[Originally posted November 2010]

You invite me out but you call it a “playdate”. What exactly is going on here?  Do you think it’s cute?  Is this some passive aggressive reminder to me you’re such an awesome parent, and that you’re so into your kids that everything you do is kid-oriented?  Like you’re somehow special for having kids?  Because all it’s doing is making me hate you more.  And your kids.

Of course the only retards who use this term are other parents.  My single friends have never heard of the phrase “playdate”.  It’s not funny, it’s not cute, and I, for one, really fucking hate the phrase “playdate” because like my single friends, I had never heard of such a retarded thing before I had spawn of my own.  I succumb to it only because that seems to be the only vernacular that most other parents can understand, and I have just about completely lost the will to fight the masses on the idea that if my kid comes over to your house to hang out, it’s perfectly okay to call it, “coming over to your house to hang out”.  So that end, much as I hate it, I’ve conceded the point when it comes to the kids.  But if you’re a grown-up and you wanna get together with your friends and you call it a “playdate”, I’m pretty sure your friends should never stop punching you in the face every time they see you.

You say things like “anyhoo” and “ridonkculous”. How do these words leave your lips and not drive you to punch yourself in the face repeatedly? Because you should. One punch for every syllable. “Anyhoo”… *punch*punch*punch*. Extra punches if you drag the “hoooooo” out. Try it, it’s a fun game.

What is the thinking behind your fondness for these words? Is it for dramatic or playful effect? Because if it’s one thing the word “anyhow” needs, it’s a healthy infusion of playful drama from you. God, imagine how much more brilliant Shakespeare could’ve been if he had your gift of creative word play. “Anyhoooo… This battle is ridonkulous… A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”

Are you fucking kidding me? Knock it off.

You have to remind me of everything that happened in college and/or high school. Why do you have the brain capacity to remember every fucking insignificant thing we ever did in college or high school, but yet you can’t put two brain cells together to muster up the social skill to not bring it up every single time we get together?

“Dude, remember that time we drove to the Delaware Water Gap with the girls from that sorority and accidentally left them there?” “Dude, remember that time you drank all my mom’s vodka and peed on my ficus?” “Dude, remember that time we got White Castles at three in the morning?”

Oh my God, please shut the fuck up. Shut up and never bring these inane stories up again. Not because they’re incriminating, or shameful. It’s because they’re painfully dull, and no one gives a shit about them but you. No one gives a shit. No one. They’re not fun, they’re not funny, they’re not big, they’re not clever, and you really, really need to fucking let it all go.

Never paralyze us with your stupid stories again.