Posts Tagged 'the makeover'

an african lion would just pee on him

okay, this calls for a mushy announcement.  my dear dyer lunatic has been boldly announcing our new relationship on his blog with the courage of a well-rounded, feeling 21st century man.  time for ME to cowboy up and bare my sappy soul to the blogosphere.

i, Ernie Whatsherface, am in love.  for the first time in my life.  at 31, i know.  who knew this would be the next chapter in my transformation?  tiger and i thought we'd just go out a few times to introduce me to the world of dating.  he made me dance at a wedding and plenty of other firsts i listed in my makeover post.  then he went away to school.  i started striking out on my own, dating some really strange men.  okay, one really strange man.  once.  (that's a good story for another day.)

tiger and i kept in touch, sometimes happily, more often arguing, misunderstanding or hurting each other.  that should have been our first clue.  then he came home for a visit and suddenly things were different.  terrifyingly different until we talked it through and realized that we both felt different in the same way.  we were falling in love.

for any other social tards out there, i must record for posterity that love feels kinda funny.  sometimes like indigestion, sometimes like an arrhythmia i should really have looked at.  there have been fevers, mood swings and fainting spells.  there have been rashes.  not those kinds of rashes.  i just get hives when i'm nervous.

while I am a socially-stunted 31, tiger is a courageous 19 with a trail of exes.  i had no idea, but informing them all has been quite the drama.  the toughest one yet was just tonight, sparking this post which promised you the reader mushiness.  i lied.  it is in reality ME STAKING MY CLAIM.  Like so:

dude's mine.  get over it.  and get your own.

there, i think that should do it.  now i just have to gang tag his myspace, facebook and deviant art accounts.  i'm thankful this isn't the african savannah, or i'd be seriously out of pee by now.

excitingly, i am taking my first trip to tiger's school this weekend so i can see his dorm, his classes, his friends, his cafeteria, etc.  i don't know that i've ever been so excited to visit anyone.  or heard of so many people offering anyone so many condoms.  nice, people.  way to sleaze it up.  but thanks for the thought.

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the makeover IS never over, doubletrue!

the stache is gone.  that's right, people, i'm discussing UNWANTED FACIAL HAIR with the WHOLE WORLD.  but, as a friend of mine once sagely said, "everyone needs hair removal."  so i forge on.  friends who know me might have noticed my growing obsession with my (albeit blonde) misstache.  the obsession was growing because the stache was, i swear.  after contemplating lasers, wax and maybe calling in some professionals, i just went old school on the stache's ass with a pair of tweezers yesterday.

of course, i could have chosen a better time to do it than during my morning routine.  YOU just try eating lunch at Friday's, surrounded by loved ones who are telling you bald-faced (no pun intended) lies about "looking fine" while you can feel the swelling impairing your speech.

but now that the inflammation has gone down, my lips are as soft and smooth as a baby's butt.  just kiss me and see!  but then you'll have to kiss a baby's butt.

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finally i explain the point of this blog

everybody loves a makeover, right??  well, that's what everything is edible is ALL ABOUT!!  only, instead of taking only one hour including commercials, MY makeover has taken almost THIRTY YEARS!  sadly, 99% of it has been just in the last year.  but with my 31st birthday coming up on monday, i am celebrating with a retrospective, called:

how i stopped being a neurotic hermit

and started being a socially inept work-in-progress

so i used to be afraid of everything.  to see what my life used to be like, read this book:

or watch this show:

yeah, that was me.

actually, THIS was me:


okay, so i tried to come out of my shell during college, but it really didn't take.  i made earnest attempts to meet strange people, engage in stressful activities and pose awkwardly for group photos.  like so:


and so:

as you can see, i'd begun to adopt socially accepted values like hygeine and posture and fashion not involving pictures of animals.  but i'm still not quite with it.  if you zoom in, you'll notice i'm wearing a look that says, "what am i doing here?" or maybe, "who are these people i'm with [not pictured]?"

anyways, long story short, some of the strange people i met turned out to be very insistent and MADE me do things like stay out after dark, eat dairy products, say no, accept their help, accept their compliments, D&D, midnight JBX runs, homestarrunner, all your base, discuss philosophy, read manga, draw better, swear more, improv badly, improv less badly, not care that i was improv-ing badly, be outnumbered by males, be myself, flirt, crack jokes, crack bad jokes, think in the gutter, math, have an opinion, be a redhead, blog, podcast, move out, care, dance at a wedding and drive to Tucson.

at the same time, they remained patient through all my wimping out, backing out, cancellations, excuses, tardiness, hand-washing, panicking, faking, no-shows, embarrassing public vomiting (just once), shy silences, incessant babbling, apologies, rants, breakdowns, B.O., wigging out, tears, epiphanies, resolutions, failures, broken promises, lost credit cards, incomplete drawings, abandoned webcomics and keeping borrowed books and cds too long.  in short, i'd never really been a friend before.  they let me practice on them.

that was last year in a nutshell.  i've changed so much.  the world around me is no longer fear, but food.  every situation can be digested and turned into new facets of my identity, not to mention bloggable satire and poop jokes.  everything is edible.  …except poop.  don't eat poop.

anyways, i'd show you a picture of myself at thirty, but i wasn't taking pictures then.  i didn't really like myself.  but here's me a year later (like a few minutes ago):


thanks, guys.

not that i'm not still a social retard.  i am.  but no more than you and the rest of the world.  where would be the humor in being perfect?

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