Letters From Pat

Dear Hair Cuttery Lady,

(Instead of posting on Facebook every 10 seconds about how mad I am...I figured I'd write the first Letter in about a year...)

First off, there will be no pictures...I have already broken every mirror in my apartment, and thrown out all reflective surfaces, just so I don't have to look at it...I will not subject you to it either.

I walked in to The Hair Cuttery, which is about 2 minutes from my place...figured why not.  How much worse could this place be than Supercuts?  

I waited 20 minutes for the lady to finish cutting this terrifying looking man's hair...he looked like this:

...Like...exactly like that.  Oh great...I get to sit in that guy's seat. (He also purchased an insane amount of conditioner on his way out...just a frightening individual)

So I finally sit down, and the lady asked me how I want my haircut.  I have said the same thing since I was 13 and won "Best 70s haircut": "Regular, just shorter than it is now"...easy.  Except I have probably gotten a hundred or so haircuts in that time, and none of them have ever looked the same.

So this lady quickly goes to work with the buzzers.  She cuts off next to nothing, so I ask her if we can go a little bit shorter...a reasonable request I thought.  She takes off the safety piece and cuts down to my scalp.

No only that, but her method of using the buzzers was extremely aggressive.  At some point in your life, you have scooped out Ice Cream from a container.  Sometimes, the ice cream is so frozen and hard, that you have to put a little more effort into it.  So you put one hand on the opposite side of the container, to use your hand to push back towards you, as you then jam the scooper into the container.  Well this was how this lady was cutting my hair.  She was essentially scooping the hair off of my head.

After she finished sheering me like a dying sheep.  She asked how I liked it, and if I would like her to shampoo it.  I told her: "Well, it'll grow back, and no, I just want to leave".

$20 later, and I would have rather she had just cut the head off.

If anyone needs me, I'll be curled up in the shower crying.

Love,

So It has been about a year since I started this blog, and I have gotten alot of questions about it.  In the last month or so I have really been slacking on posting stuff on here...I am going to try hard and remedy that...

A lot of the questions I get are pretty much the same thing, so I'm going to take a second and answer some of them:

What is your Blog about?

It really isn't about anything.  The tagline is "Letters to my favorite people and favorite things", it really should be "Here are the dumb things that I think are funny, please laugh at them so I feel better about myself"

How much do you make doing it?

I have made an astounding $0 writing this particular blog.  However, a family member of mine was in Boston a couple of months ago, and got a free beer from the Bartender because he recognized him as being my relative...so that's something.

(I tried to put Ads on this, but people clicked them so many times, that Google sent me an email telling me they were taking back the money they were going to send me, because of "invalid click activity"...that was a sad day.)

How many people read it?

Way more than I would have thought when I started it,  as of right now, I have gotten 884 different people to read it, and have 9,109 pageviews.  That means 880 more people have read my blog, than like me in real life.

Why are you making that face?

If you are looking for a reason other than: "Because it is fucking adorable", you are asking the wrong person.

How long are you going to keep this blog?

I just re-up'd with GoDaddy for another year...but I really have no idea.

Thanks everyone for reading it when you do, if you have any comments or anything I'd love to hear 'em at [email protected]

Till Next Time,

Love,

Pat

Dear Supercuts,

You are like an abusive boyfriend to me.  Every time I leave you, I swear I'll never come back.  You have wronged me so many times in the past, and treated me terribly.  But, for some reason I always turn back to you when I am in need...of a haircut.

I went there today, and it started of wonderfully.  I stood behind a Soccer Mom and her 9 year old, while she paid for the little tykes haircut.  When she had completed her transaction of services for money, and stepped aside, an old lady came outta nowhere and cut me in line.

Here is what upsets me the most:

The entire place is almost empty, there is absolutely no need to rush.

I was clearly in line to put my name in for a lovely style.

What is an old lady doing getting her haircut at this Super place anyways?

So fine, she cuts me, and I say nothing (because I have respect for my elders, and because she smelled like a can of tuna fish got stuck in someones armpit for a week...vivid imagery...also 100% accurate).

My name is called, I sit down, the lady puts that liner around my neck which makes me want to commit suicide for the duration of the haircut, because every time I have to tilt my head down, I am forced to look at my fat neck as the noose she has created for me pushed it up to my chin.

But the worst part of being 27 and getting your haircut, is the fact that I have to sit there the whole time and wonder if this is the last haircut I get before I start to notice a bunch of Gray hairs, or bald spots.  I have to sit there and look at my hairline, and wonder if this is the last time I am going to see the little guy in the shape he is currently in.

Haircuts are frustrating dammit.

Love,

Pat

Dear Justin Timberlake (@jtimberlake),

I would very much enjoy grabbing a beer with you.  Something just tells me that you would be a cool guy to hang out with.

I enjoy you as an actor (I actually had a little Twitter conversation with @geardley about the fact that your movies are extremely enjoyable).  I find your appearances on SNL to be entertaining.  I feel like we could have a fun time for an hour or so.

Maybe most importantly, you have dated some of the most ridiculously hot women in the world, so that would probably be brought up in conversation...by me...every 11 seconds

Now, in no way am I saying that I think you would like me.  If we get a beer, and you don't like men, and you are mean to me, I will revert back to my 1998, 13 year old mentality which is that you are still just that idiot from N'Sync.

Let's make this happen Timberlake...

...Well I mean...not that.  But it was funnier than doctoring a picture of us getting a beer.

Love,

Pat

Disciples,

So I've been thinking a lot about this dying shit.  I was dying for people's sins before that was cool.  You know what I mean?  

This year, things are going to be a little different.  This year, me and Judas (yeah I forgive him...I'm fucking Jesus Christ for Me's sake) are going to throw on our skinny jeans and fedoras, and go down to the Village for some sushi and Sake Bombs.

Then we're gonna head downtown and see my buddy's band play.  We are going to drink so much blood errr I mean wine, its going to be insane.  I'll probably sleep right through Saturday, and wake up Sunday with the worst hangover in the history of the world...ok maybe 2nd worst.

I may not be dying again this year, because that shit is sooooo 1 B.C, but I will enjoy a nice Pabst and some of my bros.

Namaste

Lord

I have never seen the original Footloose...but this chick is in the new one.  So my master plan is to tell my special gal that I would never watch that movie.  And then make her think I am watching it as a favor to her.  The I will spend the next hour and a half watching this chick dance.

Also, she is dating Ryan Seacrest....

Dear 2012 Red Sox, This is the least excited I have been going into an opening day in the last 15 years.  Normally, I would have taken the day off, bought a bunch of hot dogs to boil, beers to drink, and maybe even a Red Man to hangout with during the game. I didn't even bother this year.  I'm still going to watch and pay attention during the year, its just I don't seem to be able to dive right in like I'm used to. The 2011 Red Sox were like that girl who treated you right most of the time, and you fell in love with her, you spent time together, and you felt like it was really going to go someplace.  Then just as you were going to propose, she slept with your bestfriend, took pictures, and drunkingly texted them to you and your entire family. It just really took the wind out of my sails for this year.  I will watch, but it is going to take time to completely trust in them, and fully buy in to this year. Either Way, baseball coming back is a sign of good things.  Sam Summer is out, chicks are starting to wear less clothing...things are looking alright. Love, Pat

Dear Mr. Artistic,

So, I do not have an iPhone (because I am poor), we needn't worry why (first time I have ever correctly used to the "needn't").  I instead have an Android phone (which I am pretty sure watches and records me asleep).

It has come to my attention, due to every single person on Facebook, Twitter, other internet sites, my mailman, the billboards I passed on the way to the gas station this morning, the texts I've gotten from kids I went to pre-school with, the letter I recieved from my great grandmother, and the tattoo I saw on the homeless gentleman at the soup kitchen, that Android now has Instagram.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Fancy.

No more will the Android users needn't go without this cool app (SHIT!...I got cocky and misused "needn't").  I have to say, that if not having an iPhone made me feel like a poor poor pauper poor person, it was always at its highest when I would look at people's really neat Instagram photos.

When I look at normal pictures, I always think to myself: "Oh man, that picture of a sandwich is good, but I really wish it looked more artsy, I bet if it looked like it was a sandwich from 1972, I would really enjoy it more"

You can already post pictures on Twitter and Facebook, so I don't really understand why I need another social site to post stuff, nonetheless, I am a gigantic douche, so I have signed up for it.

I haven't figured out how or if I am even going to use it...I am thinking of just taking some really artsy pictures of toenail clippings or something...but I just don't know yet.

If anyone knows of any rules or guidelines that I should abide by...feel free to let me know...I needn't embarrass myself (...and he fucking nails it...).

Love,

Pat

Dear Kevin,

As your older brother, I believe that I have imparted you with a some life lessons that have hopefully shaped you as a person, or have at least helped you on your way.

As a young man, life has a lot of things to offer you.  You have earned certain opportunities that could possibly lead to success.  However, there are things that you can't do.  People always talk about the fact that you can do anything...well it is equally important to know the things you Absolutely Cannot:

Under No Circumstance, should you ever call Marty McFly Chicken.

I can not stress this enough.  Terrible, Horrible, unspeakable things have happened in response to calling Marty McFly "Chicken" or even "Yellow".

Now the fact that you are a real person, and Marty is fictional, does not make it any less important.

Statistics have shown, that if you call Marty McFly any of these names...you will indeed end up with a mouthful of Manure.

Love,

Dear @alecbaldwin, 

Mr. Baldwin, I understand that you are a very busy man.  I also understand, that my life is not really that interesting.  However, I really think that for the good of humanity, you need to narrate my life.  I don't think you realize:

How much this would mean to me

How this would elevate both of us socially (eh, OK fine, just me) 

How funny it could be

I would not expect you to fly or drive to the Boston area, so I have come up with two ways we can do this...

I come to New York.  We hang out like a couple of Buddies, see some sites, maybe invite Tina Fey out for a drink, have a good ole fashioned swell day.

I can send you a clip of my life, (which will most likely look very unprofessional) which you can then Narrate.

Truth be told Sir, I would be happy with a response of any kind.

I hope to hear from you soon...I apologize that my consistent tweets may become annoying...

Love,

Pat

As Always....please help in this wonderful cause by Tweeting the following to Mr. Alec Baldwin: 

Dear Sorry For Wasting Your Time,

Throughout the day, I am sure that things come across your mind, that you aren't sure of.  You may want to find the answer to a particular question.  Whether that's: "Who played the homeless guy in 'Big Daddy'?" (Steve Buscemi), or maybe even: "Where can I get the best sandwich in Pittsburgh?" (Primanti Bros), you will probably go onto Google on your computer, or phone, and type in the quesiton.

More often than not, Google, will give you the answer right off the bat.  Othertimes, Google will make you work for it a bit.  It is those other times, that sometimes you end up clicking on a site that has a tiny bit to do with your subject, but isn't really what you were looking for.  Well, some of the people who read this little blog thing, stumble upon it accidentally through this process.

Here are some of the best things people have searched for on Google, and it has lead them accidentally to my blog...some of them even stick around to read it.

(These are real)

my girlfriend doesn't wrestle but you should see her box

write letter grief process

will everyone please raise their glasses

what part was john astin if he grew a mustache

uncool dan burger

the girlfriends from bio dome

roman soldier walking

i can't wear domes in my ears

you don't mow another man's lawn

and my personal favorite:

pat the bunny: sing with me [vhs]

So be careful when Google, this has been a warning.

Love,

Pat

We are nearing the end of March Madness...and I will not lie to you, I am not going to hit this goal of 31.  However, I don't see this as a complete failure.  First of all, it has made me realize how awesome Twitter is, and I'm pretty sure I am mere weeks away from being it's Champion as well.

IX

Who Tweeted: Jim Norton @JimNorton

What They Tweeted: 

About to enjoy a restful nights sleep with my home sleep study kit.#FeelLikeAnAsshole, #GoodLuckSleeping 

So, I replied to him: "@JimNorton you look like a dickhead in that thing"

Which was ReTweeted by not only Jim Norton but also by a bunch of other people including @OandAshow

Dear Nachos,

You get a plate of nachos.  Those magnificent treats arrive like a Alladin in a Parade:

(A Hundred Bad Guys with sWords).  

Salsa, Sour Cream, Cheese, Jalapenos.  It looks like the world's most delicious burrito exploded all over your tortilla chips.

(Neither of those people are me, I found this picture on...the internet)

First you start to enjoy the cheesy goodness.  You try to be democratic about your selection of chips.  But much like picking teams in the playground, you end up going after all of the heavy hitters first.  You grab the guys on top, who are just covered in nacho.  There is so much stuff on the first couple of nachos, that you have to try not to spill its contents onto other chips.

You make your way through the first level, like you just stormed the beach at Normandy.  Cheese and Beans just exploding all over the place.  You look over at your best friend, and he has a little indigestion, "I THINK HE'S HIT!".  You don't even talk, because you don't want any of the dickheads around you to steal that magnificient chip you've been staring at.

(You see, there is always one chip that holds everything together.  You will eat around that chip until you reach that critical time, when you need to break on through.  You can usually tell which one of your friends is a selfish asshole, by seeing who goes after it prematurely...seriously, next time you are going to have nachos...re-read this...I promise you, that one of the people you really like, is a shithead)

You have made your way through the delicious layers of goodness.  But you are not done yet...Oh no, you will see the carnage that is left behind...170 plain chips.  It is utterly depressing.  You ever eat a bunch of these dry worthless chips?  As something very dry was once described on the wonderful show "Workaholics" "It's like a Mummy's Dick"

We really need to do something about this... 

Love,

Pat

Dear Appetizers,

When you go out, and get appetizers with more than 2 people...sometimes even with 2 people...you go through a range of internal thoughts and emotions:

The Apps Arrive:

"We are all friends, this is a good time, I think I am going to enjoy my night."

The Apps start to get eaten:

"Ohh it looks like everyone really enjoys the Buffalo Chicken, and no one really likes onion rings."

The Amount of Apps start to deplete:

"Ummm Steve you already had a 2 potato skins, and I didn't even get one yet.  Why don't you get your greedy, fucking hands away from the skins, and have some nachos or something you absolute worthless dickhead."

There is one left of everything:

"I really want that last Mozzarella stick.  I didn't have one yet.  Should I just take it, or should I offer to split it with someone?  FUCKING JERRY TOOK IT.  FUCKING JERRY TOOK THE LAST MOZZARELLA STICK.  I hope Jerry gets in an accident on the way  home.  I hope when Jerry's car smashes into the side rail on the highway, that mozzarella stick comes up into his throat, and gets jammed in his windpipe.  I hope Jerry chockes on that delicious piece of breaded diary."

8 seconds after appetizers are gone...

"I am having a great time, I wonder if I should order another beer?"

Love,

Pat

Dear The Creepiest thing ever, 

I realize this thing is like 8 years old, and I am not seeing this for the first time, but I stumbled across this the other day, and I got legit creeped out.  

There's a couple of these Salad Finger Episodes, each creepier than the last, and they get tons of hits on YouTube...and I don't know why.  I think of these like I think of "Human Centipede", and Egg Nog , I would be perfectly fine if they didn't exist.

Love,

Pat