Not Chosen, Just Posin'

I just got a job with a Jewish magazine. I'm not Jewish. They think I am.


Monday, March 05, 2007



First off, the Manwhore is seeing the Israeli girl again, again, again. Judging by his delivery of the news (“She’s all psycho and jealous now”), he’s pretty unenthusiastic about the whole situation. All involved unanimously replied, “Any girl who dates you has to be.” True. True.

Fortunately for him, the Israeli was doing Purim stuff on Saturday. Since the Manwhore had brilliantly suggested they "take it slow," he didn't have to participate in the festivities. "I would but we're moving way too fast, baby."

Off the hook, we walked into our favorite bar on Saturday night and before we even ordered drinks, he was making out with some chick. Yes, yes—typical Manwhore fashion. It’s not as if the Manwhore needed to order drinks, though. Being the cheap bastard that he is, the Manwhore’s preferred method of getting liquored up is walking up to random girls, offering them a little, “Hi, how you doin’?” as he starts drinking from their straws. Usually he’s half way through their drinks before they catch on. It’s a good way to save money if you can stand to sip on cosmos and appletinis. I, for one, can not.

The Manwhore ate for free that night as well. After the festivities, we went to a 24-hour diner to get gravy cheesy fries (highly recommended), but before they arrived, the Manwhore was leaning into the next table, stabbing a girl’s spaghetti with his fork; twirling it and letting it drop into his mouth. He chewed it dramatically to make this act seem part of his stand up routine, when in reality he was starving and not willing to foot the bill. Also, you have to take into consideration that this diner was the last leg of our Saturday night tour. If he didn’t find a girl to take home there, he’d have to wait until, God Forbid, Sunday. Somehow the Manwhore’s whole spaghetti thing was charming in comparison to the scumbag sitting at a table across from us. When the waitress asked said scumbag for his order, he replied, “an omelet.” When the waitress asked the scumbag what he wanted in his omelet, the scumbag screamed (warning…racy material to come…), “I want pussy on my omelet!”

Before the scumbag was kicked out, the Manwhore went up to introduce himself. I think he might be replacing me with a more fitting friend.

The Manwhore went home with the Spaghetti chick.

Update: The Manwhore cried like a little girl about me posting the Israeli's picture, so I had to take it down.

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