Thursday, August 21, 2008


My friend goes on a date, he and the lady get tipsy, she takes him home, she goes down on him, and as any gentlemanly gentleman would do, he attempts to return the favor. He has never done this before and is less than pleased with the results.

"My god it's like trench warfare down there" he shrieks retelling the harrowing tale.

Nausea swells but then subsides. It subsides because he has vomited chunky curry tandori dinner all over her... trench. He says that she says it stings even after she's run into the shower and rinsed and redressed and called a cab to take him home.

"I'm gay" he announces.

I try to sound surprised, like his tapdancing and love of lavender scented candles and obsession with American Idol were just flukes. "Reeeeeeally?"

"I guess sometimes God works in mysterious ways" he says mysteriously.

"And so does Tandori" I conclude.

He pauses. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat it again."

"...well that makes two of us."


  1. I'm very disappointed. Your mass email said this blog was about professional writing, so I clicked on it thinking I would find what it's like to graduate from Yale and do something a little different. Instead I find post after post of drivel that attempts to be funny simply by listing off cuss words and off-color topics. Yuck.

    I challenge you: prove to us that you are funny by writing a completely G-rated post that is hilarious. You say you're original. You say you're funny. Prove it!

  2. look, this is a relatively poor attempt at blogging, especially after being hyped up by the email. Needless to say, i don't look forward to reading your book.

    Sorry, sometimes you are not paid to believe the power of your dreams. The whole thing about trying to do what you love only applied to people with skills. Go get a real job.

  3. ...You know it's spelled "tandoori", right?

  4. I thought your email was hilarious. However, I also think posting your negative comments for all to see in an attempt to be oh-so-self depreciating is really tired, and whatever it is you're trying to do with this blog has been done before and by more talented/funny writers. Trying to be shocking (oh! he vomited in her crotch after eating her out! HILARIOUS!!!) doesn't work unless you have some serious chops to back it up, which you clearly do not.

    You'll get your hit spike for a day, then it'll die back down to you and your 3 former roommates.

  5. I think if you're going to write a book, you should learn how to use punctuation with quotations first, and to put commas in the proper place.

  6. I think the blog posts so far certainly make it evident that the author is a very good writer. Comment authors so far don't seem to appreciate the importance of an outlet for the kinds of ideas and stories you put on here. It's great that she can put her silly, outlandish, offensive, or irrelevant musings on a blog while focusing on her profession.

    This is one reader who's hooked, and without any personal connection to the author. Keep up the good work.

  7. That's disgusting. Thanks for the e-mail.

  8. Thanks for the email. Congrats on graduating. I loved it all. Obviously, you're talented and you will be blessed by using your god given talents. You have a great drive and you will continue to succeed, so write on! Follow your passion and everything else and more will fall into its proper place in your life.

  9. wait i need more details: did he know he was gay, or did his vomitting tandoor into her fish salad turn him, or did he just figure he was never going to have a chance again and might as well go from chicken to sausage? if he knew, what was he doing with ms. formerly clean crotch? was this recent, or how he realized it, but more importantly, who is this kid? he sounds outrageous and outrageously gay, and i need some camp in my life/(bed).

    anyway, everyone seems to comment anonymously around here, but i see no need to do that, and who knows, maybe i'll get off my lazy ass (silence the VOICE) and join that writer community of yours. hoo-ray for brooklyn.