What I Think Happens In Movies I’ve Never Seen

You’ve Got Mail

Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks both live in New York City and run bookstores, but Tom Hanks is a big-time corporate bookstore owner while Meg Ryan owns an independent one. They do not like each other. Using new, high-tech AOL instant messaging, the two strike up an online relationship without knowing each other’s true identities. Tom Hanks knows who she really is (maybe?) and they keep messaging but don’t meet up (I guess?). Then at the end they fall in love even though they are bookstore competitors or something.

Mrs. Doubtfire

Robin Williams is a divorced father of three or four kids (one of which probably became famous later on, but the rest were played by unknown child actors). His ex-wife, Sally Field, doesn’t trust him with the kids or won’t let him spend time with them (because he was an absent father when they were married?). In order to spend time with his children, Robin Williams decides to masquerade himself as a maid. There is one scene in which he lights his bosom on fire and there is also probably some type of musical montage where he is bad at doing household chores. The children eventually find out the maid is their father and Sally Field is touched by how much trouble Robin Williams went through to be with their kids. He is granted visitation rights.

Word Problems Worth Solving

Please write in pencil and show all your work.

If Susan is taller than Ricky and Jeffrey is shorter than Susan, how long will it take Ricky to find out Susan gave his brother a handy behind the bleachers?

A pie is divided into 8 equal slices. Bob and Nancy each eat more than one slice, but Bob eats his slices twice as fast as Nancy. How many slices can each of them eat before they realize they're in a loveless marriage?

Kurt walks into a clothing store with $57.83 in his pocket. If a pair of shoes costs $39.99, a pair of socks $12.99, a sweater $27.95, and a belt $16.50 how many minutes will he practice talking to himself in the fitting room mirror before flirting with the cute cashier?

Train A is traveling west at 80 mph. Train B is traveling east at 65 mph. Train A left the station at noon pacific time and Train B left at 3PM central time. At what time will it become evident that the passenger with the fedora is actually a Russian spy?

Billy has 50 coins in his collection. If he adds 20 more coins, he’ll have half as many coins as Raymond. How many years will it take Raymond to come out of the closet?

A bag contains 30 marbles. 4 are red, 6 are blue, 7 are black, 3 are white, and 10 are green. What is the probability that Mandy will choke on a blue marble and die?

10 Essential Etiquette Tips

1. It’s not polite to stare. It’s especially not polite if you get an erection while staring.

2. Always say “please” and “thank you” and “I didn’t pee on that tree, I swear!”

3. When picking your nose in public, be sure to ask the person standing next to you if he or she would like a taste.

4. Never eat with your mouth open, just let the food fall to your lap when it presses against your closed lips.

5. If you must flatulate during dinner, excuse yourself from the table and release your gas onto the nearest small mammal’s face.

6. Do not interrupt someone while he or she is speaking. In fact, never speak again in order to spare yourself the embarrassment.

7. Keep your elbows off the table, and your bottom off the chair.

8. Use the smaller fork for salad and the larger fork for scratching your genitals.

9. When you’ve finished your meal, smash your dinner plate on the ground and accuse your spouse of cheating on you.

10.  When in doubt, penis out (it helps break the tension).

New Year, New Me!!!!

An Email From Your Stupid Friend Sally

OMFG, its already new years! can u believe it! omg where does the time go? it feels like it was just xmas last week! LOL

so now that its new years i decided its time 4 me to fully embrace my full potential and becum a person who strives to attain her goals and aspirations. i am a strong and intelligent and beutiful and no 1 can tell me that i cant make my dreams come tru! all my dreams are stars and im gonna reach up and take them!!! female power ladies!!!!

i think the most important thing is to find a boyfriend who will treat me right and buy me things and has nice abs. heheheh its not like im shallow but if ur gonna date me you gotta be hotttt!!! ;) LOL jk but really tho this is serious. i need some1 who will cuddle me and be my whole wide world. i wanna be able to post pics of us on fb and hav every1 be like 'omg sally ur boyfriend is so hotttt' and 'you guys r totes perf' and ill be like 'yea im sooooooooooooooooo luckyyyyyyyy.' and i wanna like tweet song lyrics that apply to our relationship because our love will be reeeaaalllyyy deep and the only way to express it is thru song lyrics <3

You Better Watch Out

        

    While the children are snug in their beds, St. Nick slips in through the chimney and eats some milk and cookies. He places the presents under the tree and goes on his merry way. That’s if you're good. If you’re naughty, and live in the Alpine countries, a far darker fate awaits you. Instead of getting coal, Alpine children are tortured by a demonic creature with cloven hooves and fur until they repent for their sins. If they’re really bad, no amount of repentance can save them. They’re dragged to hell in the beast’s sack and are devoured as its Christmas dinner.

    This creature is known as the Krampus and in Eastern Europe he and Santa travel around together on Christmas going from home to home. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop duo. While most Americans would be shocked to know that Santa (who was originally a bishop) would keep such company, the Krampus actually predates the birth of Christ. Like a lot of aspects of our modern Christmas celebration, the Krampus has his roots in Pagan traditions.

How to Cook Thanksgiving Dinner for One

       

      Hey there! Looks like you’ve had a rough year, huh? I’m not being presumptuous but you are all alone on Thanksgiving. Obviously something’s gone wrong. Anyway, I’m here to help! I’m gonna teach you how to cook Thanksgiving dinner for one in a few easy steps. Let’s get started!

Happy Thanksgiving Kids!

     Hi family, time to get excited! I’m about to cook Thanksgiving dinner! Yes, I know it’s only been a week since the doctor let me out of the hospital, but I think I’m ready to start taking on new challenges and I’m gonna start by cooking us a lovely meal!

     Since I’m not allowed near sharp objects, we can’t have turkey. Sorry kids, but ol’ dad isn’t legally able to use knives so unless you wanna eat the meat directly off the turkey, there’ll be no turkey. This means there’ll also be no stuffing. We can’t go out to eat because daddy isn’t allowed to leave the house for the next six months.

      Why the long faces everyone? Cheer up! I know it’s gonna be hard, but this family has been through MUCH worse. Remember that time I killed Fluffy and put his body parts in each of your beds? That was a dark chapter in our family’s history, and we’ve moved past it. Look how happy we are now!

Thanks For Nothing

Unfortunately, none of us were high on heroin in this picture.

       I grew up with a secure, loving family in a nice suburban area. This is the worst possible way for a writer to grow up. If I were raised by drug addicts in the ghetto I'd already have the makings of an interesting memoir. Unfortunately, there's no built-in struggle to the story of my childhood, and it’ll probably be a while before I’m able to write a memoir and become a famous writer. My parents encouraged me to follow my dreams and made sure I always had everything I ever needed and more. I never worried about having a roof over my head. I never went hungry and anyone who knows what I looked like from ages 8 to 16 can attest to this.

I'm Mike Fletcher

     

      I’m Mike Fletcher, alter ego of Chris Williams and the most important thing to know about me is that I’m much cooler than him. I’m a film major at NYU entering my junior year. I have a fake ID and I hang out at cool bars in Williamsburg with all my hipster friends. One of them is in a band. Another one is a performing artist. Sometimes we do gateway drugs together.

    I have sex all the time and I can totally pull off wearing a leather jacket. I’m great in social settings and I never make inappropriate jokes about the Holocaust when first meeting someone. I have perfect vision and I don’t need glasses. I can wear non-prescription sunglasses like normal people and my facial hair grows in evenly.

Let's Hang Out

       
      Hello, your body looks nice in those clothes. Mind if I come closer to get a whiff of your hair? No? Ok, I’ll smell it later. Who am I? I’m Chris. We have English together and we had Spanish together. Don’t you remember me? Really? You don’t? We’ve talked several times. That’s weird that you don’t remember me. I’ve lent you three pens. And you still haven’t given them back.

       I added you over two months ago on Facebook and you still haven’t accepted my friend request. I’ve been checking every ten minutes to see if you’ve accepted me, but you haven’t. Your privacy settings are really secure and I can’t see any pictures from when you went to Cabo over spring break. I bet you wore a bikini.

That Signature Look

     I need to be more like Hitler; he had the right idea. Right now I’m too much of an Osama. In case you’re wondering, I’m referring to appearances. I’m not referring to these men’s ideologies; let’s keep this superficial.

      I was on the subway last week and a Muslim man got on the train, dressed to the nines. He had on the full garb (yes, I know I am being insensitive by not using the proper terms for Muslim clothing, but I do not know the actual terms and “garb” is a lot better than calling someone a “towel head,” so we’ll stick with “garb”). The second this man stepped on the train, I immediately thought “Osama Bin Laden!” It wasn’t as though I thought this man was a terrorist but my thought was more of a “Hey, that’s how Osama Bin Laden used to dress.” Still, making this immediate association was a disappointment to me. “Really Chris?” I thought, that's what some Kansas hillbilly in New York for the first time would think. I wanted to go up to this man and apologize and tell him that I respected his religion and maybe buy him some ice cream. But then again, I’m sure almost everyone else in the subway car thought the same thing I did. If I didn’t offer him guilt-ridden ice cream, then someone else would. 

Cats Who Speak English

A FAREWELL TO THE SPANISH LANGUAGE

      I never have to speak a word of Spanish again, which is probably a good thing since I haven’t retained all that much of it. As of the end of this semester, I have officially achieved exit level status in my studies of the Spanish language. But if I had my way, I would have been done with it 12 years ago.

     One day in the second grade, without warning, a small Hispanic woman who was most likely an illegal immigrant came into our classroom and started speaking to us in broken English. She was there to teach us the Spanish language. I was familiar with Spanish from my younger years, when Big Bird tried to shove it down my throat every few months on Sesame Street. Other than that I had very little interest in learning a new language. I was seven, I had just mastered reading and writing in English and already I was being forced to start from scratch with a weird alphabet where some of the letters had marks or squiggly lines above them. This was not all right.

Hidden Talent

    

     By the time I was in seventh grade, my parents began to worry I was useless. I had no discernable hobbies or talents, and I showed early signs of being unemployable and homeless. My parents always told me how much they loved me, but I doubt either of them planned on spending their retirements taking care of the 30 year old on their couch. So, my mom decided it was time I developed into better person, and she had the perfect way to do it. She forced me to take guitar lessons.

       I use the word “forced” for a reason. I did not do this willingly. To me, it seemed pointless to take up a hobby. I was perfectly content with my musical inabilities and saw no reason to change things. I tried rationalizing with my mom. I was already 12, I told her; if I had musical talents we would’ve figured it out already. I was too old to be learning new tricks. At the time, I honestly thought I had fully developed as a person and that I knew everything there was to know. Shockingly, this turned out to not be true. Do you guys know about that secret arrow in the FedEx logo? That shit’s crazy.

Let's Read a Book

   

         I’m about to start reading Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. It is only one of the finest, if not tantalizing and controversial, literary works of the 20^th century. It’s European, and from the ‘50s, so yeah, it’s pretty awesome.

      You’re probably too busy playing Words with Friends or napping to spend quality time with such fine literature. Your idea of reading is skimming over your Twitter and Facebook feeds. Well, unlike you, I spend hours pouring over books that you’ve never even heard of. Some of them are difficult reads, but that doesn’t stop me. I’m really well read and I have an amazing vocabulary. I was reading Tolstoy when I was seven.

       Now, if you don’t mind I need to get to my reading.

       Ok, here we go, Chapter 1.

You Only Live Once, And Then You're Dead

     

      I just ate 490 calories worth of pudding. It wasn’t even that good. I should have been writing my final paper for 18^th Century Wit, but instead I decided to buy pudding because, as I told myself, “I deserved a treat.” To be clear, I did not deserve a treat.

      A draft of my paper is due tomorrow and I have no idea what to write about. To make matters worse, I haven’t read the book I’m supposed to be writing about. Nevertheless, I put my books away after 15 minutes and made my way outside to purchase some pudding. I saw the large cup of pudding in the refrigerated container and knew it was a lot. I knew it would be better not to buy it, there were some perfectly nice bananas close by. But, guess what. I bought it and ate it. Then I made the mistake of looking at the label. 490 calories, 16 grams of fat, 580mg of sodium.

     This entire weekend had been incredibly self-indulgent as evident by my laundry hamper, which smelled like an episode of Mad Men. I had made some questionable choices, but no regrets, just love. After all, you only live once. The pudding, however, was a whole other animal. Suddenly, it seemed wrong to have eaten so much pudding. Why had I made such a bad choice? Suddenly, it seemed like I had been making a lot of bad choices lately. I haven’t been reading or writing as much, I don’t get enough sleep, I’m behind on all my work, I go on Twitter when I’m at my job. I shouldn’t even be typing this right now because I need to go to my professor’s office hours to talk about the paper I haven’t started yet. Where’s my initiative? Why don’t I care? Where is my life headed? Should I get some more pudding?

      YOLO, or for the unhip “you only live once,” is a good motto to live by. It means taking risks and throwing convention to the side. You have nothing to lose, so you might as well go for it, right? Well, maybe. But, dear readers, I can say without a doubt that YOLO is best not applied to pudding. If you buy pudding and eat too much of it, you’ll be forced to question where your life is headed and become even more self-indulgent by writing about it. Yes, it’s true, you only live once, but after eating 490 calories of a shitty dessert the romanticism of the motto wears off and you realize after life comes death. And after too much pudding comes a really bad tummy ache.

Such a Tease

      

     “I want to rub my naked breasts all over your face,” she whispered into my ear.

     “Wow, I’m flattered, but no thank you,” I replied.

      This middle-aged stripper was being incredibly forward.

     “I want to touch you and feel you,” she said in broken English through the gaps in her teeth, “I’m not just saying this, I like you.”

      “No thank you,” I said, trying to get her to leave me alone. All I wanted was to have a relaxing night out, but obviously I had done too good a job looking sexy that night; the strippers were all over me.

Choose Your Own Adventure Story!

    
     It is 8AM and your alarm wakes you up. Class starts in a half hour. Pick 1 to get out of bed or 2 to go back to sleep.

1. Time to shower! After that you brush your teeth, and get dressed. Now it’s time to go to class. To go to class choose 3. To go to JFK airport and hop on a flight to Somalia, choose 4.

2. You sleep for an additional 4 hours and wake up because the sun is incredibly bright. You decide to get out of bed and get dressed. Go to 5 to put on a blue shirt, go to 6 to put on a green shirt.

3. Wow, you’re really bad at this. You’re not allowed to read anymore.

4. Somalia is really sunny. Better put on some sunscreen! Next, you decide to do some sightseeing. To ask a local for directions pick 7. To buy a sword, pick 8.

I Heart NYC!!!

Dear Mom and Dad,

     Susie and I are having a terrific time on our honeymoon in the “Big Apple” (that’s what REAL New Yorkers call NYC!!!). We’ve only been here a week but we already feel like we’ve seen everything! We fit right in, we bought “I Heart NY” gear just like the real New Yorkers wear! There’s so much here, I don’t even know where to start.

       The nightlife! It’s amazing! Especially The Times Square, there’s so many lights! It’s like every night is a celebration! And there’s SO MANY great restaurants. They have an Olive Garden and a TGI Fridays! It’s the best food I’ve ever eaten! (Just kidding mom, I love your pot roast!). Oh, and the buildings here are really tall. I can’t believe it! I can stretch my neck all the way back and just be able to make out the top of it!!

FAKE NEWS: Child Receives No Christmas Presents, Family Sues Santa

    On Sunday morning, millions of children awoke to find presents from Santa Claus piled high beneath their Christmas trees. But for 11-year-old Billy Prescott, the only thing beneath his tree was the floor of his family home in Faketown, Connecticut.

     “I don’t understand,” said Prescott “I was good all year. I was sure Santa would come.”

     The boy’s parents, Roger and Helen Prescott, were equally baffled. “I helped Billy make cookies for Santa this year and everything,” said Mrs. Prescott “We had fully prepared for Mr. Claus’ arrival.”

     “Look, something is wrong here,” said Mr. Prescott, “Billy is 11 years old and this is the only year that Santa hasn’t come. Something needs to be done about this.”

A Christmas to Remember

Photo via Flickr by Nationaal Archief

    Jim and I truly had a Christmas to remember this year. And that is really saying a lot when you consider last Christmas. Jim bought me my very own private island. I haven’t visited it or anything, since I hate the hot weather, but it really is the thought that counts and he knew I always wanted one just to be able to say that I had it. Jim is always so good at getting presents, but I always struggle. Last year, I bought Jim an Indochinese tiger. He liked it enough, I guess, but I could tell that his eyes didn’t light up the way they should have. I really should’ve gotten him the Bengal tiger.