Author: Poor Lucky Me

Thursday, February 19th

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
I work with a guy who keeps using “Happy Ending” as his big joke. I laughed the first 900,774,711,323,000,129 times he used it, but man, I can’t keep this up. Here are some examples (all “jokes” are accompanied by a sharp elbow thrust into the nearest warm body):
“I wish this meeting had a happy ending”
“I’d work on this more enthusiastically if I knew it came with a happy ending!”
“It’s not cheating if you call it a happy ending!”

Short of spitting in this guy’s face or doing a round-house kick to his knees, I don’t know how to stop this. I’m offended at the sloppiness and frequency of this joke. And as a happy ending enthusiast, I feel slightly embarrassed.

Signed,
Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,
Your colleague’s jokes are the comedy equivalent to water-boarding, and I don’t make torture jokes lightly. Unless I don’t have anything else to make jokes about. But in this case, the analogy is apt. Anyway, even reading those “jokes” made me punch my computer in fury, and now the I.T. guy is all annoyed at me. He was also really annoyed when I spilled a Slim Fast martini on my laptop though, so you know he’s completely unreasonable.

First of all, immediately stop laughing at the happy ending joke. In fact, when he says “happy ending” stop smiling, talking, and making eye contact. When he makes any other joke, scream laughing like he’s Billy Crystal. Next, when he elbows you scream “Ow” then fall to the floor rolling from side to side and moaning. If he (or anyone) ask what’s wrong just mumble incoherently for a minute or so, then walk around with an ice pack on the offended area for the next hour. Glare at the co-worker as often as possible. The final piece to the puzzle should come after a week of not laughing and faking injury:

Anytime he starts a joke that you know is going to end in “happy ending” start talking loudly over him. If he talks louder, you talk louder. If he gets annoyed, pull him aside and say your just trying to save his ass because you overheard some grumblings from H.R.

Unfortunately, you can count on him coming up with some equally stupid and offensive joke, but at least you can go back to getting hand jobs without embarrassment.

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

Wednesday, February 18th

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
Help! I’m in big trouble. For the past two weeks, I’ve had the Crash Test Dummies song “Mmm Mmm Mmmm Mmmm” stuck in my head! The song is enigmatic both in its meaning and it’s success, as far as I’m concerned.

Would you please enlighten us with your interpretation of the lyrics and the song’s commercial popularity in it’s hey day. Or is it hay day? Please answer that as well.

Yours Truly,
Anything’s Better Than That Suzanne Vega Song

Dear Anything’s Better,
That song has stood the test of time in it’s amazing ability to get stuck in your heads for months, even years. I don’t even know if its a good song, or just embedded with satanic chants that your brain can pick up on but are not audible to the human ear. When I played it for my dog last night she whimpered and hid under the bed. And she’s Pentecostal so you know she can pick up on devil chants. So that probably explains the song’s commercial success. Satan’s influence explains a lot of curious success stories (examples: Bill O’Reilly, Ryan Seacrest, Ann Coulture, Jim Belushi)

Now, let’s take a moment to read the song’s lyrics together and draw out some meaning:

Once there was this kid who
Got into an accident and couldn’t come to school
But when he finally came back
His hair had turned from black into bright white
He said that it was from when
The cars had smashed so hard

Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm

Once there was this girl who
Wouldn’t go and change with the girls in the change room
But when they finally made her
They saw birthmarks all over her body
She couldn’t quite explain it
They’d always just been there

Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm

But both girl and boy were glad
‘Cause one kid had it worse than that

‘Cause then there was this boy whose
Parents made him come directly home right after school
And when they went to their church
They shook and lurched all over the church floor
He couldn’t quite explain it
They’d always just gone there

Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm

So it’s a song about a few social outcasts. It’s like Radio Head, but doesn’t make you want to bury yourself in a hole in your backyard out of hopelessness and depression. Also, interesting that the kid who’s got it worst is the kid who has to go to the weirdo church. I mean he can eventually just rebel and stop going, those other kids have white hair and birthmarks all over their bodies for life. All three kids make me want to say “boofuckinhoo, at least you don’t live on a garbage dump in Micronesia…mmm mmm mmmm mmmm”.

It’s heyday, and the internet said it’s probably a variation of “heyda”; an exclamation of pleasure. Which, I will now incorporate into my daily speech.

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

Tuesday, February 17th

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
Is it wrong to take a figure drawing class just so I can see the naked models? I haven’t seen anyone naked in a while, and I think this could help while I figure out a long term plan.

Signed,
I Do Really Like Drawing, And Nudity

Dear I.D.R.L.D.A.N.,
I think you have found a wonderfully creative solution to your problem! Some people would just stumble into strip clubs or buy nudey mags, but you are going to better yourself while satisfying your urge to see unclothed people.

A figure drawing class would be great for several reasons: 1) It will stimulate your creative side, and keep your brain active. 2) It may offer you an opportunity to meet new people. One of these people (a classmate, not the models) may end up getting naked for you, possibly in a romantic setting. You already know that you share some things in common with your classmates- an interest in drawing and naked curiosity. Plus, you’re less likely to be stuck with a bunch of prudes or uptight types. 3) You are guaranteed to see a naked person or persons. Now, I must warn you; these people might not be “traditionally” good looking. Sometimes art teachers torture the uninitiated by hiring fatties, oldies, or freaky people to model for their classes. Personally, I don’t care. I think that humans are cool looking in all forms. The pretty, fit ones are nice, but I like variations too.

Once I took an adult swimming class. I had just moved to a new neighborhood and wanted to see a different side of the people that lived there. I already was a decent swimmer, and was in awe of the pool packed with flailing, panicked adults. One guy even had floaties on, which had no hope of lending any buoyancy to his six foot frame. His feet touched the bottom of the pool, but he said that the floaties just made him feel safer. I felt safer by having a few gulps of vodka on the bus on the way to the class. I guess everyone has their own thing, huh?

The class was a big hit- I made a few friends, became a better swimmer, and overcame my paralyzing fear of the flesh-eating virus colonizing in public pools. You should definitely sign up for your art class, but I think we’d all like to know: what are some aspects of your long term plan?

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

Monday, February 16th

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
When my best friend got married, I really tried to like his new wife. I went out of my way to share in her interests and pay attention to her.

I tried hard, and it turns out she just sucks. She’s a snob, she’s openly disinterested in things she doesn’t know anything about, and she steamrolls anyone who disagrees with her annoying opinions.

So what am I supposed to do? Is this the end of a great friendship? I shudder at the idea of hanging out the three of us. My own girlfriend has already written the wife off.

Signed,
I’ve Known Him Longer

Dear I’ve Known Him Longer,
Disliking a friend’s spouse is a common affliction as one moves into their twenties and thirties. It’s another reminder that grownupism sucks. In my youth, I had no problem saying “You’re boyfriend/girlfriend is a pain in the ass/ho/douche bag/narc and you should break up with him/her as soon as possible if not sooner.” Because I was very bossy, this usually did the trick. But after college and into our early careers, I started losing my resolve. It became harder to tell a friend that hanging out with his fiance made me feel like I’ve donated too much blood on a hot day without being provided any apple juice or crackers. Especially if the friend had already invested in a ring. In fact, this is one of the main reasons that I’ve started the Engagement Rings Are For Suckers facebook group.

Anyway, there are a few things you can do. You don’t want to give up on the friendship, that’s not fair. There are only a handful of cool people in this world, and you can’t let a lame wife box you out from a good friendship. First of all, you should really go out of your way to agree with her “annoying opinions” when you are forced to be in the same room with her. This really pleases douche bags, and keeps you from having to have long conversations with them. Sometimes people who are tools intentionally say provocative things, then they judge how you react to what they’ve said. It’s like that tic-tack-toe-playing-chicken’s method- they peck and peck until they get a positive or negative reaction that they can use. Second of all, try to make plans with your friend when you know the wife has other commitments. This is the only real solution to the lame-spouse dilemma. You just have to set up activities that you know she’ll hate or will conflict with her schedule, then hope that your friend gets the point.

Be forewarned: if he ever asks “Do you like my wife?” Reply, “I really do. We don’t have a ton in common but I do enjoy her. Especially because she makes you happy” Never ever say that you think she’s a boring snob who makes you want to fake a heart attack to get out of a conversation with her. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to tell the whole truth, and your friend already knows about the less desirable aspects of her personality, and he married her anyway. Maybe she’s a demon in the sack. We’ll hope so, for your friend’s sake.

Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me

Friday, February 13th

An Open Letter To Poor Lucky Me From Brad Pitt

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
I was so flattered to get your communiqué, and felt like getting a letter from you marked the zenith in my career. I also must apologize for my lawyer’s comportment. He is very protective of me and lacks the ability to recognize a charming and sapient fan trying to reach out to me. I have since reprimanded him and invite you to consider yourself my friend and adviser.

I’m thrilled that you liked my habiliments in Troy. I had to laugh when I read your letter because I too have a short attention span. We really have so much in common. I didn’t even watch the whole film, and I have most of my works playing in a continuous loop in various rooms of my homes! However, I had a lot to do with the outfit choosing. People think that actors are just winsome people who stand around and say things that other people write. Well, that’s true to some extent, but we also weigh in on crucial issues like wardrobe, and what kinds of food we want stocked in our trailers.

So much writing has made me weary, but I don’t want to end this letter without saying a few more things about myself. I find it of utmost importance to convey to people how important, trenchant, sensitive, mighty, and well-endowed I am. The tabloids portray me as some pretty-boy baby maker, being bossed around by my mentally unstable wife. They never mention our long games of monopoly, our hours of looking at photos of ourselves, and the essays we write to each other about our pivotal role in culture and society. We are truly heros.

Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for reaching out. Let’s be in constant touch, ok? I’m so lucky to have you in my life.

With Great Affection and Sexiness,
Brad Pitt

Friday, February 27th

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
I read about a girl who taught her dog to lift his leg when he pooped, so she didn’t have to pick it up. It’s an appealing concept on a not-having-to-handle-hot-poop level, but outrageous on a societal level. What do you think?

With Love,
Dismounting From My High Horse

Dear Dismounting,

No, no no no no no.  Please no.  Please.  You really must view picking up your dog’s poop as part of your bonding process.  When all the snow melted in Chicago a couple of weeks ago (don’t worry, now we have new snow) and I got a glimpse of all the sidewalk bombs that people thought they weren’t responsible for because the snow was hiding them, I had a complete nervous breakdown.  In fact there is still a policeman stationed inside the 7-11 near my house, because I stripped down to my undies and bust in there sobbing and babbling about soggy poos.  I was just trying to buy some baggies but I guess the owner got all freaked out and called the cops.

You don’t know rock bottom until you’re sitting in jail in old underpants and your mother won’t come get you because she assumes the phone calls are a joke.  Luckily the personal banker at Chase was still desperate to get me to open a savings account, so he came and got me.  Thank god for these tough economic times, and I don’t even believe in god.

Be cool, pick up your dog’s poo.

Sincerely,

Poor Lucky Me