May 1st, 2010
I’ve always had the opinion that there are 2 types of people in this world. They’re not divided between those who are smart or stupid, rich or poor or Democrat or the other one. We all fall into one of the two categories: People who can hang. And people who cannot.
Seldom do I sing my own praises, but I will now. I sense that I fall into the former category as my dad always said that if I could make money for making friends...I would be very rich. Yay me.
Perhaps you are unsure which category that you fall into. Help me help you.
Have you found yourself in any of the following situations?
(Location - A small party in a Manhattan apartment. Nice view. Crudités. Medium priced Merlot.)
• You’re feeling adventurous and come to the decision that it would be wise to be exploratory and combine LSD, tranquilizers, amphetamines, hashish and Children’s Tylenol. This is followed by locking yourself in the one bathroom…shaking, vomiting and being berated by the voices in your head. In Dutch. The other party goers are left with only one option. Piss off the balcony.
• You have no interest in the other guests. You only talk about yourself. And not even interesting material. People have little to no interest that you have the gift of being able to lodge a cashew in your nostril for 12 hours.
• Due to your debilitating obsessive germaphobe compulsion, you wear yellow garden gloves while shaking party goers' hands.
• You feel everyone teams up against you when they're curious about your 6th toe. ..You run out the door in an angry huff. And then come back to steal the host’s cat. You leave again.
• You decide that you have the gift of managing the music selection. You just assume, "Who wouldn’t want to listen to Yanni, Jermaine Jackson and a Michael Crichton book on tape?"
Sorry to say, you are in the dreaded cannot hang category if you replied affirmative to any of these scenarios with “Yes! Yes! That’s me Jax. Hold me. And never let me go!” Come here you. I’m a softy. Blessing and a curse.