Hey. Hey guys…um…hey. So I’m thinking it would be cool, nay, SUPER cool if you all got together and bought me this for my birthday. It’s a Guinness Pub. FOR MY HOUSE! I’ll pay for half if you guys cover the other $125K. And you’ll be invited over like ALL the time. Beers on the house because I’m super generous with my stuff. What do you say?

http://uncrate.com/stuff/authentic-guinness-home-pub/

(Source: thehighdefinite.com)

“Look guys, I like most of you, love a few of you and tolerate the rest of you. That will probably never change. But regardless of how I feel about you, I don’t discuss politics or religion with friends. That too will never change.

I have a very strong political opinion. My point of view won’t change your mind and if you happen to agree with me then I’m only preaching to the choir. I don’t need validation to believe what I believe. And I have no desire to prove to anyone that I am right and that you are wrong. I derive no pleasure in participating in online debates, even when some of you guys say things so idiotic that I have to walk away from the computer to keep from punching the screen. But I don’t say anything because I won’t change your mind and you have the freedom to be as wrong as your heart desires.

You know how before you post what happened on last night’s episode of [whatever show you’re all obsessed with now] that you preface it with SPOILER ALERT? I wish you would do that for politics. I wish I could request that before you share your political statement, article or comic that you preface it with the words ‘POLITICAL OPINION.’ Then I can stop reading before it’s too late.”

That’s what I want to post. But I can’t ask them to change. Not even the way they Facebook. So instead, I’ll create a new timeline called ‘Friends That Don’t Talk Politics.’ It’ll start off with everyone in it then I’ll gradually remove the violators. Sure it’ll mean that I’ll miss some stuff but if they’re real friends I’m sure they’ll find another way to share info with me. That’s what the real world is for anyway.

You don’t know me, Judgy McJudging Door. 

Leaving work, I’m walking by a large banner advertising an exhibition at an art museum. A homeless woman with a shopping cart full of plastic bottles and cans stops me. While I naturally assumed she would ask me for money she instead asked me what the exhibition was about. Quite surprised, I tried to explain. 

Homeless Lady: Is it good?

Me: Sure.

HL: Is it free?

M: No. It’s $15.

HL: Oh. Can I have $15 to go see it?

I smiled and gave her the change in my pocket. 

Well played Homeless Lady, well played.

[An open letter to an odd year. Feel free to ignore]

Dear 2011,

I’ll miss you. It’s true. I’ve met better, more handsome and even smarter years but you, by no means were the worst year I’ve ever dealt with. Don’t for a second think I’m comparing you to 2001. That guy was an abusive asshole. You sir, are no 2001. 

But let’s face it, 2011. You could’ve done better. Let’s talk about what you didn’t do for me. The things we specifically talked about when we first met:

I’m pretty sure I said no hurricanes. Certainly no hurricanes that break stuff and keep my power off for more than an hour. And while we didn’t actually discuss it, the earthquake thing, though relatively harmless, was completely unnecessary. Both in the same week was just plain rude.

Taking one of my dogs? Not cool. The other dog seems fine with it. He was tired of the extra effort it took to steal her food when I wasn’t looking. I, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate it one bit. 

A series of bad, really bad, and forgettable dates. Couldn’t you give me one? Just one good date is all I asked. What’s up with that?

Joshua Jackson-less episodes of Fringe. What were you thinking? You were better than that and I expected more.

Leak in the roof of my house. Honestly, 2011, why? Do I look like I have new roof money just waiting around. Well, I don’t. You should know better.

But your most egregious error: A random run-in with my ex. I almost defriended you for that one. The previous 7 years seemed to get it. You did not. Shame, 2011. Shame. On. You.

I’m counting on 2012 to clean up your mess.

But it wasn’t all bad. Not really. Here are the good things you did for me, for us:

Promotions (plural!), international travel, Guinness (I thank every year for that one), amazing friendships (old, new, internet and IRL), Google+ (Hahahaha! Kidding!), the US version of Shameless (amazing), an unquenchable addiction to podcasts for nerds (Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me, StarTalk, Nerdist, Dinobrain), the ability to jailbreak and unlock an iPhone (well done, us!), some really good concerts, some mediocre concerts, a decent number of UVA wins, my Nook (I’ve read a lot of good stuff!), and we can’t forget more Timothy Olyphant on my TV. That was awesome. Thanks, 2011.

Like I said, despite all, you will be missed.

Now as for you, 2012. You know what you did. You have a lot of work to do to make it up to me. And it’s only day 4. Call me ASAP. We need to talk.