Math Problem Dialogues

SALLY: But really, I thought there was only a 1:5 probability that you would draw a green chip out of the sack. I swear it!

TOM: Well, doesn’t matter now. Into the fire pit I go.

JEN:  The one thing you promised me in this relationship was that 3/8 of this pizza was mine. We worked it out in the chart and everything!

RICK: That was true…until I met Nancy. I have a new pie chart now.

TRACY: The car stopped moving for more reasons than simply its slope of zero here on the graph.

JOHN: Honey, I accepted that the car stopped moving a long time ago.

But Did You Notice “Active Member of Smash Mouth’s Street Team” In The Special Skills Section Of My Resume, Sir?

Sir, with all do respect, you really should rethink your decision to not give me this job. I’d be a great administrative assistant for your real estate company. I’m professional on the phone, I can work with Excel, and I’m on Smash Mouth’s street team.

It’s a really demanding position. I’m not just on the street team. I’m an active member and have been for almost twelve years now. I’m in charge of organizing the general Broward County area Mouth Heads. You’re probably wondering why we don’t call ourselves All Stars. Mouth Heads was just one of my many initiatives with the nationwide street team. All Stars is SO obvious. We’re smarter than that.

This position requires me to make posters, organize group lunches every other Thursday at P.F. Chang’s, and run the notoriously rowdy Broward County section of the message boards. People skills are vital to administrative assistance, and I believe that my experience with online forum management has given me just that and so much more. Whether it is approving who can and cannot be included in the secret, password-only section of the board called “The REAL Astro Lounge” or deleting hundreds of pages of porn, I have grown and learned a lot from this demanding side of my job.

Your office is really bare. Do you want a 2000 tour poster? I have a stack in my trunk.

No, I don’t get paid. Street teaming is more than just a “volunteer activity” or “an embarrassment”, as all 2 of my exes call it. It’s a life choice. You’re either in or you’re out. And I, sir, am most definitely in. Just ask Steve Harwell. He signed one of my sneakers once. Look!

Oh. If you do give me the job, first request is that I can wear sneakers in the office. Please?

Facebook Notifications I Keep Checking For

Anderson Cooper and 5,999,999,999 others like your status and your general disposition, opinions, sense of humor, and life choices.

 Oprah Winfrey invited you the event LIVE WITH ME FOREVER: I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU!!

Paul Rudd, Ryan Gosling, and Christian Bale have shirtlessly listed you as their wife.

Zooey Deschanel approved your request to join the group People Who Get To Do And Be In Fun Things All The Time

Alan Alda and All Noble Horses/Steeds want to be your friend.

The Internet In Therapy

THERAPIST: Tell me, what’s been getting you down lately?

INTERNET: She just…she expects so much from me.

THERAPIST: Well, let’s talk about this. You’ve been letting her treat you this way for about how long now?

INTERNET: Well, she started using me about twelve years ago. First it was just to play her Nickelodeon online games. Innocent stuff. Like where you collect candy on a skateboard. This was maybe three times a week after school, for only about thirty minutes at a time. We were having a great time. But now…it’s…it’s horrible.

THERAPIST: Take your time. This is a safe zone.

INTERNET: I just can’t give her what she wants anymore. It’s this constant neediness. God, what am I?! A GENIE? No! I’m the goddamn internet! I can’t handle her refreshing all three of her email accounts, all open in three different tabs, at the exact same moment on a 4-minute loop for hours at a time. It’s an emotional workout.

THERAPIST: Have you tried to talk to her about this? Maybe show her how you feel?

INTERNET: Oh believe me, I’ve tried. I’m really slow now. I made her install a new version of Flash even though the old one was perfectly good. I even froze just as she was posting a message on her crush’s Facebook wall, making it post multiple times, hopefully embarrassing her. But she doesn’t get it. Now she has excellent video quality and that incident is a fun inside joke between her and her crush. I can’t get through to her.

THERAPIST: Well, let’s think about her for a second. How have these twelve years changed her? When did you start to notice something was different?

INTERNET: AIM was the first red flag. I could tell she wasn’t being herself. Her away message quoted the movie “Drumline”.

THERAPIST: And it only got worse?

INTERNET: That’s an understatement. She just started spending so much time with me. Okay, I did offer MySpace. I know that wasn’t a good decision on my part.

THERAPIST: You were an enabler.

INTERNET: Yeah, that was a really rocky time. She started to spend hours with me. Blogging about her freshman year of high school.

THERAPIST: A 14-year-old writing their deepest thoughts assuming people wanted to read it? You actually let her get away with that?

INTERNET: I SAID IT WAS A ROCKY TIME.

THERAPIST: Okay, okay. This is all really important. We’re breaking through.

INTERNET: Then it was every single day after school. And weekends, don’t even get me started.

THERAPIST: Did dating get in the way of any of this?

INTERNET: No. It made it worse. Poems.

THERAPIST: Oh dear…

INTERNET: Yeah. And now, she checks me every day. So many times. For notifications.

THERAPIST: To fulfill some void inside of her?

INTERNET: Yes…yes! It all makes sense now! She is using me to fill a void! Oh god…

THERAPIST:  Again, this is a safe zone. Use all the tissues you need.

INTERNET: But she also needs me to do her homework. Her professors make her use me. It’s a cycle I can’t break free from. Maybe someday! Maybe in a few years people will realize what a vacuum I am and stop making me a necessary part of their day!

THERAPIST: …I’m afraid your session time is up. But next week let’s exclusively focus on your crippling delusions.

A Universe-Wide Mandate: On The Quality Of Lyric Websites

As your Universal Commander, I try to let you all know of the deep, undying love I have for each and every one of you and your artistic individuality. After all, I am the only Universal Commander this millennium to not sign the proposed amendment to the Universal Constitution banning Jason Mraz to create things. You’re welcome.

But alas, I must put my fin down. Things have been troubling me in your culture. Specifically, your lyric websites. They are too slick, professional, and there aren’t nearly enough misspellings. What happened to the good old days, when citizens of the universe could just kick back and relax about everything? Why can’t a working-class guy just look up lyrics to “Love Shack” and also get to see some fun blinking pop-up ads as a surprise?  So today, I issue a universe-wide mandate: On the Quality of Lyric Websites.

I, Universal Commander, hereby command that all song lyric websites make noise when you arrive. Whether it be a smiley face emoticon banner ad that screams a delightful greeting or a Toyota commercial that renders the rest of your screen opaque and unusable until it is over, every lyric homepage and sub-page should remind the viewer that they left their sound turned up too high from when they were watching that grainy YouTube video about boners from a college sketch group.

I hereby forbid any song lyric website from depriving the humble viewer of offers for cellphone ringtones. This is especially true if it is an offer for the ringtone of the specific song the humble viewer is looking up. This marketing makes sense to me. If a viewer is looking up lyrics to R. Kelly’s “Ignition” they clearly are proud of this and want it to be known. Let the wise men who come after us keep this sales targeting tactic strong!

I hereby command that no page in a song lyric website’s domain is to go without the words “hot” or “dance mix”. Just put it in there somewhere. Anywhere.

I hereby forbid any song lyric website from looking too sleek. This is not a PR firm! This is a convivial, laughs-and-gags only environment! The following are forbidden under this mandate:

  • Any font that looks BORING like Arial, Calibri, or Times New Roman. Courier New will be punished with immediate death in my titanium-spiked anti-gravity chamber.
  • The colors white or black. Unless they are part of a fun zebra design behind an Aaron Carter photo. Then you have my blessing.
  • Lack of many, many, many links to other places. And potentially pornographic ones at that.

And lastly, I hereby forbid anybody over the age of fourteen years who is not male and also a pyromaniac from taking any part in creating and maintaining these websites.

Signed,

Your Universal Commander

Morning Musts

  1. Get out of bed without pressing “SNOOZE”
  2. Stretch
  3. Wash face
  4. Look at castle photo slideshow
  5. Make scrambled eggs
  6. Check planner for the day’s errands
  7. Look at wedding gown photo slideshow
  8. Get dressed (skip the gown today)
  9. Brush teeth
  10. Go through cellphone contact list, call all males
  11. Hop on the subway
  12. Hopefully today’s the day someone proposes! If not, wish extra hard and repeat tomorrow!

New Ways In Which I Want People To Like Me

There’s a lot more to search for than general approval, such as the following:

Hasn’t seen or talked to me in years but now I’m winning an Oscar and they’re in the audience, tearing up, appreciating from afar.

Thanking me for making a “Sunday in the Park with George” reference. And then singing “Sunday” with/to me.

Buying me a nice cashmere scarf. Theirs is matching. They want us to be mistaken for each other like in “The Parent Trap”. We eat cookie dough and watch “The Parent Trap”. (Lohan version)

Telling me their deepest, darkest secret. Then they give me their debit card and general identity information.

Showing envy towards me. I suggest we switch lives, which we do. They get arrested for my seedy past. I visit them in jail decades later on their last day alive before execution. We eat cookie dough and watch “The Parent Trap”. (Lohan version)

The Soundtrack Of My Life

“Put on Your Sunday Clothes” – Hello Dolly! Cast Recording – Mary Martin

“The Battle of Hampton Roads” – The Monitor – Titus Andronicus

“iPod Earbuds Falling to the Ground Multiple Times While I Try and Untangle Them” – 4:00pm Every Single Day – Me, Declaring That I Hate All Music Forever and Ever