I think the key phrase that describes my results would be, “a total fucking disaster”. And no, I did not use the above site.

We all know that people who put themselves out there on dating sites lie like Kim Kardashian on silk Reggie Bush encrusted sheets. That is no secret. From body size, to weight, to occupation and income to penis size, nothing ever measures up to reality and I know that there are 10 disappointing “she told me she was an athlete…but a lineman for the Jets???” stories for every success.

It didn’t take long before I figured out that my odds, time and money we’re better spent at the local boob bar buying dancers heavy-handed Martinis with a roofie mixer than sit and wait for a message from seemingly non-existent ladies. (Note to everyone: Only three people actually exist on Yahoo Personals out of the 100,000 profiles. Me, one woman from Albuquerque and a guy named Jeffery I. Bowelsyndrome. It’s now fact. Because I say so.)

Needless to say, I quit that shit and for the past three years have relied solely on meeting women through ordering pizzas from Fat Tony’s Pizza and Gambling and hoping the delivery person was a) female, b). was mildly attractive and c). did not mind my opening the door with my pants around my ankles and $20 bill tucked into my cock ring.

“C” was not done every time, by the way.

Flash forward to now. I dick around on Facebook a lot in my own version of “Hey…I know you! Didn’t you hump a flag pole with a vat of Crisco in High School?” game. And I’ve noticed more of late that there are sure a lot of ads in the sidebar…dating ads. Like Facebook has joined cahoots with my laptop to remind me that my love life is as active as an old woman’s bowels before buying Activia Yogurt.

But, one thing that really jumps out at me is that it seems like these dating sites aren’t even trying anymore. Their job is to get lonely guys like me to click their link because the “single, hot, 27 year old slender woman that likes to drink Pinot Grigio under the stars” actually looks like she wants ME and me alone. But tell me…

Why did they use a picture of Nancy Kerrigan as that 27 year old the other day? I wish I could have saved that page because I swear it was her. I scrutinized and scrutinized that photo and I know it was…I’m not that stupid you know. I was just plain disgusted. I mean, it’s bad enough that the eHarmony commercials never feature an attractive couple hooking up, but now they put a picture of Nancy Kerrigan circa 1994 as the thumbnail and expect me, a former athlete in my mid-30’s, not to know it was that Mickey Mouse hating bitch?

Goddamn it. Now I know that one of two things are absolutes in this thing called online dating:

1). Every single dating site is nothing but a bunch of lying sacks of shit bullshit artists with zero product that works, kind of like cock pills and Sham Wow or…

2). Nancy Kerrigan is single again and is using the age old online dating tactic of using a 15 year old photo in an attempt to not look like an old hag, even if she still looks like the race horse she was back when Jeff Gillooly went all Mark McGwire on her knee cap.

Either way, put a little effort into it, dating sites. The teens and 20 somethings with hope in their eyes don’t need to know they are being bamboozled…yet.

Anybody want to hook up with me on FB?

Okay. So apparently over the past few weeks of my absence, there was  a new Harry Potter flick released on the big screen. I heard something about it from somewhere, who knows.

Anywho, I took my kids to see the latest Disney blockbuster animated, “gonna market the shit out of this thing until there is a combo/Hannah Montana circle jerk” to this thing. I took them to see G-Force. I spent part of the equivalent of the federal highway stimulus package to buy tickets and a box of Jujubes, and it wasn’t half bad. However, one thing I saw irritated me.

Now, Finstock has destroyed the Harry Potter/Science Fiction movie goers on here a bit. Anyone with a comedic pulse has taken a shot at these fucking losers people at some point, but, I can’t resist.

In line witing for tickets, I met a young troll woman who was paying to see the Harry Potter and the Clown That Never Gets Laid for the, count ‘em…one, two, three…seventeenth time. Yep. Seventeen times. Who the hell does this?

I had to find out. So I asked. Apparently, this person also volunteered that she:

Loves Comic-con.

Has visited Japan to go to the Tokyo Anime museum…twice.

Openly critiques comic-to-movie screenings on blogs and websites (think Jay & Silent Bob Strikes Back “moviepoopshoot.com”).

Owns and collects Dragon/Demon figurines and uses them in role-playing games.

Met her boyfriend at the Renaissance Festival in Holly, Michigan and returns every year to repeat the events of said weekend…wait…

Boyfriend? Tell me about him. No need. Enter dork stereotype and you got it. Actually, before she said this, I was about to tell her that it was all over. Go…braid that pubic fur, wash your hair for the first time this decade and go and join Curves already, but…boyfriend?

Damn it. I guess I am the dork in this equation. At least she gets laid on a regular basis. My joint hasn’t been worked on in, well…you get the picture. Maybe I need some figurines and a regular spot on a Halo 3 blog?

Anyone see anybody like this recently?

I’m not going to beat around the bush here on this one. The damn thing is everywhere now, and let’s face it, Jon and Kate Gosselin getting a divorce is not really “news”.

Divorce in any case is shit, throw in 8 children who know little more than having television cameras waved in their faces all the time, well, I smell years of therapy (and am secretly kicking myself in the balls for not following through with my drunken college decision one night to pursue a degree in Psychology…which I forgot about until, well, now).

I’ve read quite a few pieces on the divorce and it is the usual crapola. Kate thinks the relationship is “irreconcilable” and over, despite her onscreen berating of Jon. Jon states his disappointment publicly, all the while pouring the coal to a 23 year old honey with a size 44 bustline to match her 44 IQ. And in the mix is the Junior VietCong Army. Sad story right?

What I do find amusing in this whole sordid affair is the stance that America has taken on the issue divides right down the “sex” lines.

Women see Kate as an independent, successful woman with a set of apples for taking control of a situation most don’t understand and dealing with the adversity of having so many kids plus a husband who is a “retard”.

Men see Kate as a controlling bitch who is so out of touch with reality, is money grubbing, frigid and a beast of a cow hell bent on personal success at the cost of everyone around her.

I’ve only seen a few snippets of the show over the years and this latest clip of Kate denying her thirsty, whiny brat daughter water while sipping a drink of water in front of her.

I can’t say that I really give a shit either way. Maybe I just like seeing men and women get so bent out of shape at each other over something so asinine and ridiculous as a TV show that made two people more money than I could ever dream of simply for procreating. I mean, maybe I need to lay the pipe to a eight women, get them all pregnant and we can have TLC film me working as an port-a-john cleaner/jizz mopper while I live in a box so I can pay child support.

What do you think about these people? Or don’t you think about them at all?

It was that I was watching for a bit last night on ESPN.

I have to admit, in some ways those ladies out there playing softball I find entertaining. They bust their asses to get as far as they have, some of the players have mad skills, and lesbian jokes aside, some of them are pretty cute.

But the question I have for you is one that comes up every time I see this on the field of play.

I have nothing against the gender equity in coaching. Seriously. I feel that there are many women coaches in basketball or whatever that are highly qualified and better than many of their male counterparts as to the job of coaching Men’s teams. (Pat Summit comes to mind).

So, why is it that I find that men coaching high school or college women’s sports really high on the creepiness factor? It just bothers me and maybe that is my own issue I have to deal with. I just always imagine some middle aged dude with a porn ’stache, nut-hugger shorts and a dicky-doo uniform shirt on.

Mustache Rides in the On Deck Circle...$0.25

And they’re out there to spend inordinate amounts of time with 15-22 year old females not to teach them the finer points of the sport they coach, but to find a way to get some seedy crotch and cameltoe photos to throw some man-onnaise at and submit to voyeur porn sites.

Hence the question. Do you find that there is a certain level of creepiness in male coaches of H.S. and college female teams?

Or am I being entirely too serious about a subject as entertaining as women playing softball with their eye black made to look like mascara running and their rah-rah shit after each pitch?

So rather than just punch in and go on a diatribe about how I think Susan Boyle is giving Simon Cowell the best blowjobs he has ever had, I will hit on a few topics and just ease my way back into the Pointless Banter pond.

Susan Boyle

Speaking of Susan, I don’t quite get the fuss. Don’t get me wrong, Susan Boyle can sing the shit out of 99% of anyone on planet Earth. Her rendition of I Don’t Know the Name Of That One Song Because It Is Ancient on “Britain’s Got Talent” blew me away, and that is no small feat considering that I find fault with everyone’s singing performances outside of my own karaoke nightmares masterpieces, including one recent one involving a twelve pack of Milwaukee’s Best and New Edition’s “Mr. Telephone Man”.

I guess what I mean about the “fuss” is that if anyone thinks for one second that these judges did not know she would come out on stage looking like Miss Field’s and sing her ass off, then you are a complete asshat. Was she good? Yes. Does she deserve the attention is getting? Sure. Just don’t pander to the stupid people of America (see: Bama, -Ala) and tell us that she was a “shock”. But she should have won you bastards.

Hispanic Bottle Return Day

This might be a little regional specific, so all three of you PB readers from the great state of Michigan will completely get this one. The rest of you will have to just hold your breath until I get to my next take, which may or may not include me bashing on PETA.

Today I went into my local grocery store/cheap clothier/Emo Starbucks to return bottles I had drank/collected over the past few weeks. You see, in Michigan, for soda and beer bottles & cans, we get to return them to food places and get $0.10 for each one. This is clearly documented in the Seinfeld episode “The Bottle Deposit”, and before you haul off and say, “that’s fuckin’ sweet, man! Michigan must rock”, know this…

Half of our people are unemployed, every business is bankupt and our governor reminds everyone of the Principal from the movie “Uncle Buck”.

Anyway, we have a huge Hispanic population here, why I don’t know. But we do. And it has become apparent to me that every single Hispanic family in my area considers it great family time to go to their local Meijer on a Sunday and return approximately 1,944 Dos Equis beer cans while the rest of their family runs around thinking the dairy coolers are there for their amusement.

Look. Before you get all huffy and pissy and accuse me of being an insensitive dick hole and a racist, understand this: I love Hispanic cultures. I have lots of Hispanic friends (because this excuse always works, right?). I love them so much I even know there is more than one Hispanic “culture”. I speak Spanish. I love Corona. I love burritos. I love the fact that Hispanic people all have tinted windows and their last names or memorials written into the back of their 1996 Grand Am’s, and they all have tattoo’s in places I didn’t think tattoo artists could legally touch without the courtesy of a reach-around.

Besides I am Polish and we fought the German Army with a Pack Mule and a water pistol and expected to win, so I have no room to talk.

But for the love of all that is holy, please tell Lil’ Pepe to keeps his hands off of my milk while deciding it is good fun to lick the inside glass because it “Se siente mejor que sexo con mi primo”.

PETA

They suck. Any questions? Moving on…

Angelina Jolie and Madonna

Hags. Angelina, how the fuck can you be pregnant every damn week? And if your not pregnant, how the fuck can you be wishing to adopt another kid from some country where “clean drinking water” is considered a liquid that doesn’t have any visible feces floating in it? I say this because you aren’t denying the rumors pasted on the covers of National Enquirer and Star magazines, and if those fish wraps aren’t paragons of literary truth, I don’t know what is.

And Madonna, just because you had a decent number of hit songs dating back to when I eagerly looked under girls skirts by dropping coins and had a Vat of Vaseline under my bed (which might have been yesterday…hmmm), and you now speak with a British accent despite being from DETROIT, that does not give you the right to supercede a nation’s wishes, not to mention laws, to collect another brat from the nation of “Whatarecondoms”.

Both of you. Knock it the fuck off. We live in a country where poor people pro-create all the time in order to get more Gubment money. Adopt one of those kids. Or are our kids here not good enough? Have you seen Detroit lately? It’s a step below “Fecalmatter, Cambodia”. So, if you like those kids, you’ll like ours.

Is there anything else I missed? How the hell have you all been? Finstock…don’t fire me yet.

I am not a big fan of text messaging, but then again I am not a big fan of cell phone use in general, certainly in a capacity that makes otherwise normal people oblivious to everyone around them, fills them with self-importance and makes everyone speak and/or write in garbled gibberish that reeks of ignorance and general douchebaggery. Unfortunately, we all see this kind of assholish indulgent behavior every damn day, most notably from Finstock’s favorite demographic, girls under the age of 18.

I don’t know anything about these hosers other than that they are from Pennsylvania, the land with towns that have fire stations with taverns on top of them. Apparently fighting fires after drinking seventeen bottles of Yeungling is more effective. Who knew?

So, in my attempt to shed some light on these new celebrities, I will use my intuition and years of knowledge gained from gratuitous people watching at malls and high school girls locker rooms various points of interest to paint you a portrait of these guys, so that you’ll know everything about them without having to read anything else.

1. They’re gay. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.)

Really. Two grown men in their late 20’s, early 30’s and they are texting each other 217,000 times a month with little phrases like “LOL” and “Hello” and they aren’t plugging each others assholes? Please. I don’t know of any straight males that text each other more than 3 times a month without feeling the need to go and visit a Hooter’s, drink a Budweiser, fart the alphabet and try to fondle the waitress under her orange shorts, nude colored nylons and other 80’s style gear. “But, Nick has a wife…” you say?

Well, clearly…

2. The wife is a beard.

She’s a ruse. She is  the legal version of the fellas way to  attempt to deflect any possible thought that the two guys are gay. Julie’s vibrator has an extended warranty on it. Batteries are on standing order. Her washing machine is on spin cycle a dozen times a day. And why? Her “hubby” is playing tummy sticks with his BFF, that’s why. HE SENT OVER 70,000 MORE TEXTS than his counterpart, which clearly shows that not only is he gay, and that his wife is a beard, but that he is the one initiating contact more, he is more likely to dress in women’s clothing, paint some rouge on his face and tuck his sac back while filming himself.

3. They aren’t Amish.

They may be from Lancaster, but texting is frowned upon by the Amish community, just like phones, electricity, motorized vehicles and having sex with someone outside the family.

4. They aren’t geniuses.

So, they went to school together a decade ago at the Berks Technical Institute. BTI? Never heard of it. What is that place? The feeder school to ITT Tech? What are they qualified to do after they graduate from Berks Technical Institute? Clean soda can machines and operate CB radios? Sorry. If you want to convince me that you’re even slightly intelligent guys, tell me you didn’t go to a school that even Everest Institute students make fun of.

I can’t think of any more things to say about these guys, other than, “OMG. plz, guyz. u arnt foolin neone. time 2 cum out n show ur real colorz. lol.”

Aren’t broad generalizations and rampant speculation about people you don’t know fun?

Mr. Hilton, that gay guy who looks an awful lot like Jimmy Neutron that just happened to turn a life of watching E! Entertainment television on cable growing up into a “career” asked Miss Prejean during the Q&A session of the pageant, “Vermont recently became the fourth state to legalize same sex marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit? Why or why not?”

She replied, “Well I think it’s great that Americans are able to choose one or the other. Um, we live in a land that you can choose same sex marriage or opposite marriage and, you know what, in my country and in, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman,” Carrie said to a mix of boos and applause. “No offense to anybody out there. But that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think that it should be between a man and a woman.”

Alliterations and beach blonde California-chicky speak aside, she gave what I would say is an honest answer.

Her answer was, in the eyes of Perez Hilton, not a good one, however, and he believes that because of her answer she lost the Miss USA crown.

Hold up, wait a minute. What a load of shit. We are talking about  a fucking beauty pageant. Looking to beauty queens for a pulse on the moral stance in America and intellectual growth is like scouting a Jr. High Dance recital for the next Jenna Jameson. (Quick joke: Jenna Jameson gave birth to twin boys recently and it is the only time on record a male came out of her…)

We all know there are only three reasons a woman loses a beauty pageant:

-Mommy didn’t love the contestant enough to bribe the judges/sabotage the other contestants

-There were not enough sequins on her dress.

- No cameltoe during the swimsuit competition.

Therefore, I don’t think that it the only reason she lost, and if it is, then I call “bullshit” on the entire judging panel for doing one thing…

Creating the same kind of intolerance and closed mindedness that they gay and lesbian movement is struggling so hard to get rid of.

Now, I am not an English professor, nor am I a scholar in anything other than soft core pornography, flatulence and alcohol by volume determination, but, the phrase, “Do you think” and “why or why not” put in the same sentence usually infers that there is going to be an opinion involved in the answer and as we all know, and especially Perez Hilton of all people should understand, opinions are neither right nor wrong, cut and dry.

So, to say that her answer is “wrong” is saying that anyone that has an opinion that differs from that of anyone for Same Sex Marriages is wrong. To place the weight of the entire beauty pageant crown on an opinionated answer is rediculous and quite frankly stinks. Miss Prejean gave an honest response to a loaded question with, in my opinion, no correct answer to be had.

Whether or not you think these same sex marriages should be legally recognized (yes) is neither here nor there. It’s a political, religious and moral standpoint that creates rifts amongst normally rational human beings and turns them into fucking nut jobs. And that makes the question in that particular forum even worse. So, shame on you, Perez. Way to put her and her hot, blonde, nice racked, long-legged, “gee, I’d like to see you in an Oyster Skirt because every time you bend over the world gets to see your oyster” ass on the spot in a environment where disagreeing with your stance is tantamount to burning at the stake.

Now leave her alone, Perez. I hear Lindsay Lohan is up to no good and hair gel is going to start being taxed up the ass.

Wrong choice of words…sorry.

The unfortunate thing about that many people is that invariably, we all have to do combine math and logic, which is never fun. Why? Because math and logic will inevitably prove to us that in this case, a majority of that 529 mill is gonna piss us off.

Here are six people that, as of today, piss me off. This list could be seven types of people, but I will defer “idiot blogger with a huge self of self importance and bad ideas” for you commenters.

6. Student Activists

Why is it that college students feel that they are being listened to? I mean, for years now we have had to see riots on college campuses, protests over war, meat eating, poor athletic performance, global warming, general horsefuckery, etc, all put on by people that should worry less about the icecaps melting and perhaps put some of that water to use with a little thing called “soap”.

Sure, some world events are shitty. They are outrageously shitty. But I don’t think that Darfur is too concerned with what you, Jimmy “HashBrownie” McStinky, have to say in their defense.

And to take that a step further, the shitty thing is that in 10 years you’re gonna wish that you spent less time acting like a fucking retard and more time learning accounting, because my change at Burger King ain’t gonna count itself.

5. Religious folks that deny the theory of Evolution yet love their Pharmaceuticals.

It’s funny because I read where someone thought the same thing, and I was pissed, because I thought about it too.  You see, living in a religiously conservative portion of the country, I get all types of people that force the thought that Evolution is crap, that science is garbage and only the Lord can take care of certain things like health and sickness.

Then I see them in line at the doctors office or at a Pharmacy.

So, which is it? You either think the world was created by God Himself lighting a fart, or you believe Dr. Viagra McRubberglove cures ills…you can’t have both. Science created that pill to help ease your hypertension, for you. Take it and shut the fuck up.

4. Angry Panhandlers

Every week I am approached by some dude who looks like he bathed in a city sewer and his meals consist of used condoms and rat feces. And if that is the case, well, then I guess I would be pissed off too. But that is not the case, because I see these people eat better than I do in a lot of cases. So why the attitude when you ask me for “change” and I don’t give you any? Why must you act so outraged when instead of money I offer you the rest of my meaty, fresh, five…five…$5 foot-loooong?

Because you suck…and you suck because you make more money than I do, in reality. Let’s line up balance sheets, Red Foxx. Odds are with my expenses and my child support, you and the used condom wrapper you ate make more money than I do. So fuck off with that attitude.

3. People (always men) that kill their entire families because THEY fucked up.

These selfish motherfuckers. I don’t get it.

Some unhinged cocksucking scat freak with misfiring synapses that opposes abortion yet goes on thinking that the world is shit and he is “rescuing” his family from it all by killing them too.  Let me say I am all for those that believe in science to come up with a “looney tunes o-meter” so somebody can run these people over with a school bus before they end up being described by their old neighbor, Ms. I. Wearabathrobe as “he was so normal. I never thought he would be a guy to do this.”

2. Political/Financial Pundits

Hi there. I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Unhingedcocksuckingscatfreak. Your advice, (advice that is always wrong yet you are millionaires), on TV made him lose tons of money and now he is going to kill his family and himself. Just stand there and smile.

Fire!

1. Facebook Snobs

I’m not picking on females as a gender here, because a vast majority of you ladies are fucking cool. I mean, “I have lots of women friends, yo.” This is for the minority that have this huge sense of self-importance and feel that every man out there is carrying an Ethyr rag with the intent on knocking them out and bending them over an Ottoman.

Look, ladies. Ahem. I understand that there is a certain creepiness factor within this thing we call “social networking”. A vast majority of us men are only being social. No, we’re not looking to pilfer your 1,022 pictures of you and twenty of your closest friends at the bar tongue fucking each others ears while flashing gang sings, in an effort to further our masturbatory experience. So, don’t flatter yourself toots.

It is a social networking site. Odds are, if we have more than a few “common friends”, we share some of the same interests and hell, maybe even met before. So why the inquisition? “Do I know you? Your name isn’t familiar” or my personal favorite, “I’m married you know.”

Hmmm…does it fucking matter? I don’t care if you have the cure for cancer AND Avian Flu lodged in your uterus. I just asked you to be a virtual friend, jerk! So in the case that I don’t know you, I CAN GET TO KNOW YOU! Asshole.

Good Lord, my systolic is off the charts now.

Well, in case you haven’t noticed, and judging by the extensive, un-fuckin’ believable coverage by most douche and Vagisil infested advertised magazines and TV shows, you have, Lindsay Lohan and Samantha “That Aint Phantom Wood” Ronson have called it quits.

Now, I am among the very few that still live under a rock (see: have a life), so I didn’t know this event had actually happened until about a half hour ago. Believe me, this news rocked me to my core. I’m so sad right now I’m, like, thinking of forging a prescription of Oxycontin, popping them all, buying The Cranberries “Everybody’s Doing It…” CD, putting  “Linger” on repeat for a whole day while I disembowel myself by sitting bare assed on a hot tub suction unit…upset.

I don’t know about you people, but, I clearly am the only one that believes in true love anymore. The quest of two people to find each other spiritually, emotionally and physically on a plane of existence so enlightening and wonderful that one should never dare to imagine such beauty out of fear that the real thing would actually blow it away.

I mean, here we have a mentally stable fucking crazy woman who topped out at the age of 12 and battled back from tremendous odds to become the biggest retard on earth. I mean, her status was in doubt for a while there. Good thing she came through.

On the other hand we have a dude, or a chick, let’s go with an androgynous human being (kind of like Pete Wentz), I guess she’s like good with records and shit, and stuff…

And they broke up? Lord have mercy. How will I ever sleep, knowing that Lindsay is out there on the verge of total collapse because of her love life? Will Dina please step up and use her parenting skills to help out? SHE”S IN HELL MOTHER!

Okay. I can’t write this with a straight face anymore. Let me see if I have my facts straight.

Lindsay Lohan, C-List celebrity coke fiend with a driving record as clean as Ron Jeremy’s tighty whiteys blah blah blah, initially likes the cock, decides that backing herself into (insert random former child actors name here) is not “cool” anymore so she starts dating a chick that wants to be a dude, yet only has the necessary equipment by virtue of ordering one online via shutyourmouthbeforeistickmycockinit.com, presumably just by flagging her down on a street corner thinking she was a dealer…or something.

And that relationship didn’t work?

What’s next? You’re gonna tell me that Digital Underground broke up?

Shit.

Does anyone care about LiLo anymore? Who stole my Digital Underground CD?

I do work with people, it’s what I do. Smile, say something pleasant, nod affirmatively like I am actually interested, mumble “kiss my ass” under my breath, so on and so forth.

I’m a people person for Christ’s sake! I deal with the goddamn customers, what the hell is wrong with you people?

I’m worse when I have a few adult beverages in me…so I am told.

With that being said, I found one particular task I had the other day a trifle weird. I was asked to do a favor essentially, and temporarily become a process server. More specifically, hand deliver a Personal Protection Order to some douche for someone I know.

Since I have a hard time keeping my trap shut in a lot of cases, I knew I would be biting my tongue on this task. And biting my tongue for me is as difficult as solving Harriot’s Method of Solving Cubics. And I suck at math.

So, I ask you all reading, what is appropriate to say when you go to someones door in the evening, pound on it, serve them with legal papers signed by a judge telling a person that “Hey. You are such a creepy dildo that a person went through all the trouble to document your creepiness, go to the police and make sure that you go nowhere within 500 yards of them under penalty of being raped with a plunger handle by a guy named ‘Lucky’.”?

I mean, that message isn’t exactly “How’s the weather”, if you catch my stench.

What can you say if you are serving someone papers that essentially “fuck them in the pooper” legally speaking?

Do you say hello? Do you even tell them your own name? Asking them how their day is going probably isn’t going to help matters? So…what?

Because I just stood there staring at the guy telling him, “I am representing the Circuit Court of Dickhole County and am here to deliver some legal papers”. It was all that I could do to not ask, “So, how ’bout them Red Sox?”, or “Why are you such a creepy asshat?” or “How often do you pound the clown to the image of this person you are stalking?”

While all very valid questions, they might be a tad inapropriate, I’m thinking.

Have any of you people done this? What questions could you ask to make it more pleasant?