Tongue Tied Tim

Continued from Petite Man (part 1)

Junior (part 2)

When I arrived at the bar I quickly scanned the room to see if my date was there. I didn’t see anyone sitting alone so I took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer. I decided to keep a tab open hoping that my date would pick it up at the end of the night. After 5 minutes or so of getting anxious and excited to meet this guy he arrives at my side. Instantly disappointed… I’m not trying to be harsh it’s just that I think I was hoping for something (or someone) stunning and he was just a normal dude. We relocated to a table and he proceeded to ask me the usual first date questions. The conversation somehow turned to my recent psychic encounter. As I was leading up to telling him about the psychics predictions, I felt that I should explain to him that I had not been in a relationship in 4 years and didn’t feel like I had any issues to discuss but the psychic brought up my upcoming marriage on her own accord. Before I could even finish my sentence, the guy chimes in, you haven’t been in a relationship in 4 years and you don’t think you have issues (insert very judgmental tone)? Ummm, Fuck you, asshole, it’s a choice. Anyway, he was totally into the psychic stuff and wanted to know how I got to a “place” where I would seek out a psychic and believe in it. He told me that he went to psychic conventions in Arizona with his aunt and uncle and a bunch of other weird shit that I forgot the second after he told me. He also said that before the date he was feeling pressured and anxious thinking that I may be his future and wondering what our kids were going to look like, etc. Whoa! What guy talks like that? And especially on the first date? He then went on to tell me how he’d like to buy a home soon but what’s the point unless he has a family to fill it with.

I steered the conversation to a different path and asked him what he prefers to be called (since his voicemail says one thing, Sam calls him something else and his email says another). His name is James Johnson Jr. After a bit of prodding he finally told me that he prefers to be called Jimmy or Junior. Now, if he were 12 years old those names would be perfectly fine but he is twenty fucking eight and apparently wants to get married and have babies ASAP so he should think about making the switch to something slightly more appropriate. Can you imagine calling out Junior mid orgasm? Fuck me, Junior, fuck me! The thought of it is actually revolting.

I decided I’d have two drinks with him–since that seemed like the polite thing to do–and then call it a night. When the waitress dropped off our checks he did not even offer to pick up the 2 fucking beers I had. So, I drove all the way over to his neighborhood and paid for my own drinks? As we were walking out I started to walk one direction and he another. He stopped me and said, no this way. I laughed thinking that I was just confused and he was going to walk me to my car (because I had told him I walked through a dark alley in the rain to get from my parking space to the bar and also because its just what a man should do) but no… we walked to his car. He hugged me goodbye and neither of us made any mention of a second date or calling. I felt relieved to be getting out of there without any strange goodbye.

Later that night Junior text me this: Hi Laura, I enjoyed sharing a beer and conversation with you, thanks again! I hope you have a lot of fun this weekend! You’re a good hugger too J Take care. My response was this: I am a good hugger.

This boy and I had nothing in common. He is an only child and I come from a large family. He went to prep school and I’m basically trashy with a classy exterior. It was never going to work…

Ironically enough, Junior has a friend who knows my girl, Emily. They spoke about our date the other night and it turns out that Junior says talking to me is like pulling teeth…or its like pulling teeth getting me to talk. Whatever, you get what I’m saying.

A Petite Man (Part 1)

Times have been tough lately so my girlfriend, Sam, offered to set me up on a date with her boyfriend’s friend. Since I haven’t been out on a date in a while, I agreed before I even heard anything about the guy. I should have said no when Sam used the word petite to describe him. Uh, what the hell does that mean? Am I going out with a midget? Or is this a really tiny guy who will inevitably have a really tiny wiener (I mean, come on, guys are typically pretty proportionate). I’ve had my fair share of tiny wieners so I’m not looking to get involved with another one. In fact, a few weeks ago I told some friends, I don’t have sex with a guy, I have sex with their dick… Now I know that sounds awfully slutty of me, but in my defense, I was fairly intoxicated at the time and I’ve become much less promiscuous in my old age so I may just be all talk.

Anyway, back to the petite man… I saw a picture of him on facebook and thought he looked alright (but who doesn’t in their profile pictures??). I told Sam she could give him my number. A few days later Sam told me that her friend remembers meeting me at a Christmas sweater pub-crawl. Fucking great. I was in rare form that night. I spent most of that night pounding pitchers of PBR and chasing around a sailor who was home on leave for the holidays. Toward the end of that night, I puked in the bathroom of the bar and managed to get the sailors number from a mutual friend. I text the sailor this message at 3am: I want you to come with me to St. Johns. I want to get naughty with you in my bosses house, in her room, in her bed. I’m going to put it all out there and if you’re not cool with that, then fine. But why leave any mystery to what I want (Note: I happen to be house-sitting for my boss who lives a solid 30minute drive from where we were drinking). Unfortunately I never saw the sailor again this Christmas… but that’s not the story we’re talking about. So the petite fellow remembers me like that and still wants to go on a date? Hmm… OK.

For some reason the petite man wanted to go on a double date. Now, I’ve been on a few blind dates and they can be pretty awkward (especially when you decide to meet at a bar and you walk in not knowing if they are there yet and then your mind starts to race about whether you should walk around the bar looking for someone sitting alone and if so how much time do you spend looking or if you should just go up to the bar and order yourself a drink then coyly look over the top of you drink while you pray to God that the guy wearing a jean jacket who just walked in is not your date) but this seems rather junior high to me. After several failed attempts on Sam’s part to coordinate the date via email, I got tired of all the bullshit and hit reply all that the petite fellow could call me if he wanted to meet me for a drink. Sam is constantly giving me dating advice; telling me that if I want to get a guy I need to act less interested and more reserved…clearly I don’t follow her advice very well so I was pretty sure she was not going to approve of my email. Later that day the petite man called me and suggested we meet at a dive bar near his house later in the week. I was hesitant but excited after our phone conversation. He sounded really sweet and confident and most importantly, he laughed at my jokes. The week before, I had gone to see a psychic for various life reasons and she told me (with a great deal of certainty) that I was going to be “settled” with a partner (assuming she means a man) within two years. In the back of my mind I kept thinking that this guy could be him. I felt very unsure about that possibility. I mean, I wanted to have some consistent, meaningful, ridiculously awesome sex but I wasn’t sure if that translated into me having a husband. I knew that I would just know instantly if he were the one the psychic was referring to… continue to Junior (Part 2)

Tim: I’m at my new job literally right across the street from my old job. IB peeps, I can see you, come wave out the window. Ohh and yes we have a ping pong table too — and a pool table — and an xbox — and a tv — free sodas.

Brad: Very funny, Tim. And do you also get a personal testicle washer?

Pat:Your life is like the movie “Momma’s Boy”

Tim: I’ll never play any of them but i will drink some soda. the office is nice. i’ll post pics when I can. the floors are carpeted in furs from endangered animals, the walls are wallpapered in $100 bills and everyday there is a five o clock free crack giveaway. and yes Brad, there is a bathroom attendant to wipe my butt. well, when I become salary. i still have to wipe until then.

Brad:I said “testicle washer,” you idiot. They already have butt-wipers here at IB.

Tim: I only let a few people touch my testicles — I am making Jenn watch a training video, a safety video before I let her even look at them let alone wash them in her mouth.

Brad: Jenn? But Tim, I thought she had “TGIF” tattooed on her mouth. (Toes go in first.)

Tim: Turds go in first

Brad: Oopps, my brad

Tim: My “brad”? really is that your new catch phrase? You know, mine is “you can’t spell Tim without tmi.”

Brad: It’s an old catchphrase. I use it whenever I feel like it.

      funny facebook updates: shitty deodorant
      for more funny Facebook updates

Tim: I wore deodorant for the first time in a few months – seriously – when I ran out last, I stopped buying it. I never smelled bad at all when I did not wear it. It was only because of my new job that I bought some. The junk made my armpits smell bad. I think I’m just not going to use it. Damn society telling me that’s wrong.

Sara: Next time buy men’s deodorant. Women scent on men just don’t go right.

Matt: Thai crystals are a new-age hippie scam!

Jenn: I didn’t want to hurt your feelings but…..

Tim: Jenn? seriously? no way you wouldn’t have said anything…plus I know i did not smell.

Jenn: You didn’t smell. I would have said “Dude. You stink.” You totally didn’t stink.

Tim: Except for that night i pooped the bed.

Jenn: We agreed never to speak of that again.

Matt: Pooping in bed is a great way to get rid of people you never want to see again.

Jenn: I think that might be what he was going for…yet I’m still here. I guess I’m not too great at taking all the massive hints.

      funny facebook updates: costco hot dog date
      for more funny Facebook updates

Tim: Only day 8 of my new job and I worked over time. I know some special little lady that is going to be able to super size it on Valentine’s Day.

Plain Jane: LOL! Oh shit… that was funny

Jenn: You can’t super size it at Costco….

Jenn: At least not at the “restaurant” anyway.

Plain Jane: Oooh, is he taking you for the $1.50 dog and soda combo? That sounds awesome. I wish I had a valentine : (
On a side note, I was thinking you guys should come to PDX for a visit…and soon.

Jenn: Well….Friday night he took me to Costco for a weiner and a Coke. It was a night full of weiner. We ate in the car, in the rain. The gentle tap, tap of rain on the roof; the pungent odor of mustard filled the air; the cloying scent of relish wafted upwards; the windows fogged as my mouth wrapped around my weiner(s). Swoon. I’m not sure he can top that on V-Day. ; )

A PDX trip would be awesome! I need a vacay.

Rob: TMI

Jenn: Oh Rig – it’s your mind that went to THAT place. I was clearly referencing the delicious hot weiner at Costco. Although I can see how you might confuse that with Tim. ; )

Tim: It was a real hot dog cart in the car that night.

      funny facebook updates: valentne’s day profile pic
      for more funny Facebook updates

Plain Jane: Look out Jennifer! You’ve got competition! With Tim’s new job now he can afford to buy himself this new woman. Roxxxy the Sex Robot

Jenn: I thought he was growing tired of me. He deserves better anyway. This sounds like the perfect replacement.

Tim: Duh Jenn! have you never heard of a three-way?

Jenn: Ummm….that’s what I was suggesting — Coincidentally, on KROQ this morning, they interviewed a guy that lives in LA that is legally married to a mannequin. He’s real and he’s real crazy.

Tim: Legally? that’s BS. The Gays can’t even marry in this state. wtf?

Brad: “Hines believes that Roxxxy is a step above other love dolls — the similar but mute RealDoll costs about $5,500.” Why pay $1,500 more for a doll to talk? I know guys who’d pay their girlfriends/wives to shut up.

Tim: good point Brad

Jenn: Apparently a judge in Beverly Hills married them. He moved to DC w/the mannie but people broke her legs off. Now he needs to fix her legs cause he’s currently carrying them around in her day bag.

There’s a little thing called a gagball Brad. Tim does that to me when we’re playing BadGirl. Oddly we only ever play BadGirl when the Ducks are on….

Tim: that gag ball was really a cat toy for your cats, you are the one who put it in her mouth one drunk night.

Brad: I think that Beverly Hills judge was a Winter — and I meant that in a good way.

      funny facebook updates: calling my gf
      for more funny Facebook updates

I went to the website of The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien to try and get tickets; knowing I’d never get any, here is how I filled out the request form. The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien ticket request form

Name: Jay Leno
Address: 1151 Tower Rd. Beverly Hills, Ca. 90210
Email: timwinter@tonguetiedtim.com
Ticket Amount: 1 single seat in the very back
Dates: 1/20,1/21 or 1/22/2010
Message to Conan and the Tonight Show Staff:

Conan,

Hi, It’s me Jay. I seem to keep getting canned and I know I’m kinda, sorta dicking you over this time, but — do you think I can sit in on one of your shows so I can learn how to be funny again?

I hope this request finds you well and that there are no hard feelings that I am loved by old white women of middle class America and you are loved by all those young trendsetting youngsters; damn hoodlums!

But seriously Conan, I have become the crazy cat lady and all the neighbor kids now run past my house — as I sit crying naked in my garage full of cars. Please help me get my funny back.

Jay

PS: You looking to sell that green eyed beauty of yours, the 92 Green Ford Taurus? I’ll give her a good home in my collection. I’ll only wash her with the tears of your fans.

I’ve had several job interviews for various creative positions over the last 12 months; none of which have yet to pan out (I have been that guy a lot). These positions have been extremely competitive, with on occasion, a thousand applicants submitting their resumes for the same job. When I get short listed for an interview these days, I think about how a movie star always says, “I’m just happy to be nominated”. This is no different for me when it comes to an interview, I’m always happy to make the first cut (roughly the 90th percentile).

I make it a point to ask how many applicants there are so I know how competitive it’s going to be. It’s always either 1 of 20 or 1 of 5 if I’m really lucky; so close but still no offers. This has forced me to get creative and a little innovative to stand out from my competition.

A cover letter that REALLY stands out
With so many applicants applying, no hiring manager wants to read the same old boring cover letter 1000 times. I’ve come up with a cover letter that is concise and to the point but in a creative way. Most of the interviewers have made a comment about it and it’s part of why I get an interview. (My video interview that I would link to when I submitted my advertising portfolio to an out of state advertising agency also got a lot of attention).

Cover Letter in 140 Characters

twinter
Self-proclaimed Creative Strategist;
an intermingling of left/right brain;
a passion to be innovative
with ROI in mind. Career goal: CD.
Twit about an interview. ; )
20 minutes ago from web

Post Interview Thank You
There are a few things you must do after every interview and how you do it is also very important. The first is to ask what the next step is and you must ask for the next interview. The second thing, the one I like the most  is the thank you.  A hand shake and a thank you used to be all that was required; today that is not enough. Some people send out an email thank you letter; today that’s not enough. Today, to  stand out from your competition, you should at the least send them a hand written thank you letter. I was doing that for awhile but so were a lot of other people – I had to take it one more step.  When I applied to a PR firm I gave them a hand made press release thank you. I cut out  letters form magazines and glued them onto a piece of paper to make a thank you letter that resembled a ransom note. Ransom Thank You Letter

Here is my latest Thank You for a marketing assistant position I recently interviewed for at The Design People. The idea came about when my interviewer explained to me that one of the job responsibilities would include creating their monthly in house awards. Awards? How about a trophy!

But then again, I have not been offered any of these jobs yet, so take my advice for what it’s worth. At least I’m having fun trying.

UPDATE: I got the job and now I’m that guy too.

Tongue Tied Tim: Is there anything worse than proposing to your gf while she is on the toilet — after you took her to the all you can eat chili bar? or you yourself leaving a floater in the toilet with a ring sticking out of it? — Wait until she comes home — a double surprise — the sports fanatic jumbotron guy ain’t got shit on this other guy.

Plain Jane: gross!

Jenn:  A moment you’d want to NEVER remember. Especially the “you’ve got to dig it out yourself” part.

Brad: Tim… stop making fun of me.

Jenn: Wow Brad….she must really love you.

Brad: Well… she DID. I don’t get it, Tim said it would work like a Charmin.

Tim: Brad, what I told you to do was to place the ring in the bowl — A FISH BOWL with floating candles — not in the toilet bowl on a floating turd — and I said, “that shit would be charming.”

Brad:  Oh. Well, damn. At least the chili bar was good.

Tim: I literally just laughed out loud — I also told you to take her to a “chill” bar — where did you even find a chili bar?

Brad: Compton. Incidentally, they were taping an episode of “Survivor” where we ate.

Tim: ahhh, yes — Survivor Compton. It’s an urban version since they ran out of islands — how that bald white guy has lasted so long, I’ll never know.

Another Tim and Brad funny status update rambling funny facebook updates: coworkers

With the holidays approaching, I’m reminded of a Christmas story from last year. As I’ve mentioned before, I spend a lot of time with the stay-at-home-moms club and their families. Each year we have a Christmas exchange party where we enjoy drinks and watch the kids open presents, etc. As I am the only single one at this party, we always seem to discuss who my future boyfriend will be. My beautiful friend, Skinny Bitch (SB), and her husband, Bruce, decided they had found the man just for me. Jerry, Bruce’s co-worker, was a young (23), attractive (says Bruce) guy who worked in the auto body shop. Now, usually I like my men a little older-though not quite as old as old balls- but I was willing to give it a go. Bruce took my picture with his camera phone to show to Jerry. Mistake number 1: My photo was taken with a new pair of stripper shoes I had just gotten for Christmas from SB (at the time we were enrolled in a pole dancing class).

A few days later I got a text from Jerry telling me that Bruce gave him my number and that he would like to take me out (again with the fucking text!). Jerry and I text back and forth maybe 4 times and I think I said he needed to send me a pic of him since he saw a pic of me and it was only fair. I can remember this clear as day-I was sitting in front of the pole dancing class waiting for it to start when I got an MMS from Jerry… he was shirtless! After I burst out laughing at such a ridiculous picture I told Jerry I had to go. That I was too busy to go out with him when he had suggested so he should just try me again another time. I showed SB the picture when she got to class and she was angry that her husband could set me up with a spray tan douche bag that sends half naked pictures to girls.

About a week later I got another text from Jerry. He wanted to know if I was interested in going out with him and a bunch of his guy friends on a Friday night. I told him that I couldn’t go out…that I wouldn’t be able to go out for a long time-I was pregnant! I have no idea where this thought came from but it seemed like a very reasonable thing to do to get this dude off my back. He wrote back, “are you serious? That sucks.” As I giggled with glee that he would believe such a thing I wrote back that it was in fact true and that I didn’t know what I was going to do. He then replied (this is all 100% true and not exaggerated, by the way), “as a guy I’d tell you to just get rid of it because that’s the easy thing to do. If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to call me.” OK, really? I have never even met you and you think I’m going to call you for advice about what I should do about my presumably illegitimate baby? I thanked him and told him I’d figure it out.

As soon as I finished texting him I called Bruce and SB to tell them what I did so that they could confirm my story. Just as I thought, Jerry asked Bruce if he thought it was true. Bruce, being the awesome friend that he is to me, lied and said that he thought I was dating some random dude so that it could definitely be true. Months later my name came up in conversation again between Bruce and Jerry and Bruce told him I had had an abortion since I didn’t know who the father was.

I later found out that Jerry wanted me to go with him and his friends to a strip club that night. I guess since I was taking a pole dancing class he thought it reasonable to take me out for a steak and some vagina for our first date. Turns out that’s not the same thing…