Ask Sam
A Half-Assed Attempt
Stephen Metcalf
Issue date: 4/14/05 Section: Humor
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Now you've done it. You've angered the Ask Sam gods by failing to submit timely and relevant material. As a result, I've been forced to mail it in this issue. That's right. A genuinely half-assed effort by Yours Truly is what you get for your poor behavior. Can you hear the anger in my text? Let me assure you, it's there. Don't come crying to me when you are subjected to the things that bounce around my head on a daily basis.
Speaking of things that bounce around my head, I was watching the Pistons-Heat game this weekend and had an epiphany. I'm convinced that Pistons' forward Rasheed Wallace was separated at birth from Bumbles, the abominable snowman in the classic Claymation version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. For indisputable evidence, compare the following photos.
Dear Stan:
I have a problem. It is nearing the end of my second year - and still - for the life of me, I always screw up the names of fellow students. Best case, I mispronounce them. Worse, and this happens often, I call people by the wrong name altogether. I feel like a heel, but I'm not sure what to do.
Leonard Shelby
Dear Leo,
Unfortunately, I don't have any cures for your affliction.
However, I do have two rock-solid ways to dance around the issue.
The first thing you need to do is mentally train yourself to respond to greetings with "Hey you" and a touch the greeter's shoulder. I like to call this the Presidential. There is a reason people go ape-sh*t when they meet the President, and I'm pretty sure it's all about delivering that intimate shoulder touch. (Note: I did not say shoulder grope, or shoulder rub. The last thing I need on my conscience is a rash of heavy petting incidents or sexual harassment suits among GSBers.
There is another way around the problem, and it involves teamwork. More specifically, it involves making sure you have a sidekick next to you whenever you think you might bump into someone whose name you have forgotten. In such an instance, simply begin with "Hey. This is," and the forgotten party will find that he/she has unknowingly ferreted out his/her own name. Note: this method does not work very well when the sidekick and the other party have already met but the sidekick has also forgotten the name. In such situations, abort option 2 and stick with the Presidential.
Setting personal interaction back to the Stone-age, Sam
Dear Sam,
After a number of notable deaths in the past few months, I've begun to contemplate my own demise. What do you think is the best way to check out of this world?
Morbidly yours, Bono
Dear Bono,
In light of the passing of such figures as John Paul II, Terri Schiavo, Hunter S. Thompson, and Ol' Dirty Bastard, I am not surprised that you have developed a fascination with death. I too have thought long and hard about how I hope to leave this earth. Actually, I find myself fixated with the ways I definitely don't want to go out. So, with no further ado, I present to you the 2005 Ask Sam Awards for worst ways to kick the bucket (drum roll please):
4. Shark attack
3. Burned at the stake
2. Stuck in trash compactor
1. Stuck in wood chipper
Staying away from sharks, fire, trash compactors, and wood chippers, Sam
Speaking of things that bounce around my head, I was watching the Pistons-Heat game this weekend and had an epiphany. I'm convinced that Pistons' forward Rasheed Wallace was separated at birth from Bumbles, the abominable snowman in the classic Claymation version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. For indisputable evidence, compare the following photos.
Dear Stan:
I have a problem. It is nearing the end of my second year - and still - for the life of me, I always screw up the names of fellow students. Best case, I mispronounce them. Worse, and this happens often, I call people by the wrong name altogether. I feel like a heel, but I'm not sure what to do.
Leonard Shelby
Dear Leo,
Unfortunately, I don't have any cures for your affliction.
However, I do have two rock-solid ways to dance around the issue.
The first thing you need to do is mentally train yourself to respond to greetings with "Hey you" and a touch the greeter's shoulder. I like to call this the Presidential. There is a reason people go ape-sh*t when they meet the President, and I'm pretty sure it's all about delivering that intimate shoulder touch. (Note: I did not say shoulder grope, or shoulder rub. The last thing I need on my conscience is a rash of heavy petting incidents or sexual harassment suits among GSBers.
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There is another way around the problem, and it involves teamwork. More specifically, it involves making sure you have a sidekick next to you whenever you think you might bump into someone whose name you have forgotten. In such an instance, simply begin with "Hey. This is
Setting personal interaction back to the Stone-age, Sam
Dear Sam,
After a number of notable deaths in the past few months, I've begun to contemplate my own demise. What do you think is the best way to check out of this world?
Morbidly yours, Bono
Dear Bono,
In light of the passing of such figures as John Paul II, Terri Schiavo, Hunter S. Thompson, and Ol' Dirty Bastard, I am not surprised that you have developed a fascination with death. I too have thought long and hard about how I hope to leave this earth. Actually, I find myself fixated with the ways I definitely don't want to go out. So, with no further ado, I present to you the 2005 Ask Sam Awards for worst ways to kick the bucket (drum roll please):
4. Shark attack
3. Burned at the stake
2. Stuck in trash compactor
1. Stuck in wood chipper
Staying away from sharks, fire, trash compactors, and wood chippers, Sam
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