Matt Czuchry: I Wanted to Touch Your Face

You were filming "The Good Wife" outside my work for a whole week. I kept hoping to run into you, and while going to lunch one day, I looked across the intersection and there you were, crossing the street into my outstretched arms (you wish). You stood to my left as we waited for the light to change and blew a big ass bubblegum bubble, color me impressed. I turned to you, touched your arm and said "hey, I don't mean to be a pain in the ass, but I think you're awesome." You said "thanks," and we made the smallest of small talkz as we crossed the street together. I wanted to touch your face so bad as it looked softer than the softest baby butt. 


If you see this, let me touch your face.

You Love My Birthday Cuba Gooding Jr.

I was havin a baller evening with my friends while celebrating my birthday at the Hudson Hotel bar. We were putting our drankz on some German dude's hotel room bill (he offered?) and dancin up a storm until people told us to get down off the couches. Someone said Cuba Gooding Jr. was there, so I was like where he be!? I saw you, posse-less, sitting down with some guy, Mr. Manager, standing right behind you. I saw you signing stuff in front of some chicks, so I figured it was equal opportunity. I sat down right in front of you on the couch, and your manager looked at me quizzically, then looked at you for a yes or no, and you gave him a head shake "no." Mr. Manager looked at me and nodded a big fat "NOPE SORRY." So, dejected, I got up and slumped away as much as one can slump while dancing and drinking. 


Ten minutes go by and Mr. Manager catches my eye, he waves me over like "pardy?" I grabbed my two friends and we resumed the spot in front of you. We told you it was my birthday, and for the rest of the evening you periodically raised your glass and yelled/cheersed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Bottle service happened, and around 1a.m. you asked us if we wanted to go to another clerb*. We followed you out of the bar and down the street to another bar where we jumped the line and immediately got seated/more bottle service...it was so fuggin legit. I faked taking shotz cause I was tired town, and eventually we got "thrown out."


If you see this, would you say playing the driver of the Lucille Ball tour bus in Rat Race was your most demanding role to date?

You Had a Horn

My friends and I tried out Bar Floyd the other night, and I made my way in past the doorman and the guy who "RAWR-ed" at me in reference to my leopard print dress to the couch next to the books. The world cup was inevitably going on, and I still don't care. My friends and I were havin a legit time, and then this horn noise kept happening. I was wondering if it was the TV and some celebration noise for a soccer thingamajig, but alas, twas you, Mr. Horn Blower. Ten minutes later I told my friends, "if he blows it again I'm going over there." And then you did, and then I did. You and your friend were piss-happy. I looked at you and said, "Are you the one blowing the horn? It's annoying." Your friend said some jackassery, and you were slightly stunned that someone who wasn't an obnoxious dude was talking to you. I could totally tell that you wanted to appease your comrades and continue being a douche. I asked you if I could have the horn, and you said no. Then I asked one more time if you would consider stopping and walked away. As I made my way back to the couch, I heard the horn followed by laughter. I heard it about two more times, and then I heard the faint sound of realization- realization that your loud-ass horn blows.


If you see this, have fun ruining good timez.

You Hit on Me Again

I was walking home last night down Sterling, and as I passed by you backing out your motorcycle, I quickly thought you looked like this guy. But I kept walking and jamming to The Drums. This big ass bright light crept up behind me, and it was you trailing next to me on the sidewalk on your motorcycle. I stopped and turned, IT.WAS.YOU. The guy who waved me down on 5th Ave several months ago to ask me if I'm in love and tell me how adorable I am (I KNOW). I almost yarfed. Then, you used the same exact pick-up, "you're lovely, you're adorable." (again, I KNOW). Ummmmmm, the best part? You didn't REMEMBER ME. 


holy.shit. Did that really just happen?


If you see this, I want a list of women you've hit on via motorcycle via rando streets via deutsche-talk. 

I Thought I Was Progressive

Until you came in the store and started milking your baby from your breasts, in the store, under a blanket thing, in the store, from your breasts, right in front of me, in the store. 


If you see this, thank you. I've finally mastered the thizz face.

You Do Things Too Fast

I ran my ass down to the post office the other day trying to make it there before it opened. But of course, even at 9:04, it was a mild clusterfuck in the post office that yelp reviewers wish they could assign negative ratings to. I got in line behind a woman picking her nose, and then you walked in. Oblivious to the line and clearly more important, you walked right up to the window of an employee and said the most unimaginable shit: "I mailed something this morning, and I want to make sure I addressed it correctly." The employee looked at you the way most of us looked at you, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING? And then you're reasoning behind it, which you repeated over and over again for what would be the next half hour was, "Sometimes, I just do things so fast." You do things so fast? YOU DO THINGS SO FAST?? If you have time to be at the post office at 9:10 on a Monday morning and wait until the post office employees sift through every piece of mail in their back room to make sure your measly little envelope is addressed correctly, then the turtle would clearly win in that race. Right when I was finished mailing my taxes, I saw a man through the glass hold up an envelope and then heard your voice next to me say, "that's right." Then, you left muttering anger towards the establishment. That was it, you didn't rewrite the address, you didn't even hold it in your hands. People don't get to complain about the service when they're the old coot of the morning. WE get to complain about YOU, that's why people go to the post office.


If you see this, HURRY UP.

To Chace "Gozzip Boy" Crawford

You went into Barneys New York the other day with your mum, and you had the pleasure of talking to my uncle (he works for one of the cosmetic lines) for awhile about an extremely worthy topic: ME. He told you I graduated with your sister, now professional dater of Tony Romo, and that we were all super jazzed that you were at our graduation ceremony. Then, y'all chatted about the unbelievable food in Missouri, and I think my uncle invited himself to hang out with you and your attractive/wealthy family. You told him you have a pad in New York when he said I live in Brooklyn. COME FIND ME BITCH. 




If you see this, congratulations on not wearing as much  makeup as Joe Jonas. 

You Sent Me the Weirdest Request

You're a musician/by-product of country music. You sent me a friend request on myspace (which  is my virtual filing cabinet for bands, I don't friend normal people) and it had the fucking weirdest message attached:

"Howdy lil miss lady moonlight with an angel dust face"- ANGEL DUST FACE??!?!? WWWHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAT??? I think you got the wrong girl here, see, I'm LEGAL.

I just wanted to dedicate my ocean scene country love song #2 "Picture This" to You! - GREAT, AFTERWARDS CAN YOU VOMIT ON MY FACE!!?

his name here~:)" - What is this dopey emoticon?? What is the SQUIGGLE? A mustache? A single strand of hair falling delicately across your face? I don't know, and I don't think I like what it impliez. 

If you see this, your song was as crappy as the morning dew that glistens on fresh droppings lain down by yonder grasshopper. 

Please, PLEASE enjoy, this ones on me. 

http://www.myspace.com/textronictroubadours

Twitter Timez

Follow me at drankzandjokez if you're so inclined. I'll post updates when a new entry is up but none of that shit about what kind of sandwich I'm eating. 

You're a Family of Waker-Uppers

For the past few weeks, my roommate and I have been all snugglytown in our bunkbed until we hear the doorbell. Every time I leap out of bed thinking it's our super with more glue traps (happened), our super with my roommate's wallet (happened), the police (happened), our downstairs neighbor who we filed a harassment report against (happened) and who plays Gospel music whenever she hears us get up in the morning (still happens), or naked neighbor (will probably happen). But it's you, the family that wakes us up to ask us what we believe, subtext, "do you believe the right thing?" SHIIIIIT SON, I believe I was gettin a DELICIOUS dream and REM cycle- I don't get to mother Jay Z's kid everyday! You tote your kids around like schools dont' exist, and I don't even know if you live in the building. 


If you see this, go dance with the neighbor that hates us, she loves strangers and people who are different from her.

To The Guy Who Paid For My Coat Check Last Night Because You Wanted to See My Body

You were coming from the coat check as I was going toward it. You asked if I was going to check my coat, and I said yes and then asked you how much it cost (sometimes they be spensive). You said you would pay for me to check my coat because you wanted to see what was underneath. 


The last time I felt that much pressure was in the sandwich-making line at my college dorm cafeteria when I wanted to take my time and make a tasty ass bagel sandwich. 


After I took my coat off, you and your friends made happy sounds, and then you tipped the coat check lady. Like, WHAT would have happened if I had disappointed with the big reveal?? 


If you see this, don't you love my coat?? It was made by weavers in Ireland.

Working Out on the Subway

On the 4/5 just now headed toward Brooklyn you were super buff and super knew it. You had tats a'plenty and a ripped red tank top with gym shorts. I was listening to my new CD and casually looked over to the other end of the subway car; you were in the middle doing pull-ups. Like, you were using the bar that people hold so they don't fall down and crush people/get diseases from the fluids on the floor. I kept staring at you like "what the fuck are you doing?" You were all about embracing this snarl expression you had goin on, and I couldn't tell where you were looking. THEN, you stopped doing pull-ups and started stretching. THEN, you whipped out those stretchy rubber work-out things and looped them around the bars to do arm exercises. I was thinking several things that I will now elaborate on: 1) Poor, poor choice of tattoos and placement. 2) No one, not for one second, believed you to be a badass. You were on a train to Brooklyn. This macho display might have been founded were you heading to some dank gym in the city. 3) My body will never look like yours. 4) What kind of women are attracted to someone getting personal with subway bars that millions of grimy hands and body parts touch everyday? 5) What pick-up lines do you use? Or does your body do all the talking? 5) WHY DID YOU DO THE SNARL STARE AT ME WHEN WE GOT OFF THE SUBWAY?


Yea, I saw you watchin me (I think (as per the previous stated uncertainty of where your eyes were focused)). If not, I'm sorry about your eye and the permanent snarl. 


If you see this, I'm not a bench press, so don't get any ideas.

You Ruin Clothes

Mistake #1- You came in the store talkin on the phone like this is Forever fuckin 21
Mistake #2- You said you were going to set your stuff down next to me while you shopped. Your "stuff" was two huge ass bags, and also, I don't need a play-by-play. 
Mistake #3- You couldn't get the dress off that you were trying on and needed help= boobs galore
Mistake #4- You put the dress back and asked if we had another size 6. I said, "like you need two of them?" You said you didn't, so I asked if something was wrong with that one (the one you couldn't get off five seconds earlier). 
You: "I got makeup on it." 
Me: "You want another one instead of the one you got makeup on?" 
You: "Yes." 
Me: ".........................................................................................."
Me after I shit my pants in disbelief: "Well you kinda got makeup on it, there's not much I can do to help you there."
Mistake #5- You bought something else in a size small and left. 


If you see this, get a push-up bra.

To the Deli Masquerading as a Restaurant

With a friend in town, I was entrusted with the fuckin legit role of choosing our dinner location on Friday night. I was led to a tasty town destination called Zaragoza in the East Village, and it was the quickest Yelp of my life. We were pumped, it was gonna be BANGIN.  We get off the subway and start walkin to Ave A, at first it looks like a condemned building, but then wait, JOKEZ ON US cause 215 Ave A was in fact a GROCERY and deli across the street. The restaurant I chose was a convenient store. YOU'RE WELCOME FRIENDS WHO STILL TALK TO ME after that incident. Sorry I love to choose fake restaurants for Friday night rendezvous eats. Charles in Charge ain't got nothin on me. 

Zaragoza, if you see this, get ready to party in my mouth.

Where You be Kirsten Dunst?

We went to the secret, underground bar where we were told you're usually seen stumbling drunkenly around, and you t'were not there. 




If you see this, you totally need to try the pizza fries at Odessa across the street. It'd be all like Marie Antoinette when she tells the peasants, "Let them eat cake," only you'd be all like, "Let them eat delicious pizza fries and then try and storm Versailles in their drunken food stupor with tasty smiles on their torches....LET THEM."

You Asked Me For a Threesome

I was braving Mama's bar in the East Village for the first time after I'd stopped dating one of its bartenders. A couple slurricanes later and I was good to go. You--a regular there and sometimes the DJ--and I got to talking. We'd met several times before, and I'd met your baller girlfriend. She was nowhere around, and being friendly I asked you her whereabouts, genuinely interested. It wasn't code for nasty shit. You started to kiss me, and I pulled away saying over and over (cause it kept happening) "You have a girlfriend." And FINALLY, you are all like, "Oh, she's at home, she told me to not come home alone." So I'm not an idiot, I was like, shit, this dude's gonna get down tonight, hope he finds someone to do it with him and his girlfriend. And in my heart of hearts I earnestly wished you well in your quest. Then you pull this on me: "We're both very attracted to you." Thanks, I mean WHAT? You didn't stop there: "She told me to bring you home." Situation got real. The sex pamphlet in elementary school does not tell you how to handle surprise-threesome-request attacks. Even if I wanted to, my place was off limits (thank goodness) cause we have a bunkbed. Deterred not, were you. I was wasted and didn't know what steps to take to ward you off, aside from the polite "No, but thank you," approach. I told you I had to split (and fucking fast), and you insisted on walking me to Union Square where you kept pulling me aside along the way and kissing me. You were a weird ass violent kisser man, I feel like signing up for that threesome woulda been like signing up for an introduction to poorly staged S&M. 


I was so thrown off that I got on the L instead of my train and ended up in Williamsburg where I immediately started talking to 4 Europeans for an hour. 


If you see this, do you know David Blaine?

You Don't Party With Reading

The door says push, not pull. Let me be the first to preemptively congratulate you on bringing down the whole fucking establishment with a resounding shattering of glass all over the floor, which will surely happen should you choose to keep up this charade upon your next visit. And thanks for standing in the middle of the store and staring at the ceiling cause that looked totally normal and everything to customers coming in.


If you read this, oh right, you can't.

You Said You Didn't Mean to Rush Me

THEN DON'T WAIT OUT IN FRONT OF THE STORE, WALK AWAY LIKE YOU'RE TRICKZ, AND THEN COME BACK. Of COURSE you meant to rush me, and then you gave me the whole, "I thought you might have forgot." FORGOT TO OPEN THE STORE!? Yea, my bad, I usually just come in and use the chair provided to sit and eat my apple and read a book. FORGOT!?!? How could I forget when I wake up at early ass dawn that I'm opening a store that day? 

If you see this (I suppose you meant well) don't get too accustomed to going around "REMINDING" people of shit they have to do...like work on a Saturday. 

You Tried to Rent Us a Taken Apartment

My roommate and I were apartment hunting and you showed us a sweet (yet oh so tiny) place that we were psyched about putting a deposit down on. We made sure money was in our accounts and met up with you the next day to seal the deal. AND THEN YOU SHOWED US OTHER APARTMENTS, all like, "Oh I thought you might want to see these too," and I was all, "ok, but I think we're still gonna wanna take the one we like." Apparently your jackassery was all code for, "someone lives in the apartment I showed you." WHO DOES THAT!? If you see this, or if you don't, I'm gonna show up at your door with my couch and my bunkbed shouting, "HAPPY MOVING DAY ROOMIE."

You Stare at Me While I Work

Your apartment is across the street from my store. You sit in the window (probz smoking) and watch me throughout the day as I work.


That should probably stop. 


And if you see this, wanna cover ALL my shifts and say you didn't? I think you know the hours.

To Lil Jon

You and your grill were chillin at 1 Oak last night, and my friend noticed you as we were getting our coats from the coat check. She said to me, "I think that guy is famous." I turned around to look at you, and our first thought was, "HOLY SHIT THAT'S LIL WAYNE!" Jokez on us cause you're not Lil Wayne, but that's aight, don't sweat it. You had your posse of guys who were not decked out in the expected cool shit ensemble of expensive swag that has the designer's name engraved in the lining. You were talkin smack on how many publicists you have, and I chided to my friend loud enough for you to hear, "oh you have three publicists?" There was a super awkward, scary silence in which I prayed that I was invisible and that no one heard me. But apparently, the way you roll is that your boys can't react until you do, and luckily for me you laughed and gave a little back saying, "yeah, I have three publicists." 
Me: "yeah well, I have five."
You: "well, I have seven."
Me: "yeah, I got 10, I'll see yours and raise you one."
You laughed, and my friend and I slipped out.


If you see this, THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME and thanks in advance for writing your next song about me with lyrics that go something like, "her jokez are so hilarious, I crap my pants when I think of her." 

You Said it Was Fate

You were riding your motorcycle on 5th ave and saw me walking home. You pulled over and started talking to me mostly about yourself. Apparently you're really great and Italian and a music producer and develop brownstones and fly all over the world at will. You asked me my name and then, "are you in love?" to which I replied, "there are many kinds of love" (subtext: get the hell away from me) You were cute until you wouldn't shut up. The next day you called and texted leaving messages saying it was fate the way we met and it must mean something. But I kept wondering--while I wasn't responding--how it could have been fate when you went out of your way to pull over to the side of the road?? I finally told you that I got back together with my boyfriend, and THEN you wanted to get together to discuss our feelings and our relationships and how people can screw you over or some shit. If you see this, I lied...big time. 

You're Gonna "Have Something" for Me?

You and I both got off at the same bus stop in the Crown Hizzle. I have a slight cough and walking behind me, you said, "gotta do something about that coat." I thought it was a weird threat regarding my leather coat (cause one time at a mall my mom was threatened for fur and she didn't raise no fool) so I said, "what?" And you simply meant that I needed to get a bigger coat or some shennanigans cause I was coughing. You kept asking me questions as I continued walking several paces ahead of you, and I had to keep turning around to answer them. You asked my age, not appropriate to ask a lady, and finally I told you. After all the personal questions about my health, you ended with, "do you get high?" Um, no, and certainly not with you. What kind of non-sequitur was that?? Like, were we about to establish a dealer-buyer situation right then and there? Were we supposed to hang after that and get free pizza in Williamsburg? Was I supposed to guess your age until you relented and told me you were 45 (just guessing)? As a final farewell as I walked across the crosswalk you said, "next time I see you, I'm gonna have something for you...you know what I mean?" I shouted back, "I think I do." If you see this, WHAT JUST HAPPENED???? And what, WHAT, are you going to have for me???

To the Three People Who Were Saving Three Seats at a Sold Out Showing of "Up in The Air" Thereby Making Tons of People Sit in the First Three Rows and Crane Their Necks While Your Friends Showed up Late and Got Ballin Seats

If you see this, pat yourselves on the back for being panormous dickheads.

You Told Me to Calm Down

My friends and I heard of the magical land that is Alligator Lounge in Williamsburg, tasty free pizza with every drink?!? When we went I admittedly had low expectations of said pizza, but the bartender was super stoked with us when we told him it was our first time, propz to him for being so fuggin delightful. My friends and I set a timer on our phones to countdown the 5 minutes until tastytown. When I went back to the kitchen area to retrieve my hard-drank pizza, I let out a squeal of girlish delight, and you, the chef, told me to calm down. I was getting a free personal pizza, and you told me to CALM DOWN. Are you telling me that every other night of the week, drunk people don't come into that bar and get super EXCITED to enjoy an amazing pizza (that I'm sorry I ever underestimated)? It was the most wonderful thing to happen in my mouth that week, and you should be so grateful to work around such delicacies. If you see this, let me know when you work next, I have a megaphone I'd like you to meet.