Tag Archives: Kitty Genovese

There Can Be Only Two Best of 2016 Lists

Photo by Chris Potter

A big thank you to everyone who chimed in last week to help me decide which of my Best Of 2016 lists I should make public. Wouldn’t you know it, after weeding out the millions of fraudulent votes, it came down to a tie. Ah well, here’s the both of them. Goodbye 2016!

Top Ten Fake Phone Calls I Took To Avoid Talking To My Imaginary Friend

10. Sorry, Blinkers, but I’ve been waiting since like forever (okay, last Wednesday) for the center of the earth to return my call.

9. Sorry, Blinkers, my left brain is really circling the drain right now, I’ve got to take this.

8. Sorry, Blinkers, it’s my inner child calling collect from the California Men’s Colony.

7. Sorry, Blinkers, only real boys can hear Mrs. StoryBottoms through the phone I’ve turned my thumb and pinkie into.

6. Sorry, Blinkers, it’s my dream broker, and there’s this amazing naked-at-school-astride-a-unicorn-made-of-soft-serve-ice-cream stock I have to hear about.

5. Sorry, Blinkers, but this is the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn about a revolutionary new foot cream that American podiatrists are keeping a secret from me.

4. Sorry, Blinkers, it’s Frankie Foodstain, the coping mechanism my dumb therapist came up with when I was in fifth grade and couldn’t eat my lunch without wearing most of it the rest of the day.

3. Sorry, Blinkers, there’s just never a good excuse later for hanging up on the mother of my octopus babies.

2. Sorry, Blinkers, I’m on the line with your supervisor, you know, about the things you made me say when I was supposed to be allodoxaphobic.

1. Sorry, Blinkers, my god, I’m 42 years old.

Photo by Broken Sphere

Top Ten Thoughts I Didn’t Keep To Myself After You Left About The Crappy Tuna Casserole You Baked At The Last Minute Only Because You Felt Guilty About Not Remembering It Was A Potluck When We Ran Into Each Other At The Store And You Didn’t Compliment My New Haircut

10. Is that a casserole, or did someone just perform an autopsy on my neighbor’s Pomeranian and do you notice anything different about me?

9. I’ve seen fresher tuna on the sidewalk after too much Saki and what if I turn my head this way, anything?

8. Forget Tuna Helper, this garbage came right out of a box of Tuna “Hurter” and how about now, in this light it should be easier to tell.

7. You can taste it in the peas, he has a serious mental condition he’s not telling anybody about and here you sit down and look up at me from that angle, it’s really pretty obvious.

6. What kind of person takes home the potholders he brings to a potluck? The kind who lets Kitty Genovese die that’s who and I’m going to walk a little bit so you can see me from the back.

5. No, I thought sprinkling in the potato chips was a classy touch too, I always top my meals with whatever’s left at the bottom of a bag and I think the problem is there’s a glare coming off the windows and when you squint it’s hard to tell something’s changed about me.

4. Oh, were those noodles? I thought somebody’d got into my uncle’s tapeworm collection and how about I hold up this picture of me from last week and you compare it to the me right in front of you?

3. What do you think, he must’ve put in 3/4 of a cup of can’tcookforshit when a 1/2 cup would’ve been plenty and seriously I can’t draw you a better picture of what’s going on on my head.

2. Yeah, I know exactly which cookbook this came out of, How To Cook Everything With Apathy Worst Friend Ever and everyone shut up I want everyone’s attention right now stop talking and listen to me I can’t believe I have to do this at my own potluck.

1. I got my freaking hair cut. Okay?! NEW. HAIRCUT. Assholes.