#1. Your mascot is a tiger in a wheelchair

#2. Most famous alma-mater: the inventor of the “cheese inside the crust” pizza

#3. Your fight song is Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is”

#4. Diplomas written with crayon on the back of used Hamburger Hamlet placemats

#5. Tenured professors identifiable by teardrop tattoo

#6. Statue of university founder is in a fetal postion

#7. School advertises on urinal cakes

#8. Orientation includes chemical delousing

#9. Sign out front says WALK-INS WELCOME!

#10. Scholarships awarded via hottest buns contest

#11. President’s office has a condom machine in it

#12. All textbooks are from the Everyone Poops series

#13. Offers minor in “Winning Radio Contests”

#14. It’s the reason U.S. News introduced “Total Shithole” ranking

#15. Quad located in the median-strip of the New Jersey Turnpike

#16. Your senior thesis came back covered in gold stars and scratch-n-sniff stickers

#17. Marching band uses only hand-claps

#18. Community-service requirement is handing out half-off fliers in front of competing colleges

#19. Professors begin class with, “Let’s get our learn on!”

#20. Professors end class with, “Smell ya later, fags!”

#21. Banner over main gate reads OVER ONE MILLION TEACHED

#22. Dorms double as conjugal-visit trailers

#23. Merit-based scholarship based only on the ability to blow oneself

#24. One-free-hour of AOL with every two semesters completed

#25. Accepts only cash (“no bills larger than $20, thank you”)

#26. Still no official website, but one hell of a kick-ass MySpace page

#27. The dean has a reputation for being a bit of a “gash hound”

#28. Care packages confiscated and redistributed to senior faculty

#29. Endowment is whatever happens to be in the treasurer’s coin purse

#30. The college motto, translated from the Latin: “To Dry Retch”

#31. All awards in the trophy case are for chicken sexing

#32. Founder’s plaque reads ESTABLISHED THIS MANY FINGERS AGO

#33. Courses offered in-class, online, and drive-thru

#34. Faculty re-staffed daily by illegal immigrants brought in by pick-up truck

#35. Corey Feldman given honorary degree three years running

#36. Financial aid package consists of $10 and a pack of smokes

#37. Has a swim-up dining hall

#38. One robe passed from person to person in diploma line

#39. Campus has its own Green Zone

#40. You attend Harbard, Yole, or Pranceton

#41. Commencement ceremony is a live feed from a better school’s commencement ceremony

#42. Your favorite professor holds office hours in his taco truck

#43. Big man on campus is a 700-pound shut-in

#44. Freshmen choose between “swinger” and “square” dorms

#45. Founded in 1979 as a Fotomat

#46. Half of all student groups devoted to tanning

#47. Dorm doubles as poultry farm

#48. Health center run by the same dude who once sold you bad acid

#49. Faculty are permitted/encouraged to carry tasers

#50. Counseling Services is a candy dish of Adderall

#51. School dubiously characterizes itself as “accredited in all the right places.”

#52. At least once a month, your Humanities professor exclaims, “Enough of this boring shit. Who’s up for some freeze tag?”

#53. Offers a philosophy class based on Arsenio’s “Things That Make You Go Hmm . . .”

#54. Literary journal is mostly car-wash coupons

#55. Students draw straws to see who gets dissected in anatomy

#56. All students completing campus tour required to sign gag order

#57. Valedictorians are determined by a mixed-martial-arts cage match

#58. If your roommate commits suicide, you get a free iPod Shuffle

#59. Ivy is mostly poison sumac

#60. Tenure means being chained to a radiator

#61. All dining halls have posters with instructions for properly using a bib

#62. Offers only two study-abroad options: Bush Gardens or Epcot Center

#63. Homeless person sleeping in the periodicals room is what’s known as a “visiting professor”

#64. Only college with “& Grille” after its name

#65. Scientology recruiters keep their distance

#66. Four student protesters shot dead in 1970, but no one has yet noticed

#67. Endowment consists mostly of unredeemed Delta SkyMiles

#68. Has NCAA’s only cock-fighting program

#69. President accused of sexism for positing that women might be innately bad at pregnancy

#70. The only required reading: Don Diva magazine

#71. Astronomy professor frequently forgets which direction outer space is

#72. Acceptance letters are labeled with student’s name and “Or Current Resident”

#73. Late fee assessed for diplomas held more than three days

#74. Film students required to shoot with cell phones

#75. You had to take your M.C. Escher print off the wall because other students kept trying to step inside it

#76. Desks in classrooms are equipped with seatbelts

#77. Your meal plan is “24-Hour-All-You-Can-Eat Hot Wings”

#78. More than one academic building is dedicated to Carson Daly

#79. Chemistry labs use whatever can be shoplifted from Home Depot

#80. Known as one of the “Seven Stepsisters”

#81. Ranks number one in the country for amount of rival mascots murdered

#82. Shakespeare professors teach only from the Shakespeare in Love script

#83. When you graduated “Cum Laude” the word “cum” was written on your diploma in a sperm font

#84. Every time you answer a question in class, the professor says, “I guess you think you’re better than me.”

#85. Figure drawing classes have a strictly enforced “no touching” policy

#86. It offers an M.A. in Wood Shop

#87. Images of campus life in brochure are stills from Sorority House Massacre 2: Naughty Nightmare

#88. Provost walks around campus with a Burmese python around his neck

#89. You attend the only college that prides itself on its “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Diploma” policy

#90. You discovered you were eligible to graduate via a scratch-off ticket

#91. Your academic adviser spent most of your last session doing chin-ups

#92. The student bookstore has a curtained-off adult section

#93. Has an Assistant Dean of High-Fiving

#94. Your ethics professor wears a house arrest anklet

#95. The first time you brought a laptop to class, the other students thought you were a time-traveler from the future

#96. You found it through a “College Seeking Student” Craigslist ad

#97. When you tell a prospective employer your alma mater, he simply leans across his desk and smacks your face

#98. Boasts nation’s only Ph.D. program in street magic

#99. The English Department’s budget was slashed to help fund the university’s make-your-own-sundae bar

#100. Every three-hour lecture is required to have a 15-minute nap time

#101. Mid-terms include a free-throw contest

#102. Lecture halls have a two-drink minimum

#103. Campus built on top of an ancient Native American community college

#104. When you walked across the stage at graduation, the college chancellor fist-bumped you

#105. Doesn’t have a campus radio station but does have its own CB radio handle

#106. The “grading couch”

#107. “No shoes, no shirt, no diploma” policy

–with Scott Jacobson, Todd Levin, Jason Roeder, and Ted Travelstead

1. Please do not give birth in the hot tub. The only reason I say as much is because at my last cuddle party, a woman gave “natural” birth to a set of twins in the hot tub.

2. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use my grandmother’s hand-knitted pillows as an impromptu sex swing. I only bring this up because at my last cuddle party, a man by the name of “Mr. Pump” (nickname?) used my grandmother’s knitted pillows as an impromptu sex swing.

3. I’m the “lifeguard.” That means I’m in charge. Whatever I say, goes. When I drop this ostrich feather, that means it’s officially time to begin. Also, if I tell you not to use my prescription psoriasis ointment as a sex lubricant, please don’t. I only say this because at my last cuddle party, a group of teens from the local high school found their way into my medicine cabinet, climbed on top of my kitchen table, and used my psoriasis ointment as a sex lubricant.

4. Please do not frighten any of the neighbors, especially the easily startled 89-year-old with the propensity for calling the authorities. I’m telling you this because at my last cuddle party, a group of recently released prisoners (none of whom I had previously met, and who had only learned about my cuddle party from a mysterious pamphlet stapled to a lamppost across from a methadone clinic) loudly popped their “freedom cherries” beneath the bedroom window of my neighbor, the easily startled 89-year-old with the propensity for calling the authorities.

5. I would love it if you did not urinate into my backyard air-conditioning compressor. I’m no Nostradamus, far from it, just an accountant, new to the area, whose only wish last weekend was to throw a cuddle party to meet some fantastic new friends and to create an alcohol- and drug-free environment where people could explore nonsexual touch and unlimited affection without being criticized. What I’m trying to say is that I’m definitely not the type of person who can somehow peek into the future and magically foresee that a middle-aged woman, wearing only panties depicting Bugs Bunny with a large gray erection, would (for whatever reason) show up at my house on a mini motorbike, quickly become drunk off homemade strawberry wine, and then urinate into my backyard air-conditioning compressor.

6. One last thing: Would you please refrain from taking an oatmeal bath in my guest bedroom, even if you do happen to have a rash on your genitals? I hesitate to even bring this up, but at my last cuddle party—before the state police, the local TV news, and a group of representatives from the Department of Health and Human Services all broke down my front door—a dishwasher on his lunch break from the Old Spaghetti Factory snuck into my kitchen, stole a container of oatmeal, and then took a long, medicated soak in my guest bedroom, which just so happens to not contain a bathroom or a bathtub.

7. Got it? Good! Actually, not good. Wonderful! Because with that “official business” now out of the way, let’s. Do. Some. Serious. Cuddlin’!!!!

Your official “cuddle-party lifeguard,”

Mike

P.S.—Oh, yes: please feel free to help yourself to the deli and
egg-salad spread.

To: All Staff
9:12 AM
Subject: Whoops, Sorry About That Last E-Mail!

I’d just like to apologize for the last e-mail, which I sent to “All Staff.” I meant to send it to my friend Alex Stafford. It was a mistake. Sorry.




To: All Staff
10:14 AM
Subject: Clarification on Apology E-Mail!

I want to apologize for not being entirely clear in my last e-mail. Let me try to be more specific: originally, I was attempting to send my friend Alex Stafford (not All Staff) an e-mail on horses and how I’ve always liked to watch horses run. I then made a leap into the realm of the imaginary. Again, I do apologize.




To: All Staff
11:01 AM
Subject: re: what the fuck?!

Wow. Today just ain’t my day! I’ve been told that I have more “explaining” to do, re: “the realm of the imaginary.” So here goes: I probably should have told you that for the past two years, give or take a few months, I’ve imagined myself as a talking horse and that, as this talking horse, I’ve ruled a fantasy kingdom populated by you guys, my co-workers. The 27 images I included in the first e-mail are, in fact, Photoshop montages, not actual photos. Carry on!




To: All Staff
12:20 PM
Subject: re: You Have More Explaining to Do About Those Images!

There are days and there are days! Perhaps I’m not expressing myself as well as I should. I guess that’s why I’m in accounting and not PR! Okay, let’s start from the very beginning. In this imaginary world I’ve created, I’m a talking horse. Simple. You guys are my servants. All of you have kept your real names, but your “imaginary” selves have taken on new roles in my fantasy land. A quick example:

“Mary Jenkins” from benefits is a fair maiden who was born in a stable and grew up to fall in love with “Chris Topp” from payroll, who works as a candle maker and sleeps behind the bar in the tavern run by “Wayne Harris” from the mailroom, who is secretly seeing “April Kelly” from office services, who works as my “horse girl” and soaps me down every night before I sleep on my bed of hay. Is this making more sense? For the record, all Photoshop images are a combination of photos found on the Internet and your headshots from the company directory. Steve, I’m about ready for lunch if you are.



To: All Staff
1:23 PM
Subject: re: I Feel Violated!!!

Imagine my surprise to return from lunch only to find hundreds of e-mails in the ol’ inbox! Seems that quite a few of you have additional questions concerning the roles that each of you play within my magical fantasy land. Sigh. It’s really quite simple:

“Hope Marks” from the nurse’s office refuses to sleep with “Darryl Russell” from security because Darryl is a centaur (see image #6) and Hope is a unicorn (image #3). “Kathryn Haynes” from marketing has caught wind of this because she was born with over-size ears (image #14) and can hear literally everything. She also tends to walk around the village nude (image #8) and sleep with anyone who happens to be available; in one instance, she cavorts with “Jamie Devine” from payroll by the banks of a river, as “Betsy Schneider” and “Krista Stark” from the cafeteria look on in wonder (image #7). I also look on in wonder (images #4 and #5).

In another instance, “Katy Devine” from special projects climbs to the top of the bell tower that’s located on my castle and makes love to “Doug Benson” from security, as “Jessica McNally” from the nurse’s office braids my tail in a most tender fashion (image #11). She is not wearing a top (image #12) or a bottom (image #13).

Meanwhile, “Alexis Weber” from the front office is an angry dwarf in need of gold. He has just taken on an assignment to kill “Bob Simmons” from purchasing, but only after he has promised “Marina DelGado” from human resources that he will turn her into a good witch by way of a magical spell. This magical spell consists of having sex with a complete stranger (“Mitch Morton,” also from human resources) while riding a white mare, ass-back and fancy free, across a great plane (image #9). The horse, if you haven’t already guessed, is me (image #1). In the background, if you look closely enough, you can just make out “Joe Griggs” from janitorial looking on in wonder (image #2).

Whew! Done! By the way, anyone have the forms for the Milner project? I really need them by this afternoon. Thanks!



To: All Staff
3:12 PM
Subject: re: you’re sick!

Holy cripes! Sometimes I wonder if anyone besides me gets any work done around here! I step away from my desk for two seconds and I come back to discover that a thousand more questions have been posed! Don’t get me wrong: I think it’s super that all of you are taking an active interest in my fantasy kingdom, but my goodness! So let me just tie up one loose end and let me do it real, real quick, because I’ve just been notified that I’ve been fired:

Yes, that is you, “Samantha Rymer” from expenses, standing next to a razzleberry bush in image #15. And yes, Samantha, that is indeed a crown of doves perched atop your head, and no, Samantha, those are not your real breasts (images #16-27).

Everyone up to date? I’m really gonna miss all of you! I feel we’ve become especially close over these past two years! And that even goes for “Marina the Good Witch” from human resources! I honestly did not know that “good witches” could get so angry! LOL!



Your Imaginary Leader Who’s Now Waving Goodbye As Kathy from Security Hangs on Tightly and Rides Him (please see attached image),


Mike the Talking Horse

#1. Instead of kissing you, she sniffs your genitals

#2. After six months together, you still only know him as “071782”

#3. You’re stuck permanently in “fight or flight” mode

#4. You finish each other’s silences

#5. Maury Povich’s people keep wooing you with gift baskets

#6. She’s started couples counseling, with another man

#7. That big line of duct tape down the center of your bed

#8. You keep a “go bag” at his apartment

#9. You fought so much you had to break up your video game rock band

#10. The erotic highlight of your week is “Whip It Out Wednesday”

#11. You think fondly of the sanitation worker who called your butt “redonkulous” this morning

#12. Even your mutual orgasms now tend to be sarcastic

#13. You’re making it work for the sake of her stuffed animals

#14. He stopped turning over his photo of his grandmother before sex

#15. The “L” sounds have returned to “My Wittle Wovemuffin”

#16. You come home to find a trail of rose petals leading to a note that reads, “Went to orgy. Don’t wait up.”

#17. Your “Sleep Numbers” add up to 666

#18. Instead of “I do,” you said “Sure, I guess”

#19. She keeps accidentally stabbing you

#20. Her parents still think you’re the gardener

#21. She only wears her rape whistle around the house

#22. Your kids have started referring to you as “That Man”

#23. To get out of “date night,” you hired a stranger to shoot you in the ass

#24. He kisses you goodbye through a hole in a sheet–he’s not an Orthodox Jew

#25. She’s desperately trying to set you up with her gay friends

#26. For your one-year anniversary, he bought you a copy of He’s Just Not Into You

#27. You’ve started wearing your wedding ring on your middle finger

#28. Your marriage counselor frisks you before each session

#29. Lifetime Television has optioned your relationship for movie rights

#30. You’re saving hygiene for someone who really loves you

#31. Open marriage boundaries have been widened to include divorce

#32. She lost patience with you having to shoot cocaine into your penis before the kids open their Christmas presents

#33. More and more, you’re feeling abandoned. Usually as you run after your wife’s car.

#34. Whenever “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” comes on the radio, you find yourself taking notes

#35. You were traded to another inmate for off-brand cigarettes

#36. She won’t tell you why all her friends call her “The Guzzler”

#37. Hanging above her bed is a framed “Certificate of Completion” for the world’s biggest gangbang

#38. You role-play as “Guy With A Will To Live” and “Girl Who Doesn’t Cry After Sex”

#39. On your birthday, you received a cake that says “We Need To Talk” in black icing

#40. You caught him masturbating to Kramer vs. Kramer

#41. It’s been over a week since you last received food in the basement pit

#42. Every evening, she dusts your genitals for fingerprints

#43. Your respective Christmas stockings say “Shrew” and “Let’s End This Charade, Doug”

#44. Maury Povich’s people keep wooing you with gift baskets

#45. You recently renewed your vows at an OTB

#46. These days, you can barely muster the energy to punch each other

#47. He brought his Gameboy to your abortion

#48. He’s on a first-name basis with the entire staff at Bangkok International Airport

#49. “Dinner” has become throwing a few Lunchables at your head

#50. Your spouse asks for your help writing his or her Nerve profile

#51. You don’t own a pool, but do have a pool boy

#52. Your friends refer to the two of you as “Biggie” and “Tupac”

#53. You deliberately puncture your tires two blocks from your house just to have an excuse to smoke a cigarette and wait for a tow truck

#54. Her dogs hate you, as do her cats, salamanders, trained rats, macaws, ferrets, cousins, high school friends, and hermit crabs

#55. Your response to “Does this shirt make me look fat?” is “No, you make it look fat”

#56. When he kisses you on New Year’s Eve, he says, “Here’s to another bearable year”

#57. Her burly big brother pins you to the ground and makes you hit yourself in the face

#58. The classes you took together for swing dancing and Cambodian stir-fry seem almost useless

#59. You mutually fill-out the Sunday Times crossword through a conflict-resolution expert

#60. She’s a mannequin and you’re the only one who’s seen her come to life

#61. Your partner makes vague, ominous remarks such as, “I’m leaving for my sister’s house on Tuesday morning at 9:30 and never coming back.”

#62 Out of nowhere, the cashier at the grocery says, “Don’t worry, five inches is almost average.”

#63. You’ve awoken each other’s bi-curiosity

#64. After every argument he says, “I wouldn’t have to put up with this if we were in the Taliban.”

#65. His pet name for you is “Chief”

#66. Your bed-and-breakfast weekend ends with a hostage negotiation

#67. Although it’s not a special occasion, you sometimes call just to whisper, “You’ve stolen my youth”

#68. His last name is Montague-McCoy; yours is Capulet-Hatfield

#69. You communicate in sign-language and neither of you are deaf

#70. Your nightly sex has earned pity applause from the neighborhood Peeping Tom

#71. You’re afraid of Virginia Woolf

#72. For some reason, she no longer wants to be saved from her pimp

#73. You sold your hair to buy him a watch fob; he sold your iPod to buy a case of Jagermeister

#74. You’ve been nostalgic lately for your childhood spent in the Killing Fields of Cambodia

#75. It’s been six years already, and you’ve yet to meet his conjoined brother

#76. Your doorbell rings “Taps”

#77. The nightly fight over who gets the top bunk

#78. You finish each others’ sentences with “and I’m a big cry-baby idiot”

#79. Facebook relationship status: “Why me, God?”

#80. At your class reunion, you introduce your partner as “the reason I’m on Paxil.”

#81. While watching The Accused together, your husband turned to you and said, “You know, we should buy a pinball machine for the house.”

#82. He proposed to you on Twitter

#83. Vultures are circling over your gondola ride

#84. Each year on your wedding anniversary he gets another tear-drop tattoo

#85. Your score on the Cosmo compatibility quiz is “Kafkaesque”

#86. Your engagement ring is made of calamari

#87. The parrot won’t stop saying, “I’m sorry, I just can’t go through the motions anymore”

#88. The two of you dress as Claus and Sunny von Bülow for Halloween

#89. Amy Winehouse just wrote a song about you

#90. You never forget to say “I love you.” You just never actually say it.

#91. The two of you are stranded on an island. You both fuck fruit.

#92. I guess women just don’t like nice guys with Little Dutch Boy fetishes

#93. During an appearance on Wife Swap, your first question for your new family was: “Wait . . . where’s my bamboo cage?”

#94. You miss having your dead mother-in-law around as a buffer during the holidays

#95. Your family crest features a cock fight

#96. Your name, tattooed on his chest, has somehow morphed into a Jamaican Bart Simpson

#97. You’ve just finished your first work of fiction: My Wife, the Cunt

#98. At your last Tupperware party, you asked the hostess if she had any containers large enough to hold all of your regrets

#99. This morning you discovered your bicycle built for two had been sawed in half

#100. You’ve started reading How Stella Got Her Groove Back with a highlighter

#101. Your wedding videographer was Joe Francis

#102. You scream “Take That!” during orgasm

#103. You each separately live-blogged your honeymoon

#104. His idea of bringing some adventure into your relationship is “ass to mouth”

#105. Your partner insists on naming all of your children “George Foreman, Jr.”

#106. The last time you argued, Michael Vick had $5,000 riding on it

#107. You can’t vacation in Paris because he just spent all the money on ringtones

#108. He keeps postponing your wedding to catch up on his Tivo queue

#109. She swims nude with the dolphins every chance she gets. The Miami Dolphins.

#110. He spent your vacation fund on his-and-hers Scientology audits

#111. Your pronunciations of the word “potato” are woefully at odds

#112. He thought it would be hilarious to make your first wedding dance “My Ding-A-Ling”

#113. The grotesquely long-nosed man who used to supply your words of love just up and quit on you

#114. The last time you read “The Lockhorns” on the comics page, you just shook your head and said, “They don’t know how good they’ve got it.”

#115. Your wedding has been pushed back from June to “Not If You Fucking Paid Me”

#116. You start indulging in behaviors you know will irritate your partner—belching, smoking, human trafficking

#117. Your wedding vows were written by Eugene O’Neill / Edward Albee / Joan Didion

#118. You met two years ago at a masquerade party, and she still refuses to remove her mask

#119. Only three weeks into your relationship and you’re starting to feel like you’re the kidnapping victim

#120. He informs you that you are now the property of his old boss, based on last night’s poker game

#121. “How was work?” “You’re not my goddamn mother, okay?”

#122. It’s no longer “good enough” that you only work one night a month at Starbucks

#123. When he kisses you on New Year’s Eve, he says, “Here’s to another good week”

#124. “Did you say ‘feed’ your cat? It sounded a lot like ‘euthanize.’”

#125. You’re bitterly jealous of the people who are sad and unloved on Valentine’s Day

#126. You’re a member of ’70s-era Fleetwood Mac

#127. Last time you made the beast with two backs, it attacked and killed a neighbor’s dog

#128. He’s a Shriner, and lately he’s been shrinin’ till all hours

#129. You have make-up sex after make-up sex

#130. Your couples therapist recommended electroshock

#131. Your bullying goes totally unappreciated

#132. The best man at your wedding was Joey Buttafuoco

#133. The only thing keeping you together is your shared passion for pewter

#134. You go to the zoo just to cock-block the animals that mate for life

#135. You start indulging in behaviors you know will irritate your partner–belching, smoking, human trafficking

#136. Of the things you like to do in bed, sex ranks close to “night sweating after a garlic binge”

#137. His Borat impressions during sex aren’t cute anymore

#138. You’re Paula Abdul; he’s MC Skat Kat

#139. You flush the slightest irreplaceable heirloom down the toilet, and your girlfriend gets all huffy

#140. When you reach for her in bed, she cringes and says, “Your touch is like the pitiless touch of the Reaper.”

#141. After every argument he says, “I wouldn’t have to put up with this if we were in the Taliban.”

#142. Despite everything, you sometimes can’t help gazing at your beloved as she sleeps. Roofies are awesome.

#143. He wants to name your firstborn “Saddam”

#144. Whenever you have friends over for dinner, they arrive wearing Kevlar vests

#145. Only three weeks into your relationship and you’re starting to feel like you’re the kidnapping victim, not her

#146. The “sandwich” she’s named after you: a Vienna sausage loosely placed in an oversized Pita pocket

#147. You’re going to tape this list onto your refrigerator

–with Scott Jacobson, Todd Levin, Jason Roeder, and Ted Travelstead

#1. “Sorry I’m late. I could have sworn you said ‘San Francisco.’”

#2. [Winking] “Golly, I have no idea how that ten dollar bill just appeared on your desk.”

#3. “Can we wrap this up? I’d really hate to hit rush hour.”

#4. “Just out of curiosity, how long do you caché visited websites?”

#5. “Do me a kindness, and scratch beneath my carpal-tunnel splints?”

#6. “My work ethic is so strong, it’s practically Asian.”

#7. “Let’s try that again, and this time shake my hand like you’ve got a pair.”

#8. “Would it possible to be paid in cash? I’m kind of laying low right now.”

#9. “Do I have any questions? Why, yes I do. What in the hell is this Microsoft Word everyone keeps talking about?”

#10. “You got a bottle opener in that big ol’ fancy drawer?”

#11. “My last boss hid spy-cameras in the crapper. Look me in the eye and promise you won’t do that.”

#12. “Ever seen that Sharon Stone scene in Basic Instinct? Allow me to refresh your memory . . .”

#13. “My motto: Work hard, play hard—or as the Nazis might say, Arbeit Macht Frei.”

#14. “Lemme just finish scooping out this pumpkin, and then I’ll get to your questions.”

#15. “Hold on–almost lost it in my diaper. Ha ha! (whispering) Nerves.”

#16. “Does this DYKE tattoo on my forehead conform with your dress code?”

#17. “Think of me as the Hamburger Helper to your skillet of ground workload.”

#18. “I’m just looking to make one last big score before I get out of the game. And I’d love to do that right here at Applebee’s.”

#19. “Funny, everyone who reads my resume always hones right in on the manslaughter part.”

#20. “What has two thumbs and totally loves commodities trading? This guy!”

#21. “Oh, I see. But it’s fine if a black person like you says it.”

#22. “Before we begin, how fucking hot was Dr. McDreamy last night?”

#23. “Sorry, I have to answer this. Could be a job.”

#24. “Is that a picture of your family? Your wife’s uterus must be totally blown out.”

#25.“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is it you all do here at NASA?”

#26. “Wouldn’t it be more fun if we conducted this interview on my lap?”

#27. “Help a brother out. I’ve been out of work so long I’ve got blue balls for this gig.”

#28. “Do you have a mint? I’m pretty sure my breath is still stanky from last night’s lovin’.”

#29. “I’m not big on couches. Cool if I cop a squat?”

#30. “You’ve got the body. I’ve got the brains.”

#31. “For my personal reference, is it okay if I only know the guy’s Xbox gamer tag?”

#32. “I bet you’ll be chuffed to know you’d be hiring an extremely skilled knife fighter.”

#33. “I can explain that three-year gap in my employment history with two simple words: H.O.R.D.E. Tour”

#34. “If you Google me, just be forewarned that there’s a sexual predator who happens to share my name and Facebook page.”

#35. “Sure, I value a diverse workplace. Your kind deserves a leg up.”

#36. “I’m just going to apologize in advance for the projectile vomiting. It’s okay–I brought my own sick-bag.”

#37. “What time is it? Four? Shit! Where’s the closest airport?”

#38. “Before we begin, would you mind if I cranked ‘Lose Yourself’?”

#39. “Just out of curiosity, is that sore on my forehead still running?”

#40. “You’re not going to make me take one of those fucking anger management seminars, are you?”

#41. “Mind if I bunk here ‘til I straighten my housing situation out?”

#42. “What part of ‘I’ve never held a job for more than three days’ don’t you understand?”

#43. “Realistically, how much weight can your desk support?”

#44. “As far as long-term goals go, I’d just love to own an electric toothbrush.”

#45. “Can we put this on speakerphone? My lawyer wants to be involved.”

#46. “I think I can best answer that with the following tambourine solo.”

#47. “If I smell like deep-dish pizza, it’s just because I love it so goddamn much.”

#48. “Let’s just cut straight to the chase: who and where is the office slut?”

#49. “I’m assuming you’ll pay me for watching my stories at lunch?”

#50. “My qualifications? Isn’t that one of those prejudicial questions you’re not allowed to ask?”

#51. “You don’t have like three dollars, do you? I’ll hit you back when you hire me.”

#52. “It’s called a waggle dance, and it’s my way of saying, ‘Make me your worker bee!’”

#53. “You should probably keep your distance. I’ve been targeted by the Mossad.”

#54. “I don’t like to brag about competitive offers, but let’s just say I’ve had some interest from a company that rhymes with Flurger Cling.”

#55. “When I said a retard could do this job, of course I meant a highly functioning retard.”

#56. “I’d like to put the ‘Christ’ back in ‘AT&T.’”

#57. “I look forward to joining the team, and eventually humiliating you into an early retirement.”

#58. “If the preparation instructions for Lean Cuisine lasagna count as a book, then, yes, I have a favorite book.”

#59. “You’re over there actin’ like the biggest bull in the train yard, and here I’m the one been crowned Hobo King!”

#60. “To be honest, as soon as I earn enough money for my calf implants, I’m gone.”

#61. “Can I keep this pen? How about this lamp? This phone?”

#62 “It’s not that I prefer to work independently; it always just seems to end up that way.”

#63. (Noticing framed diploma) “Hey, that was my safety school!”

#64. (Noticing second diploma) “And hey! That was my safety grad-school!”

#65. “I’ll take off the hat when the Cubbies win the Series, and not a day sooner.”

#66. “I didn’t finish college but, don’t worry–I didn’t start it, either.”

#67. “I think you’ll find I’m a real team player, as long as no one touches my hair.”

#68. “I can type three words a minute. (Deep computer voice) Go. To. Hell.”

#69. “I just need to make enough money to stop hating myself for selling out.”

#70. “It’s not that I’m unwilling to travel, it’s just this whole statute of limitations thing.”

#71. “I guess I should’ve proofread my resume more carefully. I’m actually ‘Sara’ without an ‘h’.”

#72. “What you can’t get from reading my resume is all the stuff I deliberately omitted.”

#73. “Does your health plan cover abortions? If so, can I start today?”

#74. “Does it always smell like onion dip in here?”

#75. “I have excellent problem-solving skills . . . or, as my previous employer liked to call it, ‘an amazing left hook.’”

#76. (pulling out ear bud) “Cool if we start in a sec? I’m listening to ‘Sex Type Thing’ and it’s right where STP goes effin’ nuts.”

#77. “What do you think of my monocle? Choose your words very carefully.”

#78. “As any of my co-workers can tell you, I forward the best Internet links.”

#79. “I’m devoting tonight’s blog entry to the problems with your teeth.”

#80. “Yes, I’m that Scooter Libby.”

#81. “I have interpersonal skills out the poop shoot.”

#82. “Isn’t it festive? It’s a probation-tracking-bracelet.”

#83. “The irony is that people say I look stupid in my Mensa T-shirt.”

#84. “I emerged from my 30-year coma and came straight here.”

#85. “Do you believe in fairies? How about if they’re evil?”

#86. “I’ll work as many hours as it takes to make you notice how many hours I’m working.”

#87. “If I could be any historical figure, I suppose I’d be Skeletor.”

#88. “Instead of all this chit-chat, can’t we just enjoy a comfortable silence?”

#89. “I really look forward to abandoning my dreams at your corporation.”

#90. “Each of my personalities will require its own compensation package.”

#91. “Will the office have room for my steel drums?”

#92. “I’ve yet to encounter an employee dispute that can’t be resolved with a tickle fight.”

#93. “When work flow gets stressful, I’ll just close my eyes, take a deep breath, and totally fucking go off.”

#94. “My ideal supervisor would be a surrogate for the Mommy who never had time for me.”

#95. “How’s it feel to be in the presence of a squash champion?”

#96. “Man, I can almost smell your money from here.”

#97. “I work incredibly well under pressure . . . as long as I don’t cheek my meds.”

#98. “I didn’t go to business school, but I do know every line from The Secret to My Success by heart.”

#99. “Why do you have a typewriter connected to your TV set?”

#100. “Can you believe they’re touring again? Who? WHO?! THE FUCKING EAGLES! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK??!!!”

#101. “Full disclosure: I have a hamster. Will my workspace be Habitrail-friendly?”

#102. “Where I come from, that kind of question can get you shot.”

#103. “See this? It’s a clitoris stud. Deal with it.”

#104. “Wanna see my hand jive?”

#105. “Do you have a secret prison in the basement like they do at Disney World?”

#106. “I’ll bet that desk of yours could tell some stories . . . stories about ferocious fucking.”

#107. (reaching in pocket) “Slice of bacon?”

#108. “Is it cool if I live-blog this interview?”

#109. “I have one more special skill not listed on my résumé and I can show it to you now, if you’ll just draw the curtains.”

–with Todd Levin, Jason Roeder, and Ted Travelstead

#1. Pajama ass-flap keeps flopping open adorably

#2. Keep hitting speed bumps

#3. Hide-a-Bed too well hidden

#4. Larry King won’t stop snoring

#5. Can’t get those Nazi war crimes out of your head

#6.
 That roast beef sub you found in the bus station bathroom just ain’t sitting right

#7. Person in next hostel bunk won’t stop screaming out in Afrikaans

#8. Severed horse head is hogging the covers

#9. Couldn’t turn down that third helping of cocaine

#10. Some woman keeps having sex with you

#11. Mistakenly set white noise machine to “Panicked Cattle at Slaughterhouse”

#12. 
Overcome by polar bear guilt

#13.
 You’ll sleep when you’re dead, or in 20 minutes—whichever comes first

#14. Breast and ass implants make it difficult to 
find a comfortable sleeping position

#15.
 Determined to watch every last bit of cheetah-attack footage on YouTube

#16. Seems like a waste of a hooker, no?

#17. You smoke in bed—specifically, hickory bacon

#18. Because people keep barging into your 
ATM vestibule

#19. 
Next door neighbor is hosting a live performance of Drumline

#20. Discovered the Magic Fingers bed you’ve been enjoying has never actually been plugged in

#21. “Hey, asshole! It’s a Shaggin’ Wagon, not a Sleepin’ Jeep!”

#22. You’re the world’s biggest fan of whatever piece of shit is on TV at 3:00 a.m.

#23. Kitschy Virgin Mary night-light from Urban Outfitters suddenly seems in poor taste

#24. Monkey on your back, figuratively, and—for some bizarre reason—literally

#25. Tomorrow you will finally realize your life-long dream: sex with Richard Belzer

#26. Too many high school grudges to settle

#27. Filled humidifier with Red Bull

#28. Keep rolling off roof

#29. Staying up one more hour to see how Ron Popeil will blow your mind this time

#30. Constantly interrupted by Christmas ghosts

#31. Pillow is stuffed with bad checks written to the mob

#32.

 Still pumped from John Stossel’s latest “Give Me a Break” segment

#33.
 Recurring nightmares about Sting and his lute

#34. Cage is too small

#35. Neighbor has his car alarm sensitivity set at “Gentle Breeze”

#36. Aliens never seem to run out of things to learn from your rectum

#37. Don’t want to lose place in line for Hannah Montana tickets

#38. Free futon you found behind Applebee’s not the boon you first imagined

#39. New perm too tight

#40. The dream catcher above your bed is on the fritz

#41. Homemade meth is a titch too strong

#42. Trying to catch “Open 24-hrs” Laundromat in a lie

#43. Waiting for Yes keyboard solo to end

#44. Sweating out a garlic binge

#45. Your floor plan: living room, LaGuardia 
runway, bedroom

#46. Still a little nervous about the wine glass on the corner of the Tempur-Pedic

#47. Because if you don’t live-blog the 3:30 a.m. M.A.S.H. rerun, who the hell will?

#48.
 The man next to you on the Greyhound just whispered in your ear: “If you’re tired, you can rest your mouth on my genitals.”

#49. The manufacturers of Sleepytime Tea are a bunch of dirty fucking liars

#50. By not sleeping, have seven extra hours each day to drive through store windows

#51. The walls are so thin, you can hear your neighbors arguing about your racist lawn ornaments

#52. Have a feeling tonight will be the night you finally pull the trigger on that Proactiv Solution

#53. Shouldn’t have eaten that last bowl of deep-fried duck embryos from Chinatown

#54. Magic Eightball keeps requesting you to 
“ask again later”

#55. The Land of Nod is actually a total shithole

#56. Haven’t changed your Facebook status in almost three hours

#57. Clinging for dear life to a piece of flotsam

#58. Restless tongue syndrome

#59. Big baby need new diaper and bottle to go night-night

#60. Won’t sleep until you finish reading the 
latest Borowitz Report entry, even if it takes 
all freakin’ night

#61. Turns out Adderall tastes a lot like Mike and Ikes

#62. Cable guy is supposed to arrive between midnight and four

#63. Saw something on Dateline about how sleeping causes kidney failure

#64. Fallujah Hilton is not as you remember it

#65. Keeping yourself up by repeatedly saying out loud, “Mrs. Bret Michaels”

#66. Crawled into tent to discover Charlie Sheen rolling on a condom

#67. Tomorrow you’re telling your handicapped son he’s adopted and loved a little less than the others

#68. Because somewhere, right now, homosexuals are engaging in sodomy

#69. You just had to take that voodoo priest’s parking spot, didn’t you?

#70. Pancake griddle no substitute for heating pad

#71. Roommate practicing his Tuvan throat singing

#72. Biohazard suit a tad too warm

#73. Your hammock is suspended over the mouth of a volcano

#74. Still trying to figure out what you’re supposed to think of Diablo Cody

#75. 
Your brain wants to sleep but your body wants to get rid of all that corn liquor

#76. Keep forgetting the chorus to “Safety Dance”

#77. Your man didn’t love you right

#78. Can’t remember where you put that baby

#79. Had eyelids removed to appear more youthful and alert

#80. Thinking about how sweet life’s going to be once you’re a Suicide Girl

#81. Perfecting the line “Now give me the meat hammer” for tomorrow’s porn shoot

#82. Should have never ordered Ambien from Craigslist

#83. Keep hearing the heartbeat of a guy buried alive in the wall

#84. Still feel you have to sit in front of Best Buy all night to get a PlayStation 3

#85. Plotting next moves in your 14 simultaneous games of Scrabulous

#86. Sudoku

#87. Dad claimed there are no monsters under the bed “because the real monsters lurk inside our hearts”

#88. New cellmate is kind of handsy

#89. Impatiently awaiting news of Ace of Base reunion

#90. In hindsight, shouldn’t have filled the water bed with moray eels

#91. The telethon’s not going to watch itself

#92. Still trying to think of a better comeback than “Yeah, well, that’s merely your opinion, Simon Cowell!”

#93. You wet your sleeping bag

#94. Suddenly realized you chose the path most traveled

#95. Stupid baby in your stomach keeps trying to get born

#96. Having second thoughts about green-lighting “Untitled Tom Sizemore Project”

#97. That guard won’t stop shining his goddamn flashlight in your eyes

#98.
 Contract with the devil expired 45 minutes ago

#99. 
Still haunted by Prince of Tides

#100. Really half-assed that customer-service comment card at Taco Bell

#101. Husband always insisting on the top bunk

#102. By your calculations, there’s a 30 percent chance Freddy Kruger really does exist

#103. Anxious over whether wife and mistress will notice each other on the mattress

#104. Your parakeet is retarded and a little more chatty than necessary

#105. Stressing over big interview with assistant manager at mall jellybean store

#106. Obsessive thoughts/samurai armor weighing heavily on you

#107. Midnight was a bad time to finish that hot dog–eating contest

#108. Living as a stowaway inside Neil Peart’s bass drum

#109. Napped for about 15 hours in the afternoon

#110. Too curious if people are falling for your “Open Eyes” gag glasses

#111. Can’t stop worrying about Britney

#112. Maybe you’d be able to sleep if the GODDAMN ROOM WOULD STOP SPINNING FOR ONE LOUSY LITTLE MINUTE!

#113. Watched Kirk Cameron documentary on evolution before bed

#114. Every time you close your eyes, your roommate punches you in the face

#115. “Buddy, you pissed off the wrong bounty hunter.”

#116. Fascinated by rising bubbles in your dentures glass

#117. Sure, you’ve got TiVo, but it’s not the same as seeing that ShamWow infomercial in real-time

#118. Orangutan side-kick keeps making raspberries and flipping us off

#119. Lost in the fantasy of being Stallone’s son

#120. You try sleeping on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange!

#121. Mind buzzing with new strategies of how to seduce Anna Wintour

#122. When lying down, can’t resist the temptation to levitate

#123. Shouldn’t have caught the Faces of Death marathon on cable

#124. Turns out, fried calamari and Nutella do not mix well

#125. Can’t get those goddamn ice skates off

–With Scott Jacobson, Todd Levin, Jason Roeder, and Ted Travelstead

#1. Deployment orders to Iraq

#2. A litter of feral cats

#3. A postcard that reads: “On vacation in Bahamas. Will send gift from airport.”

#4. The pamphlet: Healthy Hygiene Habits That Benefit Everyone!

#5. Your business card

#6. Your grandmother’s invaluable gold bracelet that was hidden away just before she perished in the Holocaust

#7. A monogrammed bedroom aid you once bought at a stoop sale

#8. One developmentally-delayed foster child

#9. The handful of change you received after buying your real presents

#10. A Homer Simpson cookie jar that “defecates” Oreos

#11. Swift, pitiless justice

#12. A “Sex Machine” vanity license-plate for your co-worker’s wheelchair

#13. A book of “Love Coupons,” non-redeemable outside of your cubicle

#14. $500 cash in a paper sack

#15. A Google Earth shot of the recipient’s childhood home

#16. VIP status in the office fridge

#17. Your own 900-page handwritten tome of “Bush-isms”

#18. A Kevlar vest

#19. The entire Life Goes On series on DVD, with a special commentary track from Chris Burke and Chad Lowe

#20. A festive red, green and white cock ring

#21. A handful of those amazing over-the-counter painkillers your company has just manufactured, pre-FDA approval

#22. Your homemade candied placenta

#23. The surveillance videotape that got you fired, just before you successfully sued for sex-addiction discrimination

#24. A $1 gift-certificate to The Dollar Store

#25. A hardcover edition of We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Shall Be Killed With Our Families: Stories from Rwanda, by Philip Gourevitch, with the inscription: “Hope Your Christmas is Just Terrific!”

#26. A soap dispenser, freshly ripped from the men’s room wall

#27. A huggy-pillow fashioned after Munch’s “The Scream”

#28. Unnecessary surgery

#29. A “vintage” Ray Parker Jr. concert t-shirt

#30. A necklace strung from “Charlie Ears,” a souvenir your Dad brought back from ‘Nam

#31. Breadsticks from lunch

#32. A mouse pad that reads: “Cunning Linguist”

#33. A $10 donation, in the recipient’s name, to your teen’s college-fund

#34. Long-overdue parking tickets you’ve been stealing since last Christmas from the gift recipient’s windshield

#35. A book of solved New York Times crossword puzzles, with the answers whited out

#36. A few paper plates that read, “It’s Joshua’s Bar Mitzvah!!!”

#37. A motorized dancing Santa programmed only with songs by the Gary Cherone-led Van Halen

#38. A lucky penny

#39. A handwritten coupon “Good for One Free Erotic Back Rub!!!”

#40. The very first draft of your very first screenplay

#41. A 24-hour lift on URLs blocked by your company’s firewall for “inappropriate content”

#42. A nacho-cheese-scented candle

#43. A pastel drawing of your co-worker innocently sleeping in her own bed

#44. A box of novelty penis-shaped pasta, with a can of alfredo sauce

#45. A bedazzled carpal-tunnel wrist brace

#46. “Most Enthusiastic Archer, Camp Seagull 1983” trophy

#47. A set of place mats, each depicting a different stage in the manufacture of fish sticks

#48. A box of fancy Ecuadorian coffee-enemas

#49. A VHS copy of the 1994 remake of Miracle on 34th Street, with a note to “return to library after finishing, thanks.”

#50. Whatever happens to be available in the vending machine

#51. Thong panties with your corporate logo

#52. A firm handshake and a sincere, “Happy Holidays”

#53. A mug with your dog’s profile on it

#54. An event calendar from the 2006 New Yorker Festival, framed

#55. A jarful of sand from your recent Jersey Shore vacation

#56. Two-pounds of Chex-Mix, your own special recipe (made with just a “touch” of mayo)

#57. A copy of the “I REALLY MISS U & NEED U BACK!!!” cassette you mixed for your college ex

#58. Jose Cuervo sweatpants

#59. A Nissan Stanza with 216,000 miles and no tires

#60. A specially-bound leather photo album containing black and white photos of yourself, after-hours, making special use of each of your co-workers’ chairs

#61. One gently used home-pregnancy test

#62. A PB&J with the crust lovingly cut off

#63. Walking up to a co-worker and saying “You got that eye of the tiger,” then walking away

#64. Notes you took from that morning’s Price Is Right

#65. Baby booties with little bells attached for the child your boss would have had if she weren’t such a selfish careerist bitch

#66. A tab of herbal ecstasy

#67. A “World’s Horniest Human Resources Director” mug

#68. An escape-route placard stolen from a door at the Red Roof Inn

#69. Whatever that old lady had in her purse last night

#70. For the lone Muslim co-worker, a crucifix with a note that reads: “He died for your sins most of all.”

#71. A list of death-row inmates in desperate need of holiday pen-pals

#72. An invitation to squeeze your biceps free of charge (once)

#73. A few particles of golden glitter that rubbed off on you during a recent lap dance

#74. A mitten full of puddin’

#75. The Bible in graphic-novel form with “choice passages” highlighted

#76. That beige cardigan the receptionist used to wear before she died

#77. A note that reads:“Hint: Your Breath All Stanky”

#78. A Ziploc bag filled with a generous portion of room-temperature eggnog

#79. The entire Homies miniature doll collection, including quite a few repeats

#80. A life-long subscription to The Watchtower

#81. Nothin’, ‘cause you don’t believe in all that crap surrounding such a “bullshit holiday”

#82. A strand of tinsel you pulled from your aging mother’s esophagus

#83. A Kit Kat diced and sliced into 30 or so pieces and then dumped into a shoebox that you now refer to as “assorted holiday chocolates”

#84. A hand-painted figurine of an angel freebasing

#85. One hamster, two tiny reindeer horns

#86. Jingle Bells: The Remixes, As Sung by the Baha Men

#87. The instruction booklet for changing the printer cartridge, “personalized” with your co-worker’s name inserted into every sentence

#88. A partially stamped Subway “Sub Club” card

#89. A sexy-as-hell chalk drawing of the gals in accounts receivable

#90. The actual sunglasses Kurt Russell wore in Captain Ron

#91. Deliberately misleading information on the transmission of HIV

#92. A jumbo bottle of Old Grand-Dad Whiskey, with the note, “For when you fall off the wagon!”

#93. A CD-ROM good for 100 free hours on AOL

#94. An autographed photo from Jon Favreau

#95. A trial-size bottle of coconut-scented “love” oil

#96. Three grapes to be transferred directly from your mouth into the recipient’s

#97. A bolo tie fashioned from an old computer mouse

#98. Your own replica lightsaber “because I saw how you were eyeing mine”

#99. A $25 gift-certificate to Planned Parenthood

#100. One corn holder, one earplug, and one chopstick

#101. Blueprints of your office building with key “security and infrastructure vulnerabilities” highlighted

#102. “Absolutely nothing, since I worked for what I have and believe others should, too”

#103. A punch in the face. Because of that laugh. That laugh like nails on a fucking chalkboard. Jesus.

#104. A two-day hot-air-balloon ride with Garrison Keillor

#105. The complete, unabridged copy of Moby Dick, printed on your company’s LaserJet

#106. Because you know just how much the person adores Jon Cryer on Two and a Half Men, a revolver and a single bullet

#107. Britney’s kids

#108. The following note: “There is a rickshaw waiting for you outside of our office. Remember how I once promised I’d make you one? Well? What. Are. You. Waiting. For???”

#109. A poster of “The Kramer”

#110. A handful of forks you grabbed from the Quiznos across the street

#111. 45 minutes of you rationalizing about going off your diet

#112. A Christmas magnetic poetry kit featuring only four words: “I,” “Mrs.,” “Claus,” and “catheterize.”

#113. A half-square in the AIDS quilt

#114. A tiny pink Baskin-Robbins spoon with just the cutest scoop of vanilla ice cream

#115. A rape whistle

#116. On the person’s answering machine: Andy Rooney condemning light bulbs

#117. A SaveDarfur.com koosh ball

#118. A video of you playing air-guitar to “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”

#119. One lovingly gift-wrapped I.U.D.

#120. Your 200-page novel about the dissolution of a marriage that “could really use some line edits”

#121. An “Every Day is Earth Day” reusable grocery bag

#122. A damaged Netflix copy of Christmas with the Kranks

#123. The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Amazing Sex, with key positions circled and annotated

#124. One Triscuit

#125. A 10-minute conference call with Andy Dick and Crispin Glover

#126. Photos of a male co-worker passed out with “Cock Tits Steve” written on his face in lipstick

#127. A videotape of every shower you’ve taken since last December

#128. The contents of your desk, in a cardboard box, with a big ol’ fancy bow on it

#129. An almost-full bottle of liquid Methadone

#130. A note that reads: “Um, you’re not fired. That’s your fucking Christmas present.”

–with Scott Jacobson, Todd Levin, and Teddy Wayne