While You Were At Work

I thought about trying to “prestige” the game by changing all my pics to photos of Richard, but the whole thing has gotten too boring.

Every attractive photo has the same value as one Delta Skymile. You have to sift through 50,000 pics to earn the sexual equivalent of a trip to Denver, and redeeming them will take another few hours of lobbing conversational alley-oops at some dumbo to convince her she has a rapport with you.

Wasn’t the whole point of the app to facilitate casual, semi-anonymous sex via cheaper, easier means than going out to a bar? Fucking straight people suck at everything. 

The gays had Grindr, which was genius. Then they had Blendr, which was an even more genius app designed to trick straight guys into thinking they were messaging with girls, who were actually just gay dudes fishing for dick pics.

I need to find a new way to amuse myself.

I think I’m going to start fucking with the “missed connections” section of Craigslist. I’ll reply to posts that describe guys matching my general description; when we meet and I turn out to be the wrong guy, I’ll just smile and be charming and say something about how I believe in astrology.

Sure they’ll probably all be haggard, but I bet there are some Five Diamond weirdos on there with crazy stories.

If I go missing, have the police check my email for clues. On second thought, just smash my computer to pieces and destroy everything. I’d rather die in a cat lady’s basement than have my Firefox history revealed.

This weekend Richard told MP and I that he’d received a naughty photo from a woman, who was attempting to lure him into a sexual rendezvous.

Naturally this prompted a series of questions including whether the woman was retarded, and if Richard had ever sent “Favre style dick pics” to a lady. He hasn’t. I find that surprising considering the times we live in.

To show Richard how easy it is, and to punish him for withholding the identity of the woman in his story, I posted this ad on Craigslist M4M casual encounters.

If you don’t spend a lot of time trawling for NSA sex on the internet, I can assure you this is the kind of offer that gets attention.

You see, Richard? Anyone can do it.

We all missed you, Richard. Except for MP, he relishes the hours of your absence. That’s why I wanted it to be special when we reunited.

Phase One

Over the past two weeks, I’ve spent a shamefully unproductive number of hours adding all of your Los Angeles area, female friends to a seemingly identical second Facebook profile (regular readers will remember Pumpkin Richard, your wily nemesis).

Phase Two

I updated the new Facebook profile’s status

This is a pretty basic spy move for badasses like me and Gene Hackman. Finger your pursuer as the double agent before he can finger you. It’s also good advice, sexually.

Please note the flourish of signature Richard malaprop.

Phase Three

With the original Richard disavowed and the eyes of the internet upon us, there was only one thing left to do…

SIGN YOU UP FOR BANG WITH FRIENDS AND MAKE THE RESULTS PUBLIC!!!

Happy belated Valentine’s Day, buddy. Welcome home.

Richard, you are forever my brother’s keeper. My conscience. My guiding light.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. And while lots of couples celebrated with chocolates and flowers, I decided to mark the occasion by posting these sex offender warnings with Richard’s picture around the neighborhood (Melrose Elementary pictured below).

I’m just like Channing Tatum in The Vow, except that I made a solemn promise to torment Richard through sickness and health.

Richard is deeply paranoid that the IT department at his job monitors all of his email exchanges and IM conversations. After every off color remark sent to him, Richard responds with “not appropriate” in the belief that his corporate masters will see he wasn’t complicit in the use of foul language, racy humor, or proper syntax and grammar; all of which he omits from his own communications.

Historically I’ve tapped this fear as a means for extortion, threatening to email him photos from my library of homemade pornography under the subject line “Per your request” until he agrees to my demands. Lately, however, I’ve simply found his cowardice to be exhausting.

To prove to Richard that nobody is paying attention to him, I decided to sign him up for a number of white power mailing lists and discussion forums using his work email address. When the week ends without a call from the HR department, we’ll know I was right. On the off chance that he does get in trouble, I’ll apologize by posting the formal (hilarious) letter of termination as a public mea culpa.

While getting drunk last Thursday morning, I was overwhelmed with hunger. Richard had been on vacation or “holiday,” as he calls it, for nearly two weeks and the fridge was empty. Hoping to find some nuts or a toblerone, I went foraging in his room where I stumbled upon A PILE OF UNOPENED PRESENTS!

WTF? How was this possible that I received only one gift in the form of a houseplant (much needed and appreciated, and pictured below), while Richard got so many presents that he didn’t even bother to open them all?!

Further investigation uncovered that some of the presents WEREN’T EVEN FROM THIS CHRISTMAS. There were unopened birthday gifts, and cards from his skate shop wishing him an “X-treme X-mas 2010!”

And so it was out of drunken spite, jealousy, and hunger that I decided to open all of Richard’s Christmas presents.

If I can be clear on only one thing in this post, let it be this:

Richard doesn’t respect his friends enough to open their thoughtful gifts. I, on the other hand, respect them enough to open their gifts even when they weren’t intended for me.