Posts Tagged ‘wtf’

I love subways. Put two native New Yorkers in an enclosed space, virtually take away their cell phones, and interesting shit happens. That’s why i love the subway. Something about looking out at the Lower Manhattan skyline and the Brooklyn bridge through grimy, scratched-up windows of a rickety subway car on a hot summers day has tempers and perhaps hormones flying.

Trust me on that last one.

A few weeks ago, while coming back from work, which is no longer in DUMBO, I walk onto a train car and sit down next to…a cute girl. No I wasn’t creeping; it was the only empty seat. Or one of the last 50 empty seats.


Some dude walks up to me, leans over and softly whispers in my ear “Can you help me out, perhaps spare 50 cents?” Now THAT’S creepy. I didn’t give him the money.

Needless to say, she overheard and thus began our conversation about NY, homeless people and jobs. Subject of nationality came up, I asked her if she was black, and she said no, she’s white, and Jewish. I should’ve known. Anyway we’re talking about whatever two people talk about on a subway, which is usually meaningless banter, except by now she knows my background; the average white guy doesn’t know names of girls seminaries in Israel unless he’s been there, done that.

Been there. Done that. Get it?

Nah I kid, the worst (best?) that I did in Israel was get drunk with friends. And without. And not much more. Long story, wrong forum.

Back to this girl. I’m talking to her, and I’m staring at her. Now I can’t figure out why, I mean I know she’s cute, but I’m looking at her because something about her is familiar. [insert creep horror movie soundtrack here]

She gets a text from Jonathan. Ya I saw her screen. How else would I know? It was at that moment that I looked at her, and almost in what seemed to me slow motion, I said you’re dating Jonathan So-and-so! [Inner wheels in my brain screech to a halt. That’s my dudes girl here. Whoa. Backtrack, reboot. Whoops?]


“Your name is Leona, or Leora…Kaplan”

“Yes, my names Leora Kaplan!”

“Ya, your boyfriend, who’s a friend of mine, (whom I only met twice in my life…) has your face as his profile picture.”

Now I’m really not the Facebook stalker type. I don’t recognize people before I meet them. That’s some Inception shit right there.

(Although I just yesterday recognized someone I’d seen briefly, by putting her first name and the person who mentioned her first name together with memories of a certain Racheli who’d been dating an English friend of mine two years ago…maybe I have a knack for names. I should be a private investigator.)

But hey, it’s NYC. It’s the subway.

We spent the next 10 stops marveling over how in a city of 9 million people, I bump into the one person that I don’t know, and recognize.

Oh, and both of you, “Leora and Jonathan”, next time you come to my neighborhood I’ll get a few friends together and we’ll all reminisce about the old times. Whatever old times you want.

“Stand clear of the closing doors please. The next stop is 34th Street.”

Encounters 3, 4 and 5 will be combined into one post. Stay tuned later this week.


A Hasidic guy tries to have an affair over craigslist. WTF? Here’s the post from Gothamist.

When Did Woohoo! Become a Word?

Posted: February 28, 2011 in Random
Tags: , , , , ,

Your local WaMu Bank Teller

I remember the day quite vividly. I was walking past a WaMu Bank and noticed a sign announcing what mustv’e been good news. The sign read something like “WOOHOO! Get $200 when signing up for a WaMu account today!”.


Did they just say WOOHOO!?

My potential financial institution, the people responsible for safeguarding my finances, saying WOOHOO! like some skinny drunkard with tattered shorts running down the alleyway, cracked beer bottle in his hand, yelling WOOHOO! I knocked that guy in the bar out but good!

Besides, what’s the logic of signing up to get $200? I should sign up with a bunch of adult-children who will surely make paper airplanes out of my money, because they hide behind a colorful sign and a cheap suit they bought at Goodwill?

Not that I have anything against Goodwill.

At all.

I’m sure they do wonderful things for the children of Africa.

Or is that the Red Cross?

Oh, and did I mention, the WaMU sign had a bird on it. A little yellow BIRD. Now HOW is a bird going to convince me to sign away my life to WaMu?

Besides who the hell decided to give a bank a nickname??

My nephew gets a nickname. My dog gets a nickname.

It’s cute.

My BANK does not need a nickname. I do NOT want my bank sounding cute.

I shudder thinking about the marketing team meeting that went into the development of the WOOHOO! I imagine some guy, definitely in a crumpled suit, possibly having not showered that morning after having slept on the couch all night because his wife kicked him out. Which brings me to another point about who gives her the right to do so. It’s probably his house anyway, she should just stay in the kitchen making sammiches all day. But that’s another story.

Back to our meeting. So Mr. Crumples suit, yawning, gets up in front of 10 people, probably all interns, and blurts out the phrase his one year old son was making all night long –  WOO-HOO!

So the young interns, being over eager and burning to succeed in the glamorous world of the WaMu tellers, write down on their note pads “WOOHOO!”

And then Mr. Crumpled Suit farts and promptly falls asleep.

Traffic Jam…Let’s Dance!

Posted: December 7, 2010 in Religion
Tags: , , ,

Dancing KittehI really don’t like covering the antics of Yeshiva guys so much because I’m no longer preoccupied by what they’re up to as I was when I originally left it, but coming on the heels of the People’s Court video, it’s only fair to shed some better, if not slightly psychotic light, on the “community”.

These dudes were stuck on the highway so started dancing.

Besides, it’s kinda hard to hate Chabad.

My only correction here is that the music was sounded like a Jewish remake, not the original.

Just got home from a very long day went onto Facebook and a friend sent this to me and I’m not quite sure what to think…

So…were the religious people lying or not? Some people on YouTube seem to think they were pretending to be religious but I don’t agree – their heavy Flatbush accent gives them away.

The point where the Judge seems to be wrong is that a wig isn’t live hair so shampoo won’t fix that damage. The hair is dead, and I’m no expert on wigs but that wig seems to have been past the point of no return.

They do seem to be lying, though it could be she was wearing a long wig from another company and just got flustered. I certainly walked away with a bad taste in my mouth.

P.S. Just finished writing this and thought to check Frum Satire when I noticed Heshy Fried already did a piece on this one and in all likelihood my friend found it on his blog, but here it is anyway.

I have a few things to vent about, hope noone minds.

I always see weird searches that people typed in. But today among the typical list of searches such as “hot chani”, “lubavitch off the derech”, and “brad pitt depression” (can’t believe that article is  still being read), was one that read “people that sleep with dead people”. Now what exactly have I written that even remotely relates to that morbid topic??

Ever go out with friends drinking, shopping, eating to the movies or whatever else you may be doing, and you’re short on cash? You’ll borrow say $2 for a can of soda, and promise to pay back. Either he’ll say nah bro don’t worry about it, or he’ll let you pay back. But what I don’t understand are the friends who, upon lending you a couple bucks, will ask you to buy them a drink as payment when out drinking next time. Take the following scenario:

You: Hey dude, you got an extra 2 bucks on you? I gotta buy a drink or I’m gonna fuckin faint!

Friend: Sure dude, here ya go!

You: Aaight thanks man, I’lll hit you up next time.

Friend: It’s cool bro

The next night:

You: Hey dude, wanna go out to that club tonight with some chics? Heard it’s gonna be sickkk.

Friend: Sure lets go!

At the club:

You (screaming over loud thumpy music): Yoo lets go get wasssted!!

Friend (screaming equally loud, trying to be heard over loud, thumpy music): Yea dude lets go!

You (to hot chic behind the bar): Heyy can I get a vodka with 3 limes?

Friend ( to bartender): Hey I’ll have one of those too

Bartender: Sure, that’ll be 11 dollars each.

Friend to you: Hey bro I got you the other day, so you got my drink aaight?

Why does a friend spotting you a measly $2 give him the right to assume I’m gonna pay $11 for his overpriced drink the next night, as if buying him a drink is an acceptable method of paying back any loan, no matter how small in comparison to the drink.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no cheapskate (yea I know I’m Jewish) and would gladly buy the my friend a drink if he’s a bit tight on cash, he’s my friend after all! But it’s the idea that people assume that I’d be buying them a drink as payment. Why can’t I just take out my wallet like a normal person and hand him over the 2 bucks?

About hookers: Ever wonder how they fucked their first client? I don’t mean positions, just…how? How’d they go from being a normal person to a hooker?? But I guess like the song from Lazy Boy TV goes: “It takes alot of drunk daddies to get a girl to blow a goat on the internet”.

Lastly and most disturbingly, anyone wonder how the hell their grandparents are able to have sex? I mean she’s all old and wrinkly! And she’s my grandma! I’m usually not this sick, just this image made me wonder…

Fios Gartels and Porn Stars

Posted: October 20, 2010 in Religion
Tags: , , ,

I had no other image to post and this one seemed to say it all. Whatever "it" is.

Just wanna blurt out two small tidbits from the depths of my brain.

I had to step in for a Minyan today at my company…can’t exactly refuse that if they insist- they’re paying me after all. This dude there was wearing one of those wire cables you use for a laptop, as a Gartel!

I say the dude should’ve used Fios cable; he’d have had a faster connection. But seriously, WTF.

Next: My friend found all his old Yeshiva stuff, notes, books, etc. and mentioned to me jokingly (or maybe he was serious…) he wants to burn that shit. Said he was traumatized by the memories. He had some pretty shitty experiences so I don’t blame him, though I can’t say I’d actually BURN anything of my own. That’s a pretty intense action, but I’ll be more than happy to supply the lighter fluid.


I think one of my biggest issues with the Yeshivish world, and in part the religious world in general, is they love suppressing independent thought and creativity.

I walked into my family’s Sukka the other day for dinner. My 4 year old nephew looks at me, and exclaims “Hey why you not wearing Shabbos clothes?!” I understand my sister wants to instill certain values in her children, but isn’t there a right way to do that? If the child will assume their way is the only way and anyone else is the different one, isn’t that wrong?

I understand she wants her child to believe firmly in the values she holds so true and important, but can’t we save the “musts and must nots” for things more important than the clothes you prefer your child to wear on Chol Hamoed??

I find it scary that her 4 year old child is that narrow minded. In fact I hadn’t thought children that young could be narrow minded.

Sitting in a recent computer class I noticed how the the many of the Yeshivish students could barely use the most basic functions of Word. Their was one Chassidish guy who didn’t know how to highlight a word! After all, why would they ever be interested in computers?? Learning is what’s important and that’s it!

Ever notice how an absurd amount of Frum people work in Accounting, Real Estate, or nursing homes? That’s because they aren’t interested in a particular field. They aren’t interested in anything in particular. That’s kinda scary too.

Thankfully I find myself very strongly interested in a number of fields, yet i still harbor resentment towards my parents, for had things been different growing up I probably would have been alot further along the path I am pursuing. But can’t live in the past can I?

Sometimes I feel as if I’m surrounded by people who are about as delusional as delusional can be. This contractor was just in my house, Jewish guy, as he’s leaving he gives one of those pseudo-sighs and starts babbling about how moshiach is on his way it must be! Quoted some Rabbi who supposedly has a direct line to God who said “Moshiach is closer than you may think”. Something about there being so much death in the world, it can only mean he’s coming. My mom agreed and nodded in agreement.

In 1939 they said the same thing! 1492, Crusades, Inquisition! They all said Moshiach was coming then. He hasn’t come.  My mom responded ” but hopefully that was the chevlei moshiach and out grandparents died because of that”. The contractor answered, “Do you believe Moshiach is coming? Well, then we have to prepare!”

I burst out laughing. Hasn’t ANYONE ever told these people Santa was fake?! Poor deprived guy. I’m not saying definitively whether he does or doesn’t exist. I’m saying to cling to the thought he is coming with such conviction, when in fact he doesn’t know for sure is childish.

His then went onto the economy being bad. Firstly, tough shit. I also have no money. Secondly ever heard of the Great Depression?? He insisted today is worse. “In the 1930’s the economy was bad, and it became good. Today we don’t know what’s going on!” Yea, hindsight is always 20/20. My mom said something about it being bad globally, but in the 30’s it was only in the US. Never new the Messiah was so picky.

It could be his life is hard and this is what gives him hope, but to tell others about your fantasy is kinda weird. Almost like he’s trying to convince me. He was spouting on automatic. Spouting. Like a robot repeating stuff.

He sounded like a desperate man trying to say “but he IS real isn’t he? Right?” Like he knew it’s bullshit but, clinging onto the fairytale of his fantasy he remains steadfast in what he made into his belief. Like that’ll convince me.

K so here I am. First day at my new job. And no it wasn’t that post I wrote about my boss. Glad to be done there.

8 am.

Gotta wear my goddam yarmulka- owner is my dads student – thinks I’m religious- really annoying.  I walk in the quiet frum guy walks up to me. Points me over to my new desk and tells me Jonathan – the guy showing me around will be in soon. I wait. Get the code to unlock the computer. Surf the web. Check out the history. No porn. So far so ….good? Definitely a huge Frum Satire fan. Then some rebels something or other jackets. Seems like my predecessor was either some type of Hells Angels dude or he just likes those type of clothes. I’ll find out when he gets here.

8:40 am.

Woman walks in. Not sure of she’s religous or not. She certainly thinks I am. She doesn’t offer her hand. This is just too awkward. Fuck it- ill just offer my hand. This is so silly. When’s the last time I thought about shaking a girls hand?! Wtf.

So the guys was supposed to be hear by 9. I’m still waiting. No sweat. Another dude who looks like life passed him by- he’s only 35-40 walks in. I’d say names Kalman or something. Probably has a fat wife with 3 kids under age 5. This is gonna be interesting. Hopefully ill get my headshots b4 october so I can start auditioning and balance out all this intense religion that just burst onto the SCENE I call life. Its really hot in here. Not sure if its the sun shining on me or the fact that the AC is set wrong. Fuck. I’m tired- I just got back from AC last nite. I’m also hungry- I didn’t eat anything yet.

9:30 am.

Jonathan’s here. Not goth. At all. Ok good. Maybe I’m too judgmental. Its in my blood. Anyway he has to go to Brooklyn for business stuff. I go along. Religion comes up in conversation. Says something about being himself and hugging the girls in the office just because its funny to see everyone’s reaction. I definitely hear that one!

Then- No, I’m not religious. Yes I know I’m wearing a kippa.

Lifes a bitch. Shudda just walked in without it. Or maybe not.

We see a guy on the platform. I immediately try to guess his life story- which yeshiva, where he lives, shomer or not religous level etc. Like I said I’m a judgmental bastard. Yeshiva education- what can I do. And, no my Rabbi didn’t touch me. Surprising, I know. Guess I wasn’t good enough for him.

Then here comes the weird part. I tell Jonathan that I have a blog called Kissmeimshomer, because he mentioned something about Frum Satire. He tell me he has a friend, lets call her Rachel (shout out!). This friend is an avid Frum Satire reader. He says he must call her because she must know who I am. OK.

He calls her. Tells her he’s hanging out with me. She said something like “How’d you manage that??!” (put in high pitched scream here- nah I kid, she wasn’t that excited. I’m defintely blowing this up.) She said she wouldnt know what to say to me, well neither would I. Know what to say to her, that is. So we spoke. I must say it  was a weird feeling to have a complete stranger kind of recognize me. I like. I think I am gonna pursue this acting thing after all. ( which, BTW I am already doing. Great coach- email me for his info.)


We get back to the office. Shit- looks like there’s a MINCHA MINYAN at 2. Damn. Gotta go fake davening- just like everyone else in the room…. and move on. Jonathan shows me gum. Ok…I’ll have one…?  Oh he was trying to say he eats not kosher gum. I hadn’t realized it was the brand he was showing me, not the gum. My bad. He’s a great guy, very modern orthodox but very purposeful about it. If it were possible to convince him that being a hardcore chassid was the truth he’d do it no matter how hard it is. None of that I don’t give a shit thing we  ex faker yeshivish ppl have in us. But no worries- it isn’t possible. And not cuz being chassidish isn’t the truth, although that certanly is a true statement, but because- well you gotta know Jonathan.


Oh ya then there’s the kosher food cooked by the local rabbis wife. Ya sounds like I work in Massapequa. wherever that is. But one never knows, even NYC can have a local  rabbi. Whose wife makes a mean Schnitzel.

Some woman who reminds me of the woman our yeshiva used to employ mentions that its good I’m getting told all the important stuff. Ok…but it is good to know where to get Kosher, well if you kinda gotta keep up the image of a semi nice Jewish boy.

Which I’m not. Nice, that is.


About to leave. Boss calls me over we chat for a while. Nice guy seems to know what he’s doing. We go outside and he shows me around . Not bad. There’s certainly room to move in this company and it could be kinda cool. Time will tell.