-
In poker, the term bad beat is used to describe a player that has a hand of what appear to be strong cards but nevertheless loses. We’ve all been there right? You see a chick or a dude you like, you think you’re in there until all of a sudden SHIT: some Ombre haired husk of a human, some cocksucker specializing in commercial real estate, some hipster filth barge, swoops in and seals the deal in your place.
———————————————————————————————————————————-
—————————————————————————————————————————————
And you’re like WHAT. THE FUCK. You’re cooler than them. You’re more successful. You’re much funnier. Hey, you may even be better looking. IT DOESN’T MATTER. You had four of a kind and then they pull a card on the river and come out with a straight FLUSH and you’re done. FLUSH your ass right down the toilet is what they did. You could be one of those assholes in the green visors winning the world series of Poker, but all your opponent has to do is draw the right card and you’re banished to the all you can eat buffet. Its out of your control. LUCK, they call it. Bad luck, so it would seem. But you can’t let that shit get you down. I mean, that shit even happens to Taylor Swift.
But that’s the thing about poker, you may have lost this hand, but that resigned yet friendly dealer in a colorful vest is just waiting to start the next game, and that face card you need to hook up that royal flush might be next up on deck. So order another complimentary drink from the waitress and settle in, because its gonna be a long night.
-
Its the opening riff in the “Free Bird” of excuses. The first single off the new album, “Its Not You, Its Me.” People say that shit like its news. Oh, you’re in a bad place right now? I KNOW! And this is me, holding out my hand trying to pull your ass back from the depths. But that shit doesn’t work. Its like you’re Indiana Jones and they’re Elsa. And there’s a fucking earthquake and they’re hanging off a ledge reaching for the grail, about to fall into a smokey pit. And you’re all like ELSA HONEY, YOUR OTHER HAND I CAN’T HOLD YOU! And they’re just reaching for the grail cause let’s be honest, they don’t want to be helped. Oh, they’re all like “I believe in the grail, not the swastika.” Yeah right, TELL THAT TO THE JUDGE AT NUREMBERG BITCH. And as much as you’re offering an awesome life of adventure and having Sean Connery as a father in law, it won’t work. Elsa is more into the grail than she is into you. If somebody’s determined to fall into the pit, you just gotta let ‘em do it. But don’t worry about it. YOU’RE FUCKING INDIANA JONES. You’re an international archeologist playboy. You just met a knight and he is totally your bro now.
—————————————————————————————————————————————-
—————————————————————————————————————————————-
If its not clear to you its definitely clear to the audience, Elsa’s got it all wrong. Only the penitent man will pass! So for now you gotta bide your time finding Sankara stones and making all the co-eds swoon until somebody has the sense to grab your other hand.
-
Talking to a dude or a chick at a bar and then finding out they have a girlfriend/boyfriend is like getting into the right lane on the freeway only to have the lane immediately end forcing you to jam you way back into traffic. There’s nothing left to do but whisper a resigned “fuck.” under your breath. Those cocksuckers should wear signs.
-
So you and your significant other broke up. And it feels really bad at first. Like the Cobra Kai is all up in your grill. They broke your bike, they keep cock blocking you when you try to talk to Elizabeth Shue, you can’t even go to the Halloween dance dressed as a shower in peace.
—————————————————————————————————————————————-
—————————————————————————————————————————————-
It seems like everywhere you turn there’s another reminder of your failure as a human. How are you really going to adjust to your new life in this strange California suburb? Its nothing like the comfort of the familiar New Jersey. Out here you’re alone. But then you meet Mr. Miyagi. He’s wise in the ways of the world. He’s been through some shit. Motherfucker was in World War 2! His wife died in an internment camp chrissake! Not to mention he’s got this other chick back in Okinawa that he had to break up with years ago for personal reasons you wont find out about until the sequel. Bottom line is, he gets it. At first his advice doesn’t make a lot of sense. All the things he tells you to do seem arbitrary. Sand the floor, paint the fence, act cool and just say “hi” when you run into your ex at your mutual friend’s birthday party, don’t “like” their status even if it IS funny. You almost get frustrated. Why am I doing all this shit? It doesn’t mean anything. I’m just acting cool. I’m not cool at all. I feel like shit. I’m not over it. I’m just painting a fence and waxing a bunch of olde tymey cars. There’s no WAY I’m going to be able to compete in the All Valley Tournament. But Miyagi knows better. All that shit is just muscle memory. The longer you act like its cool, the closer you get to it actually BEING COOL. So if you just keep sanding the floor and painting the fence, casually asking your ex how they’re doing and buying them a drink, one day all that work will come together into an awesome collection of moves defending you against any opponent that might arise to fight your self esteem. Even if they try to sweep the leg when you see them with a date, you will come back WITH THE FUCKING CRANE KICK. Because you’ve mastered the zen art of moving on. And who knows, Miyagi might give you one of his sweet old cars to take Elizabeth Shue out to the Golf ‘n Stuff. Maybe California isn’t so bad after all.
-
Learning how not to be an asshole is like learning a foreign language. It’s easier to retain the younger you learn it. If you’re a dude who dated chicks in high school, you had the time to fuck up and learn from your mistakes. She gets mad when you have some sophomore on your lap as you play quarters in your friends basement. She likes it when you remember to bring her balloons to school on her birthday. But if you’re a nerd in high school and no chicks wanted to get with you, when you get to be a successful adult and chicks actually want to fuck you, you don’t have the tools to know when to conjugate the verbs, or when to use the formal “we” or when to call a chick after you boned. And in those cases, es un disastre. You spent years of your youth idolizing Lloyd Dobbler and Duckie, wishing that all those girls dating the jocks would wake up and see that the nice guy walking out of AP Chemistry could walk right into their hearts. But you forgot that guy, you’re not Lloyd Dobbler. You got the keys to the pussy kingdom and instead of writing the chick a letter about how you’ll always be there for her, you’re texting “what up girl?” at 2am. Don’t be that guy. Download the Rosetta Stone Spanish Level 1 and be the guy you always thought you were. Chicks will dig it.
-
So its been a while. Like, A WHILE since the opposite sex has shown any significant interest. You start to get desperate. Interactions you may have once written off now seem like “oh yeah, its on.” He offered to get me a beer when he got up! She touched my arm for kind of a long time when she asked what I’m doing for Thanksgiving! But no, its so not on. You’re just SELF ESTEEM WAR RATIONING. You gotta take what you can get. There’s only so much steak and aluminum foil and thinking that someone else thinks you’re hot, to go around. But in times of war, a hug goodbye, an unexpected gchat and a can of Spam is just gonna have to do. Don’t worry though, the tides of war will turn, B-J Day is just around the corner.
-
It wasn’t always this way. You used to go out. You used to find that story they told interesting and funny. You guys would do activities together, and buy shit together and hanging out seemed better than doing anything else. But then you woke up one day and that thing that used to be awesome was replaced with a staggering, dead eyed, brain eating shadow if its former self that not only wants to eat you alive but also never does their dishes and does this shit where they laugh at their own jokes before they even finish telling them. Its like your relationship started out as the first season of LOST and you were all like THIS IS SO FUCKING AWESOME, I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT EPISODE, EACH CHARACTER IS UNIQUE AND INTERESTING IN THEIR OWN WAY. And then once you got to the later seasons you were like WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN HAPPENING I HATE EVERYONE WHY IS THERE TIME TRAVEL.
The point is, even though it LOOKS and FEELS like the thing you loved, its not. Its a hissing, bloody, death rattle of a show that hasn’t been good in years, and you best put one in its head and get the fuck outta there. Cause lying to yourself ain’t gonna save shit.
-
When you hook up with someone you know and may run into on a regular basis but don’t want to do it again, a different set of rules apply. That random dude you met at the bar? You definitely do not need to respond to his 2am “what up girl?” text. That chick you met in Cabo? Facebook friend request DENIED. But if you do it with a friend and you decided you don’t want to do it anymore, the blow off, aka the freeze out, won’t work. Because they’re totally gonna be at that party, BBQ, and/or intimate birthday dinner this weekend, and fuck, what if they bring it up? What if they’re mad? What if they like like me and I only like them? The only respectable thing to do is just be honest, because if you let that shit linger, all its gonna do is make things worse. Think of it like gangrene. You get your leg cut up on the battlefield, you can’t just put it back in the boot, you gotta CUT THAT SHIT OFF. Otherwise that infection of expectation and responsibility is just going to get into your blood stream and kill your ass. Sure, Kevin Costner did it in DANCES WITH WOLVES but you are not Kevin Costner (no one is). So just say how you feel up front and cut it off. The quicker that happens, the quicker we can all just go back to being friends.
