getting such a “Hollywood” meal.  I laughed very very hard to indicate that I thought you were awesome.  You left me a 100% tip.  Especially compared to the other celebrity I waited on, Tootie from Facts of Life, you were so cool I almost exploded.  (Tootie got her dinner comped and left me no tip.)

 

So last night I watched “Burn After Reading” because you are in it.  I was reluctant because the movie didn’t get great reviews, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.  I felt like if you read the script and liked it enough to engage, it had to be great.  And if it wasn’t great, it was only because something got mucked up in editing or the studio put it through testing or something.

 

Well I have to be honest, I was so mesmerized by your performance, I don’t even know what happened in the rest of the movie.  I would stare at your during your scenes, and yell “He’s so incredible” then when you weren’t on camera I’d think about how funny you were, or what a great actor you are.  I’d wonder what you do for fun, and if you’d ever want to get together and talk about our favorite books.  I kept grabbing my roommate by the shoulders and screaming “Isn’t he just THE BEST”.  My roommate stopped trying to push me away after about an hour.

 

I guess I’d better get going now.  I just wanted to tell you that I think you are so cool, so funny, so talented, and welcomed to have a sleepover at my house anytime.  It can be platonic or whatever. I’ll keep clean P.J.’s in the drawer just for you.

 

Sincerely,

Poor Lucky Me.

Fighting For Focus – Friday August 14

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Dear Poor Lucky Me,

 

Shouldn’t there be a law that you can push people out of the way if they’re walking and texting at the same time?  Also: shouldn’t you be able to deliberately crash your car into people who are texting while driving?

 

This seems very obvious to me, and yet I’m being charged with assault!

 

Please advise,
Rage Solution

 


Dear Rage Solution,

 

On one hand, it’s great to live in society that boasts a relatively functional justice system and police force. On the other hand, I often get nostalgic for wild-west-style vigilante justice.

 

If the NRA is going to have such an annoyingly big presence in American politics, we should at least be allowed to wave guns at people who can’t adhere to basic societal niceties. Like looking at the road while they’re driving. I’m not going to SHOOT anyone. Probably. I mean I’m not going to shoot anyone very hard. Maybe I could just hit people over the head with the butt of my gun. Is that also illegal?

 

iPhones and Blackberries are great.  They’ve made it easier to wait in long lines, easier to find a normal-ish restaurant off the highway on a driving trip, and allow people to play Scrabble while on the toilet.  But smart phones are also shrinking our attention spans.  For instance: I’m already bored with this topic.  Sorry, it’s not my fault, it’s Apple’s.

 

Sincerely,

Poor Lucky Me

Wary of Warnings – Thursday August 13

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Dear Poor Lucky Me,

 

I’m new at my job, and so far I’m really enjoying it. I’ve made friends with another girl on my team and it’s made staying late to finish projects not only bearable, but really fun. I’ve only known her for a few months but she seems normal and we get along great.

 

The problem is there’s this guy on our team who takes every opportunity to tell me that she’s “crazy” and a “backstabber”. When I press for details he rolls his eyes and says that he’ll just let me find out for myself.

 

What the hell is up with this guy?

 

Should I say something to my friend, or assume that he is A. an asshole B. a spurned suitor or C. knows her better than I do.

 

Signed,
Confused in Colorado

 

Dear Confused,

 

You are right to be suspicious of this guy’s motives.

 

Anyone who tries to undermine other people at work is a scumbag, even if what they’re saying is based in some truth. For instance; there was a woman at my office who was always making snide remarks behind my back like: “people who sleep in their cars at lunchtime either have narcolepsy or a drug problem” and “I don’t think the “f” word is the always the best noun, adjective, or verb when writing client emails” or “staring at the ceiling and drooling during company wide meetings is bad for moral”.

 

In many ways she was right but in other ways she should have either gone to HR or shut the hell up. My shoddy work wasn’t affecting her projects, I got paid considerably less than her, and everyone thought she sucked and likes me. I had the last laugh though, because she was fired for writing an erotic blog from her cubicle. Time theft is a crime! But only if you are an annoying butthole who bothers everyone.

 

You should protect yourself however, and not let anyone you work with in a position where they can screw with you. This girl might be a great friend to you, but try not to put too much power in her hands. It’s hard for some people to be ethical when they are handed opportunities to be sleazy. She could turn out to be the nicest person you’ve ever know, but you have to let time reveal that.

 

I also think if you can do so delicately, you should tell her what he’s saying. She should get a chance to defend herself against slander, and hide old tuna fish sandwiches in the guy’s desk.

 

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

Inconveinent Information – Wednesday August 12

2350222593_852f3d61a3I sat in the dentist’s chair wiping my sweaty palms over and over on my jeans.  I started doing it from necessity but it turned into a nervous tic.  After seven minutes my palms felt raw.

 

The dental hygienist walked in.  Her blond hair was teased up high and I could see bright pink lipstick through her mask. “Well hello there, haven’t seen you in a while!”  She said cheerfully.

 

“Hi, sorry.  I’m trying to be better”  I said.  “But everything feels ok”

 

“Oh good” She sat down next to me.  She asked me a few small talk questions: How do you like living in the city, what’s new, how’s work.  Nothing too challenging.  Then she asked me to open my mouth, and she held up a metal scraper.  She put it against my teeth and started working.

 

It was quiet in the office, only a few other people were there.  I couldn’t talk with her working in my mouth and immediately started worrying that I was boring her.  I didn’t want her to think I was some jerk who didn’t want to make small talk, even with my mouth full of weapon-like instruments.  So I said:

 

“Moow maar uurr rilrun?”

 

“Oh they are really something.  They are just driving me crazy these days.  You know the older one finally stopped saying she wants to kill herself, but you wanna know what happened to the younger one?”  She paused to build drama and I nodded my open mouth.  “Well she’s in high school now, and I guess she was kissing some guy.  Next thing I know, she’s got mouth herpes!”

 

I choked a little and she took the scraper out for a moment.  “Gosh”  I said.

 

“Oh you got that right.  Herpes.  You should have seen it.  It was horrible.  It was disgusting.  It was all over her lips and the roof of her mouth!  So I said, I said: Now don’t go telling kids at school that you’ve got mouth herpes.  Tell them its hoof and mouth disease, they don’t know the difference.”  She started working on my molars.

 

“Well does she listen to me?  No.  So everyone at school knows”  I politely decide not to point out that it’s early August, and what school is she in anyway?

 

She continues, “A few days later, someone has put up a facebook page for her herpes!  It says all these awful things like she sucks ____ and eats  ______ and that’s how she got herpes in her mouth.”  I nod again.  “She’s so upset, not to mention the herpes is just everywhere now, she can’t eat or smoke or anything.  Lucky for her, I’ve got the best psychic ever.  So my sister and I go to the psychic, and she tells us who did the facebook page, and you’ll never believe this…”

 

“Errrg?”  I say.

 

“No!  It was her BEST FRIEND!  That little bitch, she acted all nice and like she was such a good friend.  So I tell my daughter that she’s gotta start a facebook page saying her friend has herpes too!  Hahahaha!” I could taste blood in my mouth.
You know all the kids are going to get it anyway, the joke’s on them.  You know canker sores are herpes right?  Did you ever have canker sores?”  She took her torture devices out of my mouth so I could answer.

 

“No?”  I asked.

 

“Oh that’s good because that’s mouth herpes too.  So yea, anyways, she’s got the herpes now but I’m getting her the pills and I’m just telling her she learned an important lesson…”

 

As the hygienist prattled on I marveled at how she completely lacked the ability to read people’s reactions.  Maybe my open mouth prevented me from looking as horrified as I felt, but I suspect that even if I stood dry heaving and sobbing “No, please stop talking” this lady would keep talking.

 

When she finished cleaning my teeth I stood up and tried not to make eye contact.

 

“Here’s your toothbrush” she said “and remember: more flossing.  And canker sores are mouth herpes too.”

 

“Oh I’ll remember,” I said.  “Thank you SO MUCH.”

Batastic – Tuesday August 11

1797466598_4eccc6ac9a Dear Poor Lucky Me,

 

Have you heard about the rabid bats found in the Chicagoland area? Please explain your stance on this major problem.

 

I am writing this from the safe room in my home, and I don’t know how much oxygen I have left in here.

 

Signed,
Scared

 


Dear Scared,

 

You are right to be scared. That’s why ever since the we learned about bats 3rd grade I’ve been espousing the theory that you should never let a bat nest in your hair. Never.

 

No matter how trustworthy the bat seems, no matter how much you want the thrill of your person being another mammal’s home. Just say no to bats nesting in your hair.

 

You can leave your safe room at any time, but keep a gun with you. You never know what could happen, and in the end it comes down to you or the bat.

 

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

More Flags, More Mental Illness! Monday August 10

mr_six_old_guy_lgDear Readers,

 

It has become all too obvious that Six Flags Great America is trying to kill me.  I wasn’t sure at first.  Like last summer, I let myself believe I was just being paranoid.  I thought: “Well just because that horrible spokes-character annoys me doesn’t mean that the whole company is out to get me.”  Then I saw this summer’s commercials.

 

The spokes-thingie (who is actually named Mr.Six, which is fitting because he is obviously aligned with Satan) gets a lot more on-camera time.  The ads seem to have a bigger budget.  They’re higher concept than last year’s (which consisted of footage of the roller coasters and then the awful old man thing dancing across the screen) and thus have a more crushing affect on my brain.

 

Six Flags has also amped up their motto.  It is now the unsettling “More Flags, More Fun!”  I don’t know how long this has been their motto, but this summer Mr. Six started screaming it repeatedly at me through the television.  I’m pretty sure that was Stalin’s motto too.  Who ever thought that more flags made anything more fun, unless you are a color-guard or a communist?

 

The important thing is that I get this message out to you, my loyal readers.  I want you to know that if I turn up dead with a death-by-fun look on my face, it was Mr. Six and the Six Flags corporation.  I don’t know why they want to destroy me, but the evidence is undeniable.

 

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

Sexy Leader Outcry- Friday August 7

2684228539_1fe35aab2bMany people relied in outrage that I neglected to list Pope Benedict XVI in my list of sexy Euro-leaders. Allow me to briefly explain.

 

First of all, like Putin, Pope Ben has a serial killer quality about him. While that can be thrilling, it seriously limits the kind of sexy alone time fantasies you can have about the guy. One minute you’re having a romantic candle lit dinner, the next minute your fibula is floating in a Calphalon pot.

 

I understand that he has a lot of power in certain arenas and he’s got a sweet house and unique clothes, but I’m almost positive the guy’s a virgin. No offense, but that’s not terribly sexy is it? I suppose you could count on him to not have STD’s but do you really want to be responsible for giving an old guy his first sexual instruction? It’s not like he’s the Jonas Brothers for god’s sake.

 

Finally, I have to question the manliness of a guy who loves wearing velvet robes. Is he going to mow the lawn and go drinking in that outfit? Is that what he wears to tractor pulls? Come on, the Pope is not in the running my friends. He’s just not sexy or manly.

Looking to Our Leaders for Sexiness- Thursday August 6

I am hungry, and your face look so delicious...

I am hungry, and your face look so delicious...

 

 

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
Being a fan of Lee Greenwood and everything else American, I never would have thought I’d be in the debate that I am in right now. A friend of mine things that The Governator is the most manly/sexiest Euro trash-type leader. I’ve recently come to feel that Putin takes the cake. I’ll give him that Arnold had his day, but it is long since passed.

 

Please let me know what you think and why…

 

Signed, Vlad v. Arn

 

Dear Vlad V. Arn,

 

This was a difficult decision. I quickly narrowed the list down to Bill Clinton (he’s American but from Arkansas, so, you know), Vladamir Putin, Angela Merkel, Silvio Berlusconi, and Nicolas Sarkozy. I’m sorry but Arnold Schwarzenegger should not be on this list. He was a sexy weird freaky body builder actor. I know he’s now the leader of one of the top ten biggest economies in the world, but that’s not my fault.
Bill Clinton is very sexy and very Euro-trash, but at the end of the day his American citizenship will prevent him from being really nasty. So he’s off the list through no fault of his own.

 

Putin is sexy in a Hannibal Lecter sort of way. First he’ll wow you with his knowledge of pre-Soviet world political history, than he’ll eat your face. So he should be eliminated based on potential face or genital eating.

 

Silvio Berlusconi and Nicolas Sarkozy have unfair advantages because they are Italian and French. Really they should be in another contest because the sexiness that runs through their bloodstream is incomparable to people of other nationalities.

 

That leaves us with Angela Merkel. Angela has survived something that the rest of these leaders only have nightmares about: being pawed by George W. Bush. That oafish grope won her so much respect in my eyes. Somehow she managed to neither vomit nor punch Bush in the crotch, which is what I screamed at the television when I saw the incident: “Punch that Gomer Pile in the crotch Merkel!!” She is naturally very manly, being that she is German. Merkel’s Germanness, in fact, makes her 62% more masculine than Berlosconi and Sarkozy combined. She could beat both their asses in an arm-wrestling competition drunk on a bottle of NyQuil and two Qaaludes.

 

Angela Merkel is by far the sexiest, manliest, Euro-leader.

 

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

I’m Good At My Job – Wednesday August 5 2009

2753998700_086861e545One of my assigned tasks at work is to replace the water bottle on the Hinkley Springs dispenser.  I’m not exactly sure how big the bottle is, but my estimate is about 58 gallons.  Give or take.  Maybe 65.

 

I’ve worked out a system: First I remove the empty container.  Next I bend down, grasp the middle of the bottle, lift with my legs and heave it on the cabinet next to the water dispenser.  There are several huge scratches in the wood from my efforts.  After ten deep breaths, I put one hand on the bottom of the 97 gallon jug, one hand on the side, and heave it UP and OVER onto the rickety base.  Usually about one cup of water splashes onto the floor and wall as I do this.

 

Today there was an unprecedented breakdown in the system.  I was trying to be real cool and show the new hire how I can easily lift and flip the 108 gallon jug.  As I turned to grin, I felt the bottle slip.  Refusing to soak myself with water a la Liz Lemon, I hitched my wrist in an unnatural position and slammed the bottle into the wee dispenser.

 

I missed.  Water poured all over the power strip and electrical socket on the floor and walls.  (I put the power strip there a few months earlier in an execution of yet another great idea)

 

“AHHHHHHH” Yelled the new hire.

 

“Oh it’s cool” I said, sloshing water all over my feet, ankles, cabinet, wall, floor, into the little plugs in the power strip and into the paper shredder.  The shredder did not try and shred the water, as it had short circuited.  It was just patiently waiting to electrocute me when I had a free hand.

 

“OOOO SHIT” Yelled the new hire.

 

“Ha” I said, “It’s cool.  I do this all the time.”  I realized that the new person thought I meant I poured water over the electrical outlets and machines all the time, and probably thought I was psychotic.  “Ha.” I said again.  “I’ll grab a paper towel, hmmm?” I winked, trying to look self assured and un-psycho.

 

I came back from the bathroom with a huge stack of paper towels and knocked all the plugs out of the sockets using my sneaker.  The new hire stared at me.  I smiled back and mopped up the lagoon of once-bottled water, trying not to wince at the serious injury in my wrist.  It felt like a small bone in my wrist was broken, and the pain was radiating up my arm into my elbow.

 

“Well I guess my water skiing career is over before it started huh?” I chortled, with tears of pain pooling in my eyes.

 

“Ha” said the new hire.

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