On Valentines Day, I got a text at 7:54 pm from an unknown number that read as follows:

‘Uhm do u mind going to the lab with me tomorrow?’

It’s the most romantic Valentine’s Day text I’ve ever gotten. Unfortunately I knew the truth. Some lucky person was sent an invitation to have a good time in in either a chemistry, film, or meth lab, and this lucky person wasn’t me. Whoever sent this text had the wrong number. Being a mature adult, I decided to ignore it, figuring that the sender would soon realize the error.

The next night, around the same time, I got another text from the same number. This time, the text had a riveting question:

‘You know what?’

I was curious. I replied:

‘What?’

Two minutes later, I got my answer.

‘You’re a little hoe bag.’

It seemed so odd. This person, whom I’d never met, seemed to know everything about me. I am a little hoe bag. I replied.

‘Oh, I know, right!?!’

Five minutes later she wrote back.

‘Lol jk you little SPUD (;’

And there it started. My first friendship entirely communicated through text message. I had a textmate. And I was her little spud (I was now figuring, after referring to me as a hoe bag and a SPUD, that my textmate was female).

I wasn’t sure when I would hear from my textmate again. It didn’t take long.

‘Tmdrtmdrtmdr! I have a lot of venting to do!‘ – 2/16/12, 6:49 am.

6:49….. A.M. And since this was from an 847 area code I assumed that this person was texting from a suburb of Chicago, meaning that she sent this at 5:49 A.M. Who the hell has the energy to vent at 5:49 A.M.? I was way too tired to gain the strength to text from my 1974 Motorola Razor Phone, so I ignored it and went back to sleep, thinking that I should probably end this relationship as I dozed off.

‘So you know how I told you about Jill’s little crush Jon who messaged me?’ – 2/16/12 6:36 pm.

I got this about a half-hour after getting home from work, nearly 12 hours after she woke me up looking to do some pre-dawn venting. I told the gf what she texted me, and she said, ‘ok, I think it’s time to tell her she has the wrong number.’ She was right. This was enough. So I texted her back.

‘What about it?’

I’m sorry, but before I ended this relationship, I really wanted to know what happened with Jill’s crush Jon. It sounded like it was going to be juicy!

‘She messaged him trying to have a convo and he asked why she messaged him. lol.’

SCANDALOUS! Gossip to the max!

But seriously, that was the most disappointing response ever. I was hoping for, ‘he brought a gun to school,’ ‘he cut off his weenie in shop class,’ or ‘he got Mrs. Levins pregnant!’ Instead, I got word that Jon doesn’t know who Jill is. This gossip sucked, and I let her know it.

‘No way!! Really? ROTFLMAO!!’ (In teen talk, that translates to, ‘No way! Really? That is so funny that I am literally rolling on the floor, laughing my ass off!’)

I couldn’t stop. I’m not sure why. I don’t have unlimited texting, and at the rate that this teenage girl (I was now assuming that this girl was a teenager) was sending me messages, I would soon need to get a second job to cover my phone bill. She immediately got back to me.

‘Silly bo billy.’

Yeah, definitely a teenage girl.

The next day was Friday, and I was in great spirits because we were heading into a three day weekend, meaning an extra night of my weekend where I could drink heavily and regret that the fact that I didn’t go outside the entire day. While still at work, about 15 minutes before leaving for the weekend, I got a frantic message from my textmate.

‘Oh dear god help me, I might of left your note in Bridget Maloney’s locker!’

Previous texts were casual, but now she was having a crisis. It was time to be an adult and help her through this.

‘Baloney Maloney??? It guess it’s ok.’

I was a little nervous about this one. Not because I was now officially being creepy, but because whomever I was pretending to be had now officially referred to Bridget Maloney as Baloney Maloney. I might have just unintentionally gotten a middle school girls’ ass kicked, especially if Bridget Maloney was large and in deserving of the nickname Baloney. While thinking this, I got a response.

‘It’s not okay!’

It was time for this to end…

‘Why not?’

… after I figured out why it wasn’t okay.

‘Oh idk, mentioned jspat, jimmy, johnny, phil, cole, nbd.’ (In teen talk, I think that means ‘Oh I don’t know, I only mentioned J-Spat, Jimmy and Johnny, Phil, Cole! Everyone! No big deal’ (I’m not sure if that no big deal was sarcasm or not. Unfortunately it’s tough to portray sarcasm in text)).

At this point I was done entertaining this girl. If I was getting some juicy gossip I’d be willing to go on, but she had nothing. Her teenage life was more depressing than my adult life. I needed to get out of this. But how? I didn’t want to let her know that she had been texting a 30-year-old man for the last few days. It might embarass her, and also might lead to my arrest. After giving it some thought I texted her back.

‘I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number. I thought I’ve been texting my niece this whole time.’

Believable? I don’t know, I don’t have a niece. But if I did, I would refer to all of her friends with the last name of Maloney as Baloney Maloney, so maybe it wasn’t bad. She got back to me about an hour later.

‘Oh, haha! It’s ok, sorry about the mix up!’

And that’s how the greatest friendship I ever had ended.

So in a cheap but necessary ploy to get more hits on my website, I’m going to have to give what readers want.

Lindsay Lohan recently did a photo shoot for Playboy, and the issue is supposed to hit filthy newstands next week. I just read that the photos were leaked to the internet, and after doing some research I was able to locate the Lohan picture that everyone on the internet wants to see. So although I try to keep this website somewhat appropriate, I have to do this. I hope you’ll understand.

5…….

4…….

3…….

2……

1…….

…I think a little bit of both.

]]> http://seanssabbatical.com/old-man-black-eye/feed 0 http://seanssabbatical.com/detroit-lions-fans-petition-against-a-thanksgiving-nickleback-half-time-performance-forgetting-what-it-has-been-like-to-watch-detroit-lions-football-on-thanksgiving http://seanssabbatical.com/detroit-lions-fans-petition-against-a-thanksgiving-nickleback-half-time-performance-forgetting-what-it-has-been-like-to-watch-detroit-lions-football-on-thanksgiving#comments Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:21:27 +0000 Sean Patrick http://seanssabbatical.com/?p=3501 Detroit Lions’ fans recently made national news when they petitioned to have their Thanksgiving half-time show performance by Nickleback canceled.

“This is a nationally televised game. We don’t want Nickleback doing the half-time show. It would ruin Detroit’s reputation!”

While it is impossible for the reputation of America’s Yeast Infection to get any worse, Detroit’s fan base is adamant that a Nickleback performance would only worsen a game that for decades has caused more Thanksgiving naps than tryptophan. Nickleback lead singer Chad Kroeger was shocked to hear the news.

“Detroit has a football team?”

The Lions, whose last playoff win came hours after Lincoln’s signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, have shocked the football world by starting the season 6-2. Just three years after failing to win a regular season game, this fast start has left Lions fans with a sense of pride that they haven’t felt since 8 Mile brought home an Oscar for Best Original Song. But America isn’t ready to embrace Lions football.

Because there are no quality television programs airing on the anniversary of when the pilgrims started to realize that they didn’t like diversity, year after year Americans have been forced to watch Lions football on Thanksgiving day. The game has proven to be more painful than the smallpox epidemic that was soon to come to half of the attendees at the first Thanksgiving dinner. Yet Detroit fans think that having Nickleback perform would be an insult.

Regardless of their recent success, over the years Detroit Lions football has ruined more Thanksgiving dinners than teenage pregnancy announcements, while Nickleback music has only dared us to feel emotions that we never even knew we had.

Compare the two, and VOTE FOR THEM at 

http://www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entry/150930

First off, because the consensus was that it made young and middle-aged men more attractive, mustaches were popular in the 80s.* So sporting a mustache now is like wearing a vintage 80’s t-shirt, only the vintage 80’s t-shirt reeks of Root Beer Schnapps and makes you look like a child molester. Gang members have proven that wearing throwback paraphernalia is cool (go Washington Bullets!), and the mustache is the throwback jersey of the face.

Another great thing about the mustache is that it’s like having a mullet on your face. There’s no doubt that the mullet is gross. But when you see someone above the Mason-Dixon Line with a mullet, you know they are probably awesome.** The same is true with the mustache. Wearing one around lets the world knows that you are willing to sacrifice your appearance to be hilarious, and not many people aside from Carrot Top and Sinead O’Connor are willing to do that.

The mustache beings us back to simpler times, when economic problems were adorable, Russians were intimidating, and elected officials were not criticized about their brain damage. So this Saturday I will wear my repulsive female-repellant mustache with pride. And then the next morning I’ll wake up and shave it so I can stop smelling the all the puke that is caught in there.

* This is no longer the case. Now the mustache is considered as appealing as acne scars and glass eyeballs.

**If a person below the Mason-Dixon Line has a mullet, it means that they have at least two swastika tattoos and shouldn’t be trusted on Spring Break trips.

To make it easier for these women to separate the studs from the duds, below are some sentences that will never come out of the mouth of Mr. Right. 

Things Mr. Right Will Never Say

I cant decide if I love my grandma or if I’m in love with my grandma.

The women’s bathroom here isn’t as nice as the one at Applebees.

Do you think these track marks are sexy?

You look familiar. Have you done any foot fetish pornography?

You remind me of my missing ex-girlfriend.

You’re lucky. It’s pretty rare to see me without puss coming out of my chin.

 I don’t get why dog bones are only for dogs.

Imagine this: here I am, fourteen years old, just having graduated eighth grade, with blood stained hands and a decapitated body lying at my feet. It was like something out of a dream… but it was real… and I did it… that was fifteen years ago…. so to answer your question, it’s been fifteen years since I last visited Pittsburgh.

To be honest, I believe Von der Sloot.

I love kids. Sometimes I’ll park my car outside of a daycare center and watch them for hours.

You’d be surprised… this trench coat can hide more weapons than you’d think.

Tell me about it. I almost strangled my sister to death for reading my diary. True story. 

Do you ever lose all concept of reality and find yourself making out with one of your cousins?

I like you… so you better get out of here. I’m about to do something that’ll make headline news. (** Note – Take his advice and leave**)

I would have finished college, but my parents forced me to come home during my last semester after I contracted gonorrhea of the face.

So after finding out that prostitution wasn’t 100% legal in Las Vegas, I just moved back home.   

That’s not a pitchfork, it’s a swastika. My tattoo artist just sucks.

This necklace? It’s my baby teeth….  just kidding! They’re not my baby teeth. That would be weird.

Me? I’m a photographer for National Geographic. (**Note- Stay away from this guy because he’s a liar**)

Of course I look familiar, I’m your brother. How much have you been drinking?

Me at the Beginning of November

Me at the Beginning of January

But lets be honest… that gym membership that you got so you can accomplish your New Year’s Resolution of losing weight will be utilized in January, somewhat dabbled with in February, and completely ignored by March. Come June that gym membership, along with the adult website you’ve been subscribed to since college, does nothing for you but make you feel bad about yourself while taking $30 out of your bank account every first of the month.

Being unable to accomplish the miniscule goals you made after you embarrassed yourself at your ex-girlfriend’s New Years party is demoralizing. For that reason, I’ve come up with more realistic New year’s Resolutions you can make that will make you feel good about yourself this year (which we’ll all need since the Miyans and John Cusak have predicted we will all die in 2012). 

Avoid Eye Contact With Greenpeace Employees – You wont regret this one. You look in their direction for one moment and before you know it they are lecturing you about how bad the toilet paper you use is just because it’s made out of tortured rhino feet (I use the tough stuff). Avoid eye contact with these guilt-trippers and continue planning your Hummer road trip. 

At The Very Least, Entertain the Idea of Showering Everyday – No American showers everyday. It’s the only thing we do that makes us feel European. Therefore, a resolution where you vow to shower every single day of the year is ridiculous. But by merely entertaining the idea of showering, you have done everything you said you would at the beginning of the year.

Yell at a Child At Least Once a Week – You’d be surprised on how long you can live by doing this.

Stop Watching Movies About Exorcism – This shouldn’t be a hard thing to do, and if it is, then you’re probably starting to worry everyone around you. Stop giving these creepy films your hard earned money. Please. I’m begging you. The more people who do this, the less I’ll have to feel terrified during the coming attractions everytime I see a non-Pixar film at the theatre.

Begin Lying About Yourself More – Nobody likes the real you. If they did, you wouldn’t have to make a New Year’s Resolution. You think Brad Pitt has a New Year’s Resolution? Of Course not. What would it even be? Stop having abs? Start making up lies about yourself. Tell your neighbor that you’re sleeping with a supermodel that lives in Denmark. Tell your coworkers that you can dunk a basketball. Tell your parents that you dunked a basketball on your Denmarkian supermodel girlfriend. As soon as people start to see this change in you, you’ll never have to make a resolution ever again. Make sense? Trust me, it did.

A couple nights ago, my aunt rushed into the hospital at about 10 p.m. to see my Grandpa John. She heard that his days were running short, so she drove from three hours away to see him. She came into the hospital with my uncle, and as soon as they got to the ICU, they had a doctor direct them to the dark room where my Grandpa John was resting. By this time they knew that he, at most, had days to live. 

When she got to his room, she found him there lying peacefully. She went up to him with all the love in the world and told him that she loved him. She kissed him on the forehead and stroked his hair as he laid there quietly. Her husband, my uncle, came in soon after and hugged him.

“I love you grandpa,” he said.

“I love you too,” he replied. 

As my aunt and uncle stayed there embracing him, my grandpa used all of his energy to utter these words:

“They put a stint in my neck. My heart should be OK. I’ll be able to leave tomorrow.”

…

This was unexpected great news!!!

…..

…..

…except…..

….Grandpa John wasn’t having heart problems….

…after hearing this, both my aunt and uncle looked at my grandpa. It was dark, but from what they could see, something seemed weird…

….

…this wasn’t Grandpa John…

Immediately they both realized that the man they had kissed, hugged, and told that they loved was not my grandfather. It was the man in the room next to my grandpa’s, who looked almost exactly like him.

Fake-grandpa asked for a nurse, and my aunt and uncle told him that they would find one as they rushed out of the room.

The next day this stranger’s son asked my aunt:

“Did you kiss my dad last night?”

My aunt could only reply, “yes.”

My grandpa passed away last night. He was a great man with a greater sense of humor, and I, along with everyone who knew him, will always miss him. His laugh was beautiful, and his patience and happiness for life is something I will always hope to possess. My Grandpa John was simply great man.

Thank you grandpa. We love you.