From My Outbox

Separated at Birth Returns

Solace of the Elderly

Politics, Outside and In

Beta Guy at Woodstock

[Beta Guy stops his 1960's Toyota Camry-equivalent in a field relatively far away from the concert site, hesitantly gets out of his car but does not lock it]
[Some attractive hippies are walking by him, toward the concert]

Beta Guy: Hi I was thinking of parking here and I was wondering I guess I have two questions - one, is it legal to park here, and two, is there some sort of shuttle bus situation because I have this back thing and it looks kinda far?

[Attractive Hippie Girl blows weed smoke in Beta Guy's face]
[Two Attractive Hippie Guys lock arms with Beta Guy and start skipping toward the concert with him in between them]

Beta Guy (looking back at car): I, uh, I don't think I locked the car so maybe I should just--

Attractive Hippie Guy: --Just follow the music, man




[Beta Guy and Attractive Hippies arrive at concert]
[Attractive Hippies leave Beta Guy]
[A Hippie Scalper approaches Beta Guy]

Hippie Scalper: Hey man, a hundred bucks for a ticket. Face value.

Beta Guy: Well, seeing as how it's the last day of the festival and that ticket price is supposed to cover three days, why don't we say thirty-three dollars?

Hippie Scalper: A hundred bucks - it's face value, my brother.

Beta Guy: Right, but it's face value for three days and I'm only getting one day.

Hippie Scalper: What's your problem, man?

Beta Guy: Alright, fine. Here you go (begrudgingly handing Hippie Scalper $100 bill)
[Hippie Scalper gives Beta Guy ticket]

[Beta Guy enters concert grounds]
[In front of him is an orgy of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll]

Naked Hippie Woman: SOMEBODY FUCK ME! I NEED TO GET FUCKED RIGHT NOW!

[A smile crosses Beta Guy's face]
[Beta Guy takes his pants off, folds them. He begins to take his tighty-whities off when... a Male Hippie starts having sex with the Naked Hippie Woman]
[Beta Guy sheepishly gets dressed]

[Two young guys stumble Beta Guy]
Beta Guy: Hi, um excuse me. I was wondering if, since you guys seem to be "trippin' balls", you knew where I could, perhaps, procure a couple tabs?

Young Guy 1: Dude, what the fuck is this guy talking about?

Young Guy 2: Just feel the music, man.
[Young Guy 2 flashes peace sign and the two Young Guys walk off]

[Onstage, Jimi Hendrix is performing "The Star-Spangled Banner"]
[Beta Guy walks closer to the stage]

[An Athletic Hippie Guy starts crowd-surfing. He's being passed around, and is headed toward Beta Guy]
[Beta Guy tries to move out of the way... no luck. Beta Guy tries to support the Athletic Hippie Guy, to no avail. Athletic Hippie Guy falls on top of Beta Guy]

Beta Guy: My back!

Hippie Girl: Far ouuuuut. Pile on!

Beta Guy: That may sound like fun, but I don't think it's a very good idea bec--
[dozens of Hippies pile on Beta Guy and Athletic Hippie]

Beta Guy: OK, THIS IS NOT COOL! WHERE'S MY FUCKING CHAPSTICK?! WHERE IS IT?! MY LIPS ARE GETTING SLIGHTLY DRYYYYYYY!

First Date with a Na'vi Princess

[I have phone to my ear]
Me: This is fucking amazing! I can't believe I'm going on a date with a Na'vi princess! What? Oh yeah, I'll give you the deets on that crazy ponytail-docking sex for sure. Oh dude, I think she just got here - later.

[Na'vi princess is looking around the restaurant]

Me: Hey, are you Neytiri?

Neytiri: Yep. And you must be Dan.

Me: It's great to meet you.

[I stick out my hand for a handshake, then decide that a hug is in order. Neytiri and I do a distant, butt sticking out half-hug. We both sit down at the table]

Me: So you went to Brown, right?

Neytiri: What? No, I've lived my whole life on Pandora. I just got to Earth a few months ago.

Me: Oh, got it. I just thought that might be where you knew Anna from.

Neytiri: No, Anna and I are in the same yoga class.

Me: Downward Dog!

[long pause]

Me: How's Anna doing these days? I heard she was gonna do the whole corporate law thing for a few years, pay back the loans, and then move to a non-profit like she always wanted. Greenpeace, I think. No, no - the ACLU.

Neytiri: Maybe - we don't really talk about that stuff in class.

[long pause]

Me: Isn't the decor here cool? The floorboards are from an old warehouse.
[no response]
Me: In Brooklyn.
[no response]
Me: It's a meme!

Neytiri: What's a meme?

Me: (sigh)

Alex Jacob Resurfaces!

He has long been presumed dead, but my sources in Hollywood tell me that poker ace and former Delino contributor Alex Jacob is alive and well... and starring in a new NBC comedy series this fall. It's called et Al, and Alex apparently plays a Latin teacher (named Al, of course) who gives up his high-flying poker career to teach Latin in a small Kansas town. Check out the one-sheet:

Guy Who Was Late in Getting Around to Organizing Haiti Relief Benefit Party

Guy Who Was Late in Getting Around to Organizing Haiti Earthquake Relief Benefit Party: Alright guys, I know I should have done this like weeks ago, but whatever. This Saturday, I've rented out the entire back room at Dive Bar for a kick-ass benefit party for those poor Haitians who lost everything in the earthquake. We're gonna have a sweet time, and help some Haitians!

Friend 1: Uhh, dude. Did you not hear about this? There was an earthquake in Chile two days ago. Fuckin' 8.8 on the Richter scale. One of the biggest ever. Over 700 dead already. They're the ones who really need help now.

Guy Who Was Late in Getting Around to Organizing Haiti Earthquake Relief Benefit Party: Are you fucking kidding me?! Can't one fucking 3rd-world shit-hole stay on the minds of these ADD Millenial motherfuckers who comprise my social scene for more than a couple weeks. I mean Jesus! I had a lot of shit to take care of what with the ski weekend at my parents' house in January, and then February there was the Super Bowl and President's Day - it's not my fault I didn't throw this thing earlier. Fuck fuck fuck! I already made the deposit at Dive Bar, which is nonrefundable of course, and I bought all these Haitian-themed decorations. Goddamn these Chilean motherfuckers!!!

(Guy Who Was Late in Getting Around to Organizing Haiti Earthquake Relief Benefit Party notices his friends are staring at him in shock)

Guy Who Was Late in Getting Around to Organizing Haiti Earthquake Relief Benefit Party: No, that's not what I mean. Of course we all know the real tragedy is this earthquake in Chile, and the one in Haiti. It's just so sad to see these poor people lose everything. Lose it all. Everything they have. Much, much sadder than, say, losing a deposit of a grand. Or blowing two hundred bucks on voodoo dolls and cocktail umbrellas. Yes, infinitely sadder, certainly.

The Hipster-i-fication of working class professions

So I went to a butcher shop in Williamsburg the other day to get some meat for a little gathering at a friend's house. I walk in, scan some meats, and when I look up at the butcher to order some chorizo, I see a fucking sub-Wesleyan hipster. "Hey dude, what would you like today?" he asks sweetly. "We have some culatello from Northern Italy and a fine capacola sausage from the isle of Sicily. Try some - no charge, bro." You're telling me what to do?

Here's what I want you to do, bro - I want you to stop taking a job in a working-class profession, and for all your hipster buddies to do likewise. When I walk into a butcher shop, I want to be greeted by a gruff, brusque, downright scary guy who stopped going to school in 10th grade and couldn't tell the difference between Flaubert and Clifford the Big Red Dog, who doesn't have a fucking clue where any of the meat comes from but can cut a perfect slice of meat in the way that trade workers for centuries have learned one physical thing really well but have no pretensions to being engaged with the world of ideas. While you're at it, tell your hipster bartender friends that I want my bartenders to be named Jack and say, "the usual, Danny?" even if I lose out on learning about some great microbrews (which seriously crushes my inner yupster spirit, but so be it). Try it- no charge, bro.

Story about my Roots

My Great-Great Grandfather Jakov Berger was a peasant in a shtetl on the Polish/Russian border. One time when he was about my age, a friend of his told him the adage that successful Jewish businessmen of the day were fond of bandying about - "Dress British, think Yiddish." Jakov was dyslexic, hard of hearing, and not terribly bright, but he had big dreams, so he tried to take this lesson to heart:











He died penniless, but he was buried in one of the heaviest, wooliest, Jew-iest coats ever produced at that time, so he was a happy man.