Tuesday, November 09, 2004
I usually like to do email posts at the end of the week. I don’t know why, but it just feels right. What better way to end the week than by sharing some of your feedback? That is, aside from going to happy hour with your co-workers and trying to make out with the pregnant one?
But I’ve been really dragging my feet recently in this department (the emails, not the trying to make out with pregnant co-worker – she shouldn’t be at happy hour anyway).
I don’t want to give the impression that when I do an email post, I sit back and let you guys do all the work. On the contrary, it’s very hard for me to do these posts, as I have formulate answers to the serious questions posed to me, like, “What gives you the runs more often – Chinese or Mexican?” [Chinese] and “What’s the best method of birth control?” [Fucking a dude] and “I just turned 18, my breasts are too large and wonderful for my slim waist, and I really want to meet a quasi-celebrity. What should I do?” [Cash the $8000 check I’m sending you and move to NYC to live with me so we can spend all day and night slow-dancing].
I’ve tried to do this post on the past couple of Fridays, but I’ve been out of the office (at least partially) for four of the last five Fridays. So you’re getting it on a Tuesday, because I finally have the goddamn time.
Also, I’ve been terrible at managing emails. It’s just too damn many. I’m not saying this to impress you, I’m saying this to both apologize for my delayed responses and also to get you to stop, damn it (unless nude/compromising pictures are involved – WOMEN ONLY). Until an intern is hired, I’m afraid I’m going to be a very bad emailer. My apologies.
So anyway, onto the emails.
The first comes from Jessica Labowitz from my hometown of Philadelphia. She writes:
I decided to e-mail you 1) because I felt sorry for you, and 2) because you made a mention to Point Break today in your blog.First, Jessica’s email address goes to the highest bidder. We’ll start the bidding at $25 and a six-pack of Molson.
As most of my friends know, I am damn near obsessed with Point Break. I agree Keanu is hardly the actor he is paid for, but the Keanu-Swayze combination is cinema gold. It's like ebony and ivory, living together in perfect muscular harmony. This movie, for me anyway, is a perfect visual masturbatory display of golden tans and cropped football jerseys and dark brooding eyes. I have, at some point in time I'm sure, watched this movie and felt something, down there, in my pants. With no stimulation required. It is fabulous, and is certainly the best $6.99 I ever spent. And we all know women are much harder to stimulate visually than men are. Am I a sexual oddity? Perhaps. Am I glad I found my cinematic G-Spot? Definitely.
I'm sure you understand how I feel - I'll bet a movie about a stray dog eating a twinkie out of a dumpster can get you all hot and bothered. If you have any similar experiences, I would love to hear about them.
Second, after reading Jessica’s email, I have to agree: the Keanu-Swayze combo is gold. I personally believe, however, that this has less to do with wooden but admittedly sexalicious Keanu Reeves than the modern-day legend that is Mr. Patrick Swayze.
The Outsiders. Red Dawn. Road House. Ghost. I could go on for ages. I would be remiss if I didn’t confess that I, like Jessica, felt a little something down in the basement when my dream came true and Patrick Swayze finally (finally!) dressed in drag in 1995’s To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything! Julie Newmar, thus single-handedly making 1995 the greatest year of my life.
I need to take a deep breath here.
Thirdly, as far as similar experiences of cinematic arousal (non-porn category), three examples come immediately to mind:
1) The Michael Douglas-Demi Moore sex scene in Disclosure. It must have been in about 1996, when I was 16 or 17, and this movie came on late night at my house. I remember seeing that scene, and thinking, “Well, this changes everything.” Good lord. It’s very hard to get over Michael Douglas being involved, as he is a total goober, but wow. Her boobs…just…incredible…can’t…type…must…play with…self…
2) The pie-eating contest in Stand By Me. Something about a bunch adolescent boys, eating a bunch of pie, and then throwing up – I don’t know, it just gets me.
3) The scene in A Bronx Tale in which Sonny says to the bikers, “Now yous can’t leave” and the Italians stomp the shit out of the bikers. Nothing gets me like Italian machismo baby – nothing!
And if such a movie exists in which a stray dog eats a twinkie out a dumpster, please send me the title as soon as possible. Thanks.
Kevin from Tucson sent me arguably the greatest email I’ve ever gotten.
On August 23 you posted how you got wasted and told a girl that you were the Predator in Alien v. Predator. Personally, that’s the funniest shit I've ever heard and knew that if one night I got the proper amounts of booze and weed in me, that I would undoubtedly perform these lines on the most-sober looking girl I could find. Amazingly I managed to recite your lines verbatim and with a straight face. I then threw in: "Yeah, my Dad works for Warner Bros. and was a producer for Forrest Gump. I was the kid on the bus who wouldn’t let Forrest sit down".Kevin, someday, when I am Pope, and you die, I will make you a saint. I’m not sure how that whole process works, or how I’m going to actually become Pope, but I will make your canonization my life’s mission.
We then had "one of those" conversations which lasted for a solid half hour in which I can't remember a fucking thing. Later on that night she apparently got extremely shit-canned, and well... showed us her cans.
The picture is attached.
Lot of emotion on this email. First, pride, knowing that although I am completely unable to score, I have helped someone, even in some small way, see some boobies.
Second, arousal, since the boobies are, frankly, spectacular. They have to be fake. And I am totally ok with that.
Third, sadness, in the “Why the hell can’t this happen to me?” vain. I thought of the damn line! It’s my damn line! Is there no justice in this world?
And finally, hunger. I was rushed this morning and only had some oatmeal, foregoing my usual oatmeal-mozzarella sticks-bologna trifecta, and I’m dying for a sub right about now.
Kudos Kevin. Kudos, you magnificient son of a bitch.
This one’s from Jennie in Chicago:
This past weekend I was at a party here in Chicago with about 35-50 people present. I'm sitting there with my old college roommie drinking and your name came up. We then spent the next 30 minutes discussing you and your quasi-celebrity status. At the mention of "quasi-celebrity status" some guy we don't know turns around and says "Wait, what's the chance that you’re talking about that blog guy Mulgrew?" Yep.First off Jennie, you should have definitely put out for him. Any guy who not only reads this site but is also confident enough to actually approach women about it at a party has balls of steel and will be a success someday.
Only problem is he wasn't remotely attractive at all, but yet he thought this connection was huge and pointed to the fact that we (either of us girls, cause as you often point out and he apparently agreed with, any girl will do) should talk all night and maybe exchange numbers or emails at least. I only wish I had your email with me and had given it to him saying it was mine...he could have been writing you dirty provocative emails making reference to what we could have done on the swing hanging in the loft where the party was, which you might have enjoyed.
[Seriously, can you imagine the balls? “I don’t know you, but I overheard you discussing a website that discusses such topics as pornography, obesity, and alcoholism and in the process uses a wide variety of swear words. I would like to say that I also read this site, and let you know that it is my sincere hope that perhaps I can get you drunk, take you home, and give you mouth babies.” Balls. Fucking balls.]
Second, have we learned nothing from this site? You write, “Only problem is he wasn't remotely attractive at all.” Isn’t this site all about getting past the superficial and getting to know and love a person for what they are on the inside?
That even if a man is so morbidly obese that his doctor has informed him that no, he is not healthy enough for sexual activity, he is really good to animals and should be given a pity beejer?
That even if he looks like Meatloaf (as Bitch Tits in Fight Club) and acts like Philip Seymour Hoffman’s character in Happiness (the twelve people who saw the movie are cringing right now), he one time gave a homeless man half a turkey sandwich, and therefore he should be loved without pants?
I mean, come on! Let’s see some growth people! I actually could care less if you put out for random ugly guys, because I’m looking for Number One here! I’ve been doing this for nine months, and nothing? Not one lousy lay? None?
[Excuse me, I have to go get some air.]
[Also, could you tell me a little more about the swing? Please?]
I’ve said before that I love getting your emails. Sure, it may take me a long time to respond, and sure, my responses may only be one word, and sure, maybe that one word doesn’t have anything to do with your email and is usually some kind of racial slur, but I really like your emails. I have low self-esteem and most of my friends are trying to destroy me, so hearing from the web community at-large does wonders for my confidence.
However, if you’re going to send me email like this, please don’t bother (I got this one when I was sick last month).
I hope you don't die, man. Where else will I be able to read about a guy like me unless I write emails to myself? I like knowing there's another degenerate in NYC who masturbates all over the place and wishes that people were naked all the time and you could just stick your dick in strange women's asses on the subway and people could sniff each other's assholes like dogs. Jennifer Lopez is on the Letterman show and she's giving me wood right now!A simple “hope you feel better” would have done just fine.
Man, you said you wished you masturbated in work more often. Well, it didn't work for me. I was fired 3 weeks ago after some wussbag asshole caught me masturbating in the men's room. He tattled on me and I had to explain my jerking off to the president. I was asked to leave after I said something like, "I was in the bathroom moving my bowels and then I got the sudden urge to feel myself. So I couldn't help it. I mean, I'm sure you've had those urges, too, Mr."I'm just gonna collect unemployment and stay home and jerk off excessively.”
Oh, oh, shit, I also gotta tell you about the time I jerked out my roommate. Last summer he and two girls walked in on me jerking off naked in 90 degree heat on a day our air conditioner broke. I cursed him out for walking in on me and not immediately leaving. You see your roommate jerking off, fuckin turn around and leave! Am I right? Well, the next day he was packing to move out so I started jerking off again to piss him off. I was slapping my meat silly and making all kinds of fuck sounds. Then I walked in the hallway completely naked with my cock in my hand and I stood in his doorway and was pumping. He looked at me and called me a fuckin' disgrace. 4 seconds later I ejaculated towards him and it landed on the floor. He picked up a football and hit me right below my belly button. I ran towards him and punched him. He backed away because he didn't want my cum on him.
That's it. Maybe you'll make a recovery and still live.
Can anyone tell me how to block certain email addresses? Please?
My buddy Hal from Manasquan, NJ sent me this email after the Sox’ World Series win:
Theo Epstein vs. Tom Brady.This is a toughie. I admit, my expertise in this area is limited, as I am heterosexual (politically at least).
Who do you think could get the hottest chick right now in New England?
Obviously Epstein is riding a high with the Sox victory, but Brady has brought New England two Super Bowls in the last 3 years and he's got the athlete thing going for him.
If the city of Boston ever holds a public charity event where those two guys are appearing, I'm taking a day off and going there. The flock of talent that would show up would be breathtaking…
On the one hand, you have Tom Brady, superstar NFL quarterback who’s brought the Pats two championships in three years. And, oh yeah, he’s dreamy.
On the other hand, you have Theo Epstein, boy wonder GM who is responsible for creating the team that brought Boston its first World Series win in 86 years. Also, he’s not bad looking, and he went to Yale.
Even though New England is a baseball town, and I think the one Sox championship means more than if the Pats were to win ten championships in a row, I’ve got to go with Brady. The reason? The body. If I’ve learned one thing about women, it’s that they like guys with good bodies. If I’ve learned two things about women, it’s that “no” means “no” only if you’re a quitter.
I don’t know why a woman would rather have a man who can lift heavy weights over a man who’s so suave he can tell a slavery joke at an NAACP fundraiser and still be everybody’s best friend, especially when in the end we’re all going to be old and gross anyway (and no, I’m not bitter). But women love good bodies.
And Hal, you’re right - if there’s ever an event where those two are appearing, well, watch out. I’ll catch a ride up with you, and when I’m taking a piss at a rest stop, you can alert the Sex Crimes Unit of the Boston PD, because no one’s going to walk away a winner after that function.
Our last email comes from Becky Engels in Montréal, Canada.
I’ve been reading your blog for a couple of months and it seems that you want to pick up a chick who will sleep with you, or at least show you their boobs.And a hell of an idea it is.
So here's my idea. You have a ton of readers, and you'd be surprised at how many of them are women who get sent a link to your blog from friends (which is how I found you). Also, I bet there are women from all over the country reading (I’m from Montréal, so you might have a few Canadian readers as well).
You should offer your services if they ever come to visit NYC. You could be their tour guide and the tour would always end up at a bar. So, even if they don't want a long term relationship, at least there's a chance they'll get so drunk they'll sleep with you, or at least show you their boobs. Since they've spent the day with you, and know what your story is before even meeting you, I think it's safe to assume that they won't be totally disgusted by you.
This is sounding harsh, it's not supposed to.
I’m completely serious. I’m a chick. The first time I went to NYC I would have loved to have had a tour guide with a sense of humor that could get me drunk.
Anyway, just an idea.
So, there you have it, lady visitors to NYC. For just three and a half minutes of the worst sex of your life, you can have me, Jason Mulgrew, Internet Quasi-Celebrity, Fashionista, and NYC Socialite, show you not only all the tourist attractions that NYC has to offer, but all the hip places that aren’t in your “Let’s Go” guide. Together, we’ll cavort around town, laughing, drinking, and when you’re not looking I’ll look down your shirt.
So that’s my offer. You needn’t worry – alcohol, as well as any numbers of narcotics (if necessary), will be provided to ensure a forgettable experience for one and all. All those interested should email the address in the box in the upper right. I look forward to hearing from you soon and taking pictures of you with my penis on your forehead while you’re passed out!