Real Talk: His Kitchen Equipment Better Be On-Point

From Shelby, who really likes it when a dude has kickass kitchen gadgets:

This is what I'm like when I see his Kitchen-Aid standing mixer

About me: I'm Belieber-level of insane about food. I love food more than Kristen Stewart
loves looking bored at red carpet events. It’s safe to say roughly 95% of my life decisions revolve around food, and who I choose to invite to the Shelby party of two better be on board with that. 

If I walk into his house and see a ragged box of Cheerios, a bottle of watery ketchup rolling solo in the fridge, and a loaf of bread that’s gone stale from neglect, I can only assume a cranky toddler did his grocery shopping. When I saw that he only owned four cereal bowls, a pint glass he jacked from St. Patrick’s Day 2010 and a mishmash of kitchen items that look as if they were lifted from the breakroom of The Land of Misfit Toys, I can’t help but do the slow wall slide. Sorry dude, my vagina has gone full-on Popple and playtime is over.

So imagine my delight when I walked into his kitchen for the first time and saw what appears to be either the entire wedding registry list of cookware he won in the divorce settlement or at the very least, a serious-as-all-hell set of pots and pans. Are those REAL knives, too? Stop it. You know how to grill a steak to Instagram-worthy perfection? Swoon. WAIT. Is that a decanter?! You deCAN unzip this dress, you Williams-Sonoma wonder.

At this point, I’m sure you’re asking, “Shelby, why do you care?” or “Why are you such a judgy dick?” Both fair questions. Listen, a guy that can get it done in the kitchen is 100% the sex because chances are he’s creative, clever and *TRUMPETS PLEASE* a man. So ladies, or dudes that like dudes, keep those eyes peeled for a Kitchen-Aid because you've found yourself a three-Michelin star fella. Now to answer your second question: it’s probably because I’m hungry.

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Real Talk: I Think I'm Jaded!

This USED to be me!

Sure, he's a short dude with dark hair and great style and a perfect sense of humor, but I ain't gettin' my hopes up here, folks. It sucks that my default mode is "jaded" right now, but as soon as he flashed me a smile, I prepared myself for disappointment.

He's well-read and has a great vocabulary? He's probably married with a baby on the way, right? He likes Black Sabbath, keeps his car clean, and has a cool sister? What's the catch? There has to be a catch. There always is.

He probably has bad breath and snores like a mofo. Or he doesn't pay his taxes. Or he's still hung up on his ex-girlfriend who wants nothing to do with his crazy ass. Or my friend has already dated him and apparently he's terrible in bed. Or he's dating six other girls and is just pretending to be emotionally available. Or he doesn't know how to drive. Or he's racist. Or he's so set in his ways that he's totally unwilling to go anywhere or try anything new. Or he hates children. Or he hates cats. Or he hates children when they play with cats or something equally bizarre.

No guy can possibly be this wonderful. There has to be a catch! It's only a matter of time until it's revealed. I'm already bracing myself for it.

I wish I wasn't so jaded when it comes to dudes. I don't know how to become un-jaded. I wish I could look into his eyes and my first thought wouldn't be, "How and when will you disappoint me?" Any ideas about ways to cure my jadedness? I'm open to suggestions!

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Can We All Talk About How Much Michael J. Fox Rules For A Second?

Seeing Michael J. Fox play "Johnny B. Goode" the other night at his annual A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Cure Parkinson’s event was the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. I'm (practically) a life-long fan of his and watching him play guitar--LIVE!--was beyond unreal. He straight-up shredded. It was like watching Michael Jackson do the Moonwalk or something; just a completely iconic performance. But, let's back up a bit.

Michael J. Fox was my dream guy before I even knew what dream guys were. When I was little, I was obsessed with Alex P. Keaton from Family Ties. He was a jittery Republican who constantly ran his hands through his feathered hair and I was an awkward, chubby nine-year-old; clearly we were a match made in heaven.

For my birthday that year, I went to see Back to the Future at the movie theater. Watching him as Marty McFly was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life up to that point. Those tight jeans! Those suspenders! THOSE PURPLE CALVIN KLEINS! I didn’t even know a guy’s underwear came in purple. Talk about a gamechanger. It was the first time a boy had made my heart flutter. I'm telling you, Marty McFly skateboarded his way straight into my young heart. I wondered what his neck smelled like and what it’d feel like to squeeze his thigh the way Lorraine did under her parents’ dining room table. I wanted him to gaze at me the way he gazed at the 4 x 4 truck at the end of the film. I wanted to know. I needed to know.

After I saw the movie, I plastered my walls with Michael J. Fox posters which I’d eagerly tear out of Teen Beat magazines. He was in stereo, smiling at me from all sides of my bedroom. A million Michael J. Foxes hovering like attentive, friendly boyfriends. Whip our your hankies because let's just say that it was a longshot to take our imaginary relationship to the next level. Unfortunately, I’d have to settle for a crush. Boohoo, I know.

I've already written about how I love dating shorter guys, and looking back, I can say that it all started with him. And, my adoration for him hasn't faded in the slightest. In fact, I still have a Michael J. Fox poster on the back of my bedroom door. Whenever I move to a new place, it's the first thing I post up in my new bedroom. That's how I know I've settled in. Home is where the Teen Wolf poster is. I should needlepoint that on a pillow. Here's a picture of me in front of it:

Look what a cute couple we'd make

Sassy! And, here's the video I shot of him playing "Johnny B. Goode" last Saturday night which has already been featured on the Huffington Post, the Washington Post, TMZ, the Sun, Fox News, ABC News, IFC, The Daily What and more.




HOW COOL WAS THAT VIDEO? So cool, right? Because Michael was such a big part of my life during my formative years and because I'm so inspired by his work, I plan to partner with Team Fox and his foundation to help raise money for Parkinson's research. It's gonna be awesome. So stay tuned for updates because with our help, we can make a difference!

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When He Talks My Ear Off About His Ex-Girlfriend And Says "You Don't Mind That I'm Telling You All This?" And I Shrug Because I'm Not Attracted To Him And I Don't Give A Shit

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Cheat Sheet: Wanna Know What To Wear On Our First Date?

Copy EVERYTHING about Ryan Adam's look in this clip. Everything, down to the Converse sneakers. You want me to squeeze your thigh under the table while we wait for our dessert? Want me to text my friends gushy updates while you leave to take a leak? Dress like you're running five minutes late to your first day TA'ing a film theory class at an Ivy League university. As Mr. Sheen would say, "Duh!" It's so easy. Really.



[Previously: Tip Our Hats: Guys That Listen To Ryan Adams]

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My Crush On Him May Be Dead

I know I just said that my crush on him was dead and gone, but there is always the possibility of hooking up with him in the future. Maybe it'll be next week or next month or next year, but it can't be ruled out.

And, right after we have our first kiss, I'll whisper in his ear, "I used to have the biggest crush on you."

And, he'll be like, "No way!"

And, I'll be like "yes!":

 

Then, I'll shrug like:

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Just Between Us, His New Girl Seems Like A Better Fit For Him

Dude, they're perfect for each other

Normally, I can't imagine an ex finding happiness with anyone but me, but this time it's different. My attitude has changed. This might be the first sign of maturity (gulp), but I can admit that his new girl is a better match for him than I ever was.

Reading through a few dozen of her tweets, I've been able to deduce that she:

• loves fast food
• smokes cigarettes
• works at a bar
• swears a lot
• spells words wrong all the time

These are the exact issues I had with dating him. So, it fills my heart with joy that he's managed to find love in her (presumably) heavily tattooed arms. THEY ARE A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN! This girl is like his other half. My ex LOVES McDonalds (gross) and he's a huge smoker AND a total lush. They are perfect for one another. They probably smoke up a storm all the time, surrounded by crumpled Arby's bags and empty, dented PBR cans. This is clearly his dream girl. Bravo, you guys.

You can't see me, but I'm doing a slow clap over here. I'm so happy for them! Truly.

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R.I.P. My Crush On Him

Well, we had a good run there, crush-wise. For a while there I was on top of the world, finding him endlessly fascinating. Sure, we weathered some storms, like the Ignoring Me on the Street Fiasco of 2010 and the Nothing To Talk About In A Loud Bar Disaster of January 2011. But I still thought we'd make it, as crusher and crushee. I mean, we've lasted this long so why not? 

I used to do this when I'd get ready to go out: I'd look in the mirror and think, "What if I run into him tonight? Am I happy with this dress?" Then I'd shake my head no and toss on a lower-cut dress that showed off my rack better. He'd get in my head like that, as a good crush should. 

But lately, I don't feel that spark. When he uploads a new picture, I don't even click on it to silently judge him and the girl he has his arm around. It's not in me anymore! I know, NO ONE is more surprised than me that it's come to this. After too many months of him not making a move, it's time for me and my low-cut dresses to move on to greener, more receptive pastures.

R.I.P. My Crush. Donations can be made to my Sipping White Wine Like A Classy Lady fund (because now I don't have to get trashed to work up the courage to talk to him.)

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Real Talk: This Stupid Date Is Taking Too Long To Plan

Isn't there a quicker way to do this?

Maybe I'm a weirdo, but I don't wanna wait more than a week from the idea of a date with a human man to the execution of said date with the same human man. Any longer and I can feel my interest dwindle substantially.

The worst offender was this guy who--no joke--took two months to get his shit together to follow through on planning our magical first date. He had this habit of calling me to say that he was going to call me to plan it. He did that FOUR TIMES! Do you realize what that means? It means that he had to be mentally prepared to call my number and make sure that he was in a quiet spot with adequate cell reception FOUR TIMES. That's an egregious volume of date-planning related cold calls! It's too many.

Let me impress upon you how stupid this was: Cartons of milk had already spoiled in the time in took for him to pull the first-date trigger. Eight episodes of a Showtime Original program had been aired in the time it took to figure out which night we were going to grab a fucking drink. New Employees of the Month had been chosen at the local Target in that time. It was madness!

By the time our first date rolled around with all of its ridiculous buildup, I had forgotten why I wanted to go out with him in the first place. Really, it's best to pounce sooner rather than later on these kinds of things when both my enthusiasm and his picture in my mind are still fresh.

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Real Talk: His Ex Is Awesome

From Jessica, who hates to admit it, but his ex seems pretty rad.

I love some harmless ex-girlfriend bashing. Sorry, but it can make me feel better sometimes. It's easy when there's clear cut reason that they broke up, i.e. his ex was a total bitch or just a straight-up loser. But sometimes it's a little jarring when his ex-gf is cool. And no matter how hard you try, you can't find anything wrong with her. And it sucks!

I admit it's shallow but I like to think that my boy is taking a step up in the dating pool by dating me. Sure, I can tell myself he's with me now because he likes me more. I'm funny, smart, and pretty damn cute! I win! Right? Sometimes it doesn't really feel that way.

I'm not a particularly jealous person, but damn, his ex-gf is freaking awesome. She's a scuba diving instructor. She saved orphans in Uganda. She ran two dozen marathons in one month. She's trained wild horses. She models on the side but donates all her earnings to animal shelters. She was on the production staff for Tron. Me? Well let's see....I drank too much at an office happy hour last week and puked in my cubicle.

My one consolation is that she's a demon who cheated on him, right? Wrong. "They just weren't meant to be" and had an amicable split. Well at least we can hate her for her "holier than thou" attitude, right? Wrong. She's actually super sweet. And funny. What the fuck. I'm begging her to do something bitchy. Kick a kitten or something so I can have a reason to hate her already.

I have to keep my insecurities in check and take it as a compliment that he's dating me after her. Obviously there must be something awesome and special about me that he sees. But I really wish she would trip a grandmom or shove a poor kid down a slide a la A Christmas Story. It would just make me feel better!

This sort of happened to me a while ago, but it was with my ex's new girl. I was still upset about our breakup and it was doubly upsetting to see him find love so quickly. I had a few friends in common with the new girl and all I'd hear about was how amazing she was and how much we'd get along if only we met. I was like, "FUCK THAT! I never want to meet her." I avoided them at all costs. If I heard that they'd be at a party, I wouldn't go. If I heard that they were going to see a band play, I'd refuse to attend the show. It was horrible.

I'd been avoiding them for about a year when my friend invited me to go to a dinner party with him. After he picked me up, I asked who else was gonna be there and he said her name followed quickly with, "It's not a big deal. Honestly, it'll be fine." I tried to keep my panic in check. As soon as we walked into the party, she gave me a warm hug. She gushed about how excited she was for us to finally meet. Guys, I cannot tell you how much that meant to me. She was clearly the bigger person here and I'll never forget how welcome she made me feel. All of my anxiety about her instantly evaporated. It's funny; I don't talk to the guy anymore, but I'm still friends with her! Some girls are just unhateable. That's science.

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Amatuer Hour: I Snooped On An Ex's Profile And Now I'm In A Crummy Mood

Call the wahmbulance 'cause I'm bummed out. After rifling through his online presence for roughly five minutes, I want to not only stab my computer but toss myself on my bed and have a good cry like a dramatic pre-teen who's parents won't let her stay out 'til midnight even though all of her friends can. This happens every few months when my curiosity takes over (and we all know that curiosity killed the cat.)

Am I overreacting? Yes.
Is this the end of the world? No.
Do I feel like shit about seeing him happy without me in his life? Yes.
Am I being a big baby? Yes.
Is my lower lip wobbling? Yes.
WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? I'm not sure.
Am I gonna be okay in the near future? That's up to you.

If you have any suggestions about what would cheer me up, kindly leave 'em in the comments. Thanks, duders. I owe you one!

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I Am Submitting A Petition For My Ex To Get A Bad Haircut

Hey guys, will you sign this? It's a petition to force my ex to get a terrible haircut. I feel like if he had a fucked up 'do, it'd really help me get over him quicker. I'm almost there. I'm on the cusp of getting over him, but I feel that a bad haircut would totally decimate any lingering attraction I have to him.

Maybe he could get an Ashley Shaeffer-esque coif. It'd look like a slice of angel cake was giving his head a blowjay. Gross, right? 

If he had a furry flattop like Simon Cowell, it'd look like an angry badger was taking a dump on his skull. Ewwww.

Or, if he looked like the crazy evangelical guy in Contact, I'm sure I'd never daydream about smelling his neck again. If anything, I'd want a restraining order! He looks like Nelson's understudy. No thank you.

If I forced his barber to make his hair look like an onion loaf made out of cotton candy, I could finally tell him that he's fired from being in my brain.

 
See? A stupid haircut could really make all the difference here. It's up to you guys to make this happen.

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Real Talk: A Dude's Take On Girls' Halloween Costumes

Granted, he's not a girl, but we admire
Matt Lauer's commitment to his costume

Getting your Halloween costume together is always a somewhat agonizing process. Even for a guy like me who LOVES Halloween, I have to admit that sometimes the whole thing can be overwhelming. That being said, if you do the right costume the right way, you can be the hit of the party.

Anna and I bumped into each other this weekend in Philly and she asked me for a guy's perspective on what kind of costume guys like to see. I told her I'd make a post about it. Now, keep in mind that you should do a costume that makes YOU happy and fuck what stupid boys think, but just in case you care about my opinion, here goes:

1. If your costume idea is ambitious, go all out.
If you're going to be Lady Gaga, don't half-ass it. You're the one who chose the bold costume, now its your responsibility to go ALL OUT. It's all about the details. Is it gonna cost you an extra $20 to get your hair done with the Diet Coke can curlers? Who cares? You're Lady Gaga. DO IT.

2. If your costume is thrown together at the last minute, you better make it funny.
Okay, if you're going to toss a costume together on Friday afternoon with a quick trip to the thrift store, just make sure you've got a good idea behind it. No one wants to see another shitty zombie. One of my favorite cheap/easy costume ideas is to dress up like someone in your friend group. Pick someone with an identifiable style and mimic their look exactly. Unless it's totally unflattering, your friend will be confused and slightly honored.

3. Getting sexy?
This is a controversial Halloween topic, but you should keep in mind that as long as Halloween exists, there will be girls who use Halloween to dress in a ridiculously over-the-top sexy outfits. And I say, why the hell not? Why can't a normal girl have one day a year to let loose and wear something totally over the top? Now, there's always going to be your garden variety sorority girls rocking "sexy butterfly" or "sexy french maid." Bor-ring. If you're going to go sexy, be creative. Make it a part of your costume, or make it absolutely ridiculous. Who could say no to a sexy Chewbacca or sexy Hermione? Not this guy.

4. Topical, but not TOO topical.
Look, let's get right to the point: there's going to be 10,000 Antoine Dodsons roaming your city this Saturday. Not to mention armies of Old Spice guys and Chilean miners. If you're going to go topical, you need to either be SUPER ahead of the curve and anticipate this week's next huge meme (not easy to do) or you can keep it simple and keep things old school. Be a LOLcat. Be Friendster. I dunno, you'll know when you find it.

5. Girls, no beards.
I realize this is a bit specific, but it freaks me out. If your costume calls for painting facial hair or a five-o-clock shadow on your face, DON'T DO IT! You'll meet a new guy on Halloween, and then later, when you start dating a few months from now, his mind will always flash back to that creepy paint beard on your face and it will haunt him for the rest of my life. Not that this actually happened in real life. Ya know, just hypothetically speaking.

6. Nerd OUT.
Here's my final and most important rule. This is your one day to nerd out, so make the most of it. If you're way into Star Trek, you go right on ahead and be Tasha Yar. If you've always wanted to crossdress as David Bowie in Labyrinth, don't let me stop you. If you're dressed up in something that you love and you're having a great time, you're bound to meet that fellow nerd who is going to stop dead in his tracks when he sees your epic costume. He's going to fall in love right there. I guarantee it.*

*Results may vary.

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Don't Take This The Wrong Way, But Our Kids Would Be Straight-Up Stupid

Hmmm. How do I say this. He's a few sandwiches short of a picnic, if you know what I mean. His suggestions never make sense. His reasoning seems cloudy. And, he gets mad when I use "big words" that he says he doesn't understand. I look into his eyes and it seems like the lights are on, but no one's home.

I can overlook these things because he wears cool jeans and has nice hair, but then I think about what would happen if, god forbid, I were to get pregnant by him. That's when I realized that I couldn't risk it because our kids would make Ralph Wiggum look like Aristotle. They'd be the kids in the back of the classroom eating paste and drooling, decked out in helmets and child leashes. The thought of my gene pool swirling with his makes me terrified for humanity's future. I feel like this is some sort of Terminator plotline waiting to happen.

This isn't a random guy or a snap decision; I've known him since high school. And, he was kinda stupid in high school too. I'm not elitist and I don't care the he's not academically inclined, but I can't ignore it at the same time. Nope. Best to just step away and turn him down. It's for the best.

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I'd Like To Take This Time To Thank Him For Not Tucking His Shirt In Tonight

Let's face it: he's got a bit of a beer belly goin' on. No big whoop. I kinda dig it, to be honest. Especially with this fall weather. He's gonna be sooooo snuggleable come cider-sipping time. However, come fancy clothes-time, I was a little concerned that he was gonna do a tuck in. That would not only accentuate his beer belly, but it would also make him look more Peter Griffin-esque.  I'm gonna use Seth Rogen pre-Green Hornet training to illustrate my point here.

Tucked and belted

He still looks handsome, but you see what I mean, right? So, it pleased me to see him stroll up to me, untucked.

Untucked and foxy

Ah, a clean silhouette! Well done, my dear. A+. Gold star.

I should just re-name this site Husky Fashion Tips.

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Real Talk: I Will Chalk My Crush On Him Up To Prison Conditions

Keanu was definitely the hottest guy on the bus

Dear Sir,

I've given this issue some thought and I've come to the conclusion that my intense crush on you was due to the fact that we were together in close quarters. I can honestly say of the four guys we traveled with for the past week, you were the hottest one of the group. Definitely. Hands down.

Granted two of the guys were married and one guy was gay, but out of those odds, you did emerge as the most desirable candidate for me to crush on. Congrats!

Now that we're back, I realize that my feelings for you were shallow and fleeting. After doing one Google search for your name during a light stalking session, I realized that my heart wasn't in it. I didn't care about reading your tweets or skimming through your photo blog. I can confidently say that my crush on you seemed to be based on lack of other options coupled with the thrill of being in a new town.

Thanks for being my crush for one week. And, oh, what a great week it was. I wish you the best in all of your future endeavors. It was fun while it lasted.

Warmly,
Shmitten Kitten

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Real Talk: You Aren't My Ex

The first time he introduced me as his ex to his friends, I thought, "That's weird. I was never his girlfriend." Then, he did it again when he introduced me to the new girl he's seeing. Clearly, he has convinced himself that I'm his ex-girlfriend out of nowhere.

Not to split dating hairs here, but I was never his ex and it irritates me to watch him rewrite my dating history so flagrantly. Germany didn't win World War II, Russia didn't land on the moon first, and I never thought of him as my boyfriend. You can't fuck with historical facts! What's next, is he going to tell me dinosaurs never existed? Or, that Gigli was a good movie? It's madness!

I want to leave this letter under the windshield wiper of his car:

Dear Sir,

(Kim) Deal with it: I'm not your ex!

I'm sorry to break it to you, but you are not my ex. Do you know what the word "ex" means? It's shorthand for either EX-BOYFRIEND or EX-GIRLFRIEND. You were never my boyfriend and I certainly was never your girlfriend! We barely dated. We saw each other for roughly three weeks; that doesn't magically make me your ex-girlfriend. You know why?

A: We went on less than five dates.
B: I never met any of your friends during those dates.
C: I never met any of your family members.
D: I never changed an online relationship status to reflect our courtship.
E: I never called you my boyfriend. We were two adults going out, sharing meals, and smooching. THAT'S IT!

Therefore, please stop telling everyone that I'm your ex because it's not true. Just say that I'm your friend. If you HAVE to communicate to someone that we went out in public together on almost five occasions, just say that we were seeing each other. Cool?

Signed,
Shmitten Kitten

I'm not sure why he's so interested in being my ex anyway. There aren't any perks being in that club. It's not like he gets coupons to local establishments or a free sub at Subway. Really, it's no big whoop.

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Be Honest: You Got That Shirt For Free, Didn't You?

It's bright blue and has some lame graphic swiped from an ancient clip art folder printed on the front. And, there's so much text crammed in on the back that it's giving me a headache trying to figure out what kind of event he attended.  He must have gotten that shirt for free. There's no way he paid money for it.

Was it a door prize at a company picnic? Did he get it in a tote bag at a convention? Was it shot to him from a t-shirt cannon at a company retreat? That shirt is the Khloe Kardashian of the shirt world; it's just not as hot as the other options available.

Whenever I get free t-shirts, they are usually too boxy and way too big so they get tossed into the trash bin straight away. Besides, I hate wearing labels or any kind of text on my clothes. But, strangely, he seems to not only delight in the free shirt, but actually wears them out in his leisure time. Clearly, he is the target demographic for free shirts.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it's not a tank top or a polo with the collar popped, but as far as lame t-shirts go, this guy seems to choose the most lamest of them all. Is it too much to ask for just a plain piece of cloth free of bullshit to clothe his chest? Sometimes, I think that it is.

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I'm Gonna Be Honest Here: I Don't Remember What You Look Like

As I'm watiting for you to arrive to our first date, I gotta be honest, I have no idea what you look like. First, let's start with the things that I DO remember:

• Meeting you last weekend. 
• Dirty dancing with you on stage behind a speaker (yikes!)
• Exchanging numbers and promising that we'd hang out soon

Here's what I remember about you:

• You had dark hair
• You were wearing a t-shirt
• You definitely were wearing shoes
• Oh, and you had eyebrows

THAT'S IT! That's the composite I'm working with.

I was pretty surprised that you called in the first place. For some reason, I agreed to meet you here before it dawned on me that the only thing I know about you is that you are a male under 40. I have a feeling that you were cute, but I really can't explain why that feeling is there. For what it's worth, your voice sounded hot on the phone.

As every guy files into the restaurant, I squint my eyes wondering if that's the one. What should I do? Go up and ask, "Are you my date because I don't remember any physical characters that he possesses?"

Wait, is that you? No, I think you were shorter. Honestly, I have no freakin' clue what you look like. *sips drink and looks around the restaurant*

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Real Talk: I Don't Like Your Band

Okay, I love saying it: I'm dating the lead singer of a band. I feel like I should throw on a fur coat and a hippy dippy headband and jam to "Tiny Dancer" like it was written just for me. I want to watch you from the stage wings at every show and sing along to every song and smile back at you when you play my favorite one.

There's just one problem: I can't stand your music.

I don't know if it's the lyrics (they're incomprehensible) or the tunes (or lack thereof), but your band makes Nickelback sound like the freaking Rolling Stones. I realize singing your own songs is a way of expressing yourself, but before you told me who inspired this song, I thought it was about HOV lanes and possibly buying printer cartridges at Office Depot. This chicken scratch is inspired by me? It's like the musical equivalent of hieroglyphics except I have a better chance of decoding ancient Egyptian symbols than discerning what the hell you're screaming about in this song.

And your voice is so lovely when you're singing along to the Beatles in the car. Why does it sound like you're possessed by a muppet when you're on stage? I'm half-expecting to look up at the balcony and see two old dudes heckling you about this awful music. I hope that a giant hook pops out from backstage and pulls you off so Kermit can introduce the guy who throws boomerang fish. I'd watch that over your band any day of the week.

Also, what do you expect me to tell my family when they ask what's the name of your band? My grandma found your MySpace page and all week she's been asking at a LOUD VOLUME where you got the name "Hot Carl & the Rusty Trombones" from. I finally told her you changed your name to Radiohead. She was less curious about that one.

I thought dating the lead singer of a band would be glamorous but it's been torture. I'm not sure this is going to work out. Oh well, there are plenty of other muppets in the sea.

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