Awkward “Passing By” Moments

We all know what I’m talking about.

You’re walking to class, or work, or what have you, when you spot an acquaintance. At first, they’re clearly within a recognizable distance. Yet, still too far away to engage in any vocal communication – but rapidly approaching.

What first goes through your mind is the nature of your relationship with the individual (Enemy? Friend? Drunken hook-up?). Followed by the decision of what should be said in passing. If anything.

This is the point where I need to make a distinction between two types of people. Engagers and Repliers.

Engagers seek to be the one who speaks first in passing; the one whose greeting is to be replied to.

Repliers are the ones who remain quiet unless engaged upon.

The degree to which a person is an Engager or Replier varies depending on context; for instance, someone who is typically an Engager may become a Replier when approaching a more gregarious Engager.

(But the same scenario with the same two people could be flipped on it’s head a mere 24 hours later, depending on what I call the DIF, which obviously is short for ‘Drug Intake Factor’. Next day, it turns out Mr. Gregarious was actually Mr. Likes-to-take-adderall-before-snorting-cocain. That DIF is some shit.)

If I’m not mistaken, this creates four categories of possible outcomes any time two members of a community walk past each other. They are as follows:

  1. Engager walks past Replier – at what point the Engager says something like, “Hey, how’s it going?” and the Replier responds, “Not bad, you?” Typically the smoothest transactions.
  2. Engager walks past Engager – at what point both parties attempt to engage in menial passing dialog and in doing so create a moment which they can both enjoy, as Engagers are typically chipper and outgoing and cherish imperfect moments such as those.
  3. Replier walks past Replier – at what point both pussies pretend to be looking at anything else other than each other, yet are both well aware that the other is doing the same thing.

Aw, fuck. I guess there was only three. If A=B then AxB=BxA or some such shit.

Anyway. Back to the hypothetical situation I was describing:

So as you approach the person you decide two things: what you intend to say if the approaching person says nothing, and how you intend to reply if they engage.

The only problem is we make these decisions prior to any actual vocal communication. This can at times result in some rather weird moments.

For instance, someone says, “What’s good?” and I reply, “Not much.” A rather depressing verbal encounter when you think about it.

Or when someone says “What’s up?” and I say “Pretty good.” Which just totally doesn’t make sense.

Basically, these moments are inevitable in life. So get used to them.

Boom. Awkward passing-by moments explained. You’re welcome.


Am I the only one who thinks that baby looks a little too young to be in time-out? I mean, he looks like 7, maybe 8 months old at most!

What could a child that young possibly do to warrant a time-out? I mean, the commercial implies it was for riding the dog. I have two things to say to that:

  1. That dog is clearly large enough to support the approximate weight of that talking baby.
  2. What kind of shitty mother even takes her eyes off a fucking baby, talking or not, long enough for the baby to get on the dog in the first place? This isn’t Rugrat’s, bitch; this is real life.

Yeah, Tommy used to ride Spike when his negligent old fart of a grandfather would inevitably pass the fuck out, but

Tommy also got straight kidnapped out of his front yard by two middle aged men in the first season. Your baby won’t come back from that shit in real life unless it’s in a trash bag being dug out of a shallow grave.

I keeps it real.

Silly Republicans

All I’m saying is you know corporations have too much power over Republicans when they decide that raising taxes on the Girl Scouts is a safer political move than not giving billions of dollars in tax breaks to corporations.

In other words, they made the calculated decision that the bad press they would get from dicking over the Girl Scouts is less politically detrimental to their careers than not doing whatever billionaires say.

That’s all I’m gonna say about that. No more politics from now on.

Rapper Name

I have officially become aware of what my rapper name would be in the highly unlikely instance I become a rapper. It’s really good. The best part about it is it makes sense. It is the following:

Virginia Slim

Seriously, because I am literally from Virginia (born’n’raised) and I am literally slim, like, physically.

I almost feel like I need to start rapping just so the name doesn’t go to waste. Why not? I’ve only ever been told I can be whatever I want.

Ooh, and he finishes off the blog post with what appears to be some sort of attempt at a witticism… I think.

I’m Posting every day in 2011!

I’ve decided to participate in the WordPress post a day thingy. I write every day anyway, but I feel like I should probably actually commit myself to something in my life. So, here it goes.

Does this post count as today’s?


So I woke up this morning (morning=11:45am) and, naturally, turned on MSNBC and smoked some weed. To those of you who wonder how I get away with smoking weed in a dorm, I’ll just say necessity is the mother of invention and leave it at that.

So I do the deed. Watch some news. Ugh, Contessa Brewer isn’t getting any younger. Smoke weed again. Decide to make some coffee. Open my door to find that a security guard is fixing my next door neighbors’ door. Oops, I wonder how long he’s been here. Make coffee. Watch more news. Ugh, Andrea Mitchell is still alive?

Turns out he had been there since before I woke up. I say “Oops”, but really this just shows how good I am at undercover smoking.

Good for me.

Nicorette Sucks as Much as Quitting

No really, it does.

Not even because chewing it means I don’t get to smoke or even because it tastes like a smoker’s ABC (Aready Been Chewed) gum. But because it means that I don’t get to chew the gum I like.

Oh, and I should say, I’m not trying to quit. I’ve just had the worst sore throat in the world for like… well now like the past 2 weeks. So I’m just trying to use the gum to get me from smoking cigs just long enough for my throat to heal.

But I already chewed gum all the time before making the decision to try to temporarily quit. I’m one of those smokers who goes to great lengths to not smell like a smoker. Which means that I wash my hands about as many times a day as I smoke, use rather expensive cologne, and, of course, chew gum.

But now I can’t even chew good gum. I have to chew shitty gum that is about 10x less as satisfying as the addiction it’s supposed to help.

I need a fucking cig.

Funny Occurrence

I was just watching this episode of “Caught on Camera” in which, in two separate instances, some video was found of some people making babies and toddlers smoke weed. Really fucked up shit.

And I was sitting there watching it. High. Packing up another bowl.

And I began to think “holy shit, what the fuck would it be like to be a high baby?”

Think about it.

Problem #1 – Inconsiderate Fuckasses

Yes, I have recently observed – and am currently dealing with – the first item on the list of things wrong with today’s youth: the fact that we are all inconsiderate fuckasses.

See, currently I’m mid-way through my Sunday. I don’t know what you like to do on Sundays, but personally I like to quietly chill out. With or without company, I don’t really care, it’s Sunday and I do what I want.

What I don’t want to do is have to listen to some other person’s music. I don’t like to listen to music when I’m chilling. I like to listen to music when I drive. See, music is ideal for such a situation, as you need your eyes to drive. When I’m sitting in my room, I like to be entertained by a medium that can be enjoyed by more than just the ears. Such as a video game or a movie.

But dumb motherfuckers who are my age seem to think that you can’t enjoy a video game unless you play it while listening to very loud music with your door open. Which is a problem for me, because as I said earlier, I don’t particularly like to be forced to listen to some other asshole’s music.

But they don’t see it that way, because we’re all inconsiderate fuckasses. They see it as them listening to music at a volume that they please. They don’t consider the fact that by doing so, they’re putting

their sound in my room.

As I write this I can hear the sounds of my TV, which I only have on to drown out the shit coming from my neighbor’s room, which consists of loud music and loud assholes who apparently have to make primate noises every time something exciting happens in their video game.

So basically, if you’re an older individual and you think you have the right to bitch about my generation, try being one of them, and living with them. You’re lucky, you get to die eventually. I’m stuck with them until die.


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