A couple of these guys looked like the waiter in the "Japanese" restaurant I lunched at on Friday. My friend asked if they had a teppan grill and he didn't know what it was or what she was asking. I explained it to him and he still didn't seem to know what it was.
But the real reason I only left him a 10% tip was that he kept leaning over the partition by our table to ask how things were...four or five times.
Seeing him pictured at this party makes sense to me. I knew he couldn't be a real waiter.
Do your photographers not prompt for names? I mean, thanks for not labeling me "Unknown," I guess, but my suit, at least, should have required an Atherton Bartelby mention.
In the shot with the ginger kid you forgot to name Atherton Bartleby. I know you didn't think we could handle a name so on par with Gaby Darbyshire and Lockhart Steele, but I believe as a nation we are ready.
I don't understand why Andrew and I are in every single Gawker publicity photo together. (Re: Last week's Bloodcopy party.) Oh wait, I get it, the "corporations who could give a shit about the bold line between journalism, market research, and publicity" refers to Gawker Media! How self-referential.
Is this one of those self-help books that really just emphasizes all your bad points, while it yells, scoffs, calls you names in "straight talk" and invariably makes you want to cheese curl yourself into a be-corned coma, while you cry hysterically to some piteous friend who still reads Tucker Max (Virgin Megastore, $5.99) or worse yet about What to do When the Zombies Attack, and there you are in your Snuggie, scarfing Chicken Mcnuggets with the remote, watching Mall Rats and wondering how a chubby Ben Affleck ever won an Oscar?
Yes, this is what happens when friends give you kitschy books that they think are cute and will subliminally get you out of sweatpants.
Much as I hate to correct Richard, this sort of thing is more "Barnes & Noble checkout line rack Secret Santa gift for someone you barely know" than "Urban Outfitters bathroom reading table," though the line between the two is pretty blurry...
Good on you, Richard B. Now is the time to bone up on your proofreading symbols so you can mark the pages correctly (there will be words in this book, won't there?). If you need help, go to the word "proofread" in Webster's and there is a list just waiting for you.
Do not listen to your editor, the people who sign these books generally don't know shit. Make friends with the marketing manager who is assigned to your book and, of course, your publicist.
06/09/09
06/09/09
06/07/09
But the real reason I only left him a 10% tip was that he kept leaning over the partition by our table to ask how things were...four or five times.
Seeing him pictured at this party makes sense to me. I knew he couldn't be a real waiter.
06/07/09
06/07/09
06/07/09
O:D
06/07/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
Seems you folks do enjoy a good circle jerk.. Get a fucking room why don't you...
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
06/06/09
03/20/09
Yes, this is what happens when friends give you kitschy books that they think are cute and will subliminally get you out of sweatpants.
It won't, though.
03/20/09
03/20/09
03/20/09
03/20/09
Do not listen to your editor, the people who sign these books generally don't know shit. Make friends with the marketing manager who is assigned to your book and, of course, your publicist.