While You Were At Work

Imagine the John Ritter in Problem Child. Now imagine that instead of an adopted son, he had two 30-year old roommates. Now imagine one of them had a blog.
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Posts tagged "Richard!"

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…




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.

You don’t ask, you don’t get.

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.

With Richard out of town for the holidays, the house has been feeling a little lonely. At least it was until I met a friendly group of Europeans at the bar last night. They regaled me with stories about how they’d been “brotheling” their way across America, and had plans to spend the night at the nearby Melrose Spa.


That’s when I remembered the dark room and relatively clean 110 thread count sheets back at the Formosa House. Problem solved.

When MP and I told the world we were going to offer the ladies of Craigslist Casual Encounters the chance to win a dream date with Richard, the naysayers called it a joke. They said we didn’t know anything about match making; that we wouldn’t be able to¬† afford an “escort,” and we’d just end up borrowing money to buy Richard a “hooker.”

Sure, that last part may have been our “plan A” at one point, but then we met the lovely AW, and she swept us all off our feet.

As a testament to the power of true love, I present to you the Christmas gifts Richard received from his Dream Date this morning (see photos below). Representing her Midwestern roots, AW sent a “someone in Chicago loves me” shirt, which I’d hoped was from her closet, but upon sniffing discovered it to be a new purchase (exhibit B). She also sent a Chicago style, deep dish pizza (not pictured), the scraps of which I photographed after my lunch (exhibit C).

Merry Christmas, one and all.