A few weeks ago, one of the bloggers saved on my Google Reader was talking about how she went to see the “Sex and the City” movie with three of her best girlfriends, and I was like, Meh! All of my ‘girlfriends’ [a word that I would never actually use, even in my head] have already seen it without me! I’m a loser! Not that I had any desire to see it, you know, but it was the principle.
But then my friend Emily came back from vacation in Germany and wanted to see it. And then my friend Beth moved back to NYC after living in California for a few months and wanted to see it. And then our friend Mike said that he wanted to see it, and he’s gay, so he totally counts as a girlfriend. And then we somehow coerced our friend Jack into seeing it, despite the fact that he’s straight AND has never seen the show.
This caused great joy among the other guys in the office, and the guy-iest of them all, Nik, created the following to commemorate the occasion:
Interestingly, I really liked the movie, despite the fact that feminists everywhere should be having a total field day with it. I even cried during it. Twice.
17 Comments
Yeah, I still don’t know why I went. But on the bright side, I at least got to be Charlotte, who’s the opposite of the slut that you are (in the picture .. not in real life .. I think ..)
Yeah, but your boobs are totally the smallest of the four. And therefore I win on two counts.
That is so funny. I felt the exact same way. A bunch of friends were going to see it, but I didn’t bother going. Then later I felt left out and couldn’t find anyone to go with. I can wait for the DVD…
The great thing is that before we went, I sat at my desk and applied some lipstick, and one of my co-workers was like, “Who are you trying to impress? All of the single thirty-year-old women who’ll be there?” Ouch.
If it makes you feel better, there was a lone GUY in the row to the left of us. So you seeing it alone would definitely be a step up.
Why are you surprised that you’re Samantha? Who would you choose to be otherwise?
By the way, I was totally going to say that I’d make out with Jack, but then I saw that he replied, indicating that he reads this, which would make it rather awkward. But then I remembered that I revel in awkwardness, so I decided to tell you anyway. I win!
Emily’s way sluttier than I am. (Just sayin’, Emily.) I’m obviously Carrie. With, like, 100 extra pounds and a bunch of $20 shoes.
I made sure to point out your comment to Jack yesterday, since he often only scans my blog for words in bold so he can get the important stuff. He said he was going to go back to his desk and read it, but I haven’t heard anything from him since, so I’m assuming he hasn’t stalked you well enough to find that hot picture of you dancing at your brother’s wedding yet.
Oh, it’s alright. I get that all the time when I go out in that dress :P
By the way, I don’t see anything wrong with reading just the bold letters. They obviously represent the most interesting parts of a post, so why even waste time reading the rest?
Yes, but what is the punchline without the setup?
Also, I would totally wear that dress. And then make out with myself.
Before I ever saw the show, someone told me I was “like, totally Miranda,” then when I saw the show, I was all, “What?! I’m the lesbian? She’s the least cute out of all of them!”
Of course, now that I know a little better, I guess that wasn’t so bad. She’s not a TOTAL douche. And there’s not one of them I’d really like to “be.”
Well, I’d like to be Samantha for like two weeks. In between herpes outbreaks.
Miranda’s totally the least desirable. I mean, even though Charlotte’s husband is fat and bald, at least Charlotte’s not all work-focused and married to a nerdy BARTENDER. (Because if you’re going to have a job that no one respects, have the decency to be good-looking.)
Plus, Miranda has David Bowie teeth. And I don’t mean that as a compliment.
I agree that Miranda’s the least hot (Bowie teeth? Yikes), but that has NOTHING to do with Steve. I’d fuck the shit out of Steve.
This is the funniest thing I’ve seen all day. And it’s already 11am!
Of course the gay dude is Cynthia Nixon. If nothing else, at least we now know how fabulous you’d look with blonde hair.
I mostly just love that this picture of me with the pursed lips was hanging out in the public drive of one of our servers at work. Ahhhh, the faces you make at company outings when there’s an open bar.
I think this is sign that you should try out life a blonde and let us know if it’s really more fun that way. Major points if you also wear billowy just above the knee skirts à la Ms. Monroe.
IF YOU CAN EVEN CALL THAT BLONDE. You can bet I’d be platinum.
Totally unrelated to the current post, but oh well.
This weekend was Comfest in Columbus. And since I am a huge dork and have not even met you, but read your blog ALL the time, I have a momentous Comfest-related occasion to tell you about.
After much imbibing, I was walking/stumbling to a friend’s car which was parked super super far away. It was dark Friday night and we had walked far away from the happy hippie vibe of Goodale Park to the posh and smothering Arena District lots behind Brothers and Spice Bar. In said posh parking lot, I saw a Mercedes whose license plate read “KAMRAN.”
So I yelled for a friend to take a picture and I will someday locate the picture and send it to you. Because even when wasted, I know that these things matter.
Ooooh, weird, so evidently there’s at least one Persian guy living in Columbus. Or maybe one girl who reads my blog and is so in love with my boyfriend that she wanted to let the world know. Of COURSE it was a Mercedes.
These things do indeed matter. I’m awaiting that picture.