OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!

I am sitting at the bar at Fantastico's Genuine Italian Bar and Grille in Centreville waiting for my parents to show up and Brian Mitchell is sitting next to me. He's drinking a strawberry margarita. I'm staring at him and his drink. He's wearing a blue button down shirt and grey pants. They fit him really well. I also like his shoes.

This is great. Uh-oh my parents are here. My dad sometimes backhand slaps me when he sees me using my Blackberry. Mark Out.

Figure It Out, Clowns

Hello. I am Mayhugh.

Jerry and Geoff think they’re so smart. Just ask them. But they can not figure out something that is very simple. There seems to be some mystery about why I don’t hang out with them or anybody they know.

Just think about it. I am not gay. I am not a douchebag. I am not a hermit. I do not have a secret life. It is very simple.

I just don’t like you.

Look at me, I’m Geoff. I tuck my shirt in on the weekends. I wear loafers to the grocery store. I eat appetizers that are more cultured than Jalepeno Poppers. I make “reservations.” I use “big words.” I check my Outlook calendar to see if I have enough time to take a crap.

Then you probably wipe your butt with a pocket square.

Look at me, I’m Jerry I can’t get a girlfriend because I’m watching college hockey. I think I’m an adult because I don’t have disgusting Dewey couches anymore.

Let me tell you something, Jerry, baseball is stupid. My bathroom is five times as big as yours. Remember that time I fouled you and you screamed like a girl? That was nothing. I will bury you next time. Just wait, Jerry. I'm stronger than you. I will out-fight you. I will out-lawyer you. I have a really cool car and you don't. Get a decent haircut.

And the rest of you, I don’t like you either. We are almost six weeks past the holiday season, so we can consider this my Festivus Airing of Grievances.

Ted – You’re not the one who gets to live in the country and impress the townies with a cool cell phone. I am. Me. Mayhugh. I dominate Fairfax. Reston is no Fairfax and you are no dominator. You’re not the one who gets all the attention for having giant knees. I am. I’m the one with huge knees. That was my thing. Now you took it and you don’t even appreciate it.

Greg – I don’t know what’s worse, a non-punctual German or your inability to make an original joke. You dress weird. I’m not impressed with your carousing. Mine is better. You. Drive. MY. CAR. Check-Mayhugh.

Swint – I WILL JAM YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Slater – Slater is actually a nice guy. I don’t know why he hangs out with you jerks. I would have dinner with Slater at Quizno’s if he asked me. His clothes are too baggy though.

Carter and Bill – Having a family doesn’t make you better than me. Actually, to be honest, I am kind of impressed by people who have kids. And I am always honest. Always. Honest. Mayhugh. A-H-M. That’s what I call myself.

Swint – I’M SERIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TJ – You have the name of a 10 year old and the attention span of a 5 year old. You don’t make fun of me. I make fun of you. Drinking during the day doesn’t make you cool. You can’t even do a pull-up. I hate you.

You, Lieutenant Weinberg?????

Rob and Rich – I don’t know either of you but I hear that you’re short and you like baseball. Those are two of the most despicable qualities a man can have.

Whitney – Is a girl’s name. I could respect you if you had a good name like Rick or Mark. But not Marc. That’s a stupid name.

Swint – YOU. BOWL. NOW.

That's the story. I'm having fun in Fairfax. I have a rewarding career that compensates me quite generously. I have a sex life that would make all of you blush. I watch four-star movies. I can run 10 miles. I can eat 3 Chipotle Burritos. I have everything. I don't respond to you because I don't want to hang out with you. And by the way, I'm not really out of the office every day. I just had the IT people set up a filter to respond automatically to people that I don't like.

Mustaches and Mopeds

Nothing proves a man is a man like the burly cocksuredness of being comfortable around mustaches and mopeds.

Mature Mark

As some of you know, I turned 30 years old recently and I have had to make some changes. Have no fear I am still the #1 ranked drunken bachelor of Fairfax. The following are some of my maturity action items:

Wardrobe: I have given all of my ribbed shirts to charity. Back in 2003 when I became skinny and cool, I thought it was awesome to wear ribbed shirt to places like Third Edition. Since then I have been wearing my Ashworth collared shirt to bars every week and the response has been fabulous. Clubby Mayhugh has been put to rest and golfy Mayhugh has taken his place with erotic results. Now some poor person will have the pleasure of being ribbed and great like me.

My Home: Several people have observed that my home furnishings looked like discards from the set of The Brady Bunch. The first step in “sprucing up” my “pad” was to buy new drapes. I wanted something classic yet manly. Flowers were out because I think my dad would think it’s fruity. So I chose tan drapes with pictures of wheat on them. Wheat is a staple of the American diet and one of the most wholesome crops that I am aware of. I also like the scene in Gladiator when Russell Crowe is walking through the wheat fields. That’s a four star movie.

Personal Grooming: No changes needed here. I am still ahead of the curve and my Neanderthal acquaintances with $50 haircuts and twice weekly manicures. I have tried to do my part as an American by insisting on seeing documentation papers for the Asians that manicure me. No longer will illegals massage my delicate paws.

Fantasies: As many of you know I fantasize a lot. Most people think that Mayhugh is some meat and potatoes boot-wearing steak-tender, but I have always had a rich and creative tapestry of dreams. I was reading through my Log of Fantasies, or “Fant-Log”, and I have made some major changes without even realizing it. I used to dream about making a tackle for loss against Chantilly and receiving anonymous gifts of wings and sausage. Now I think about things like finding a really great coupon for dinner at Morton’s and getting a job as an assistant contract specialist for the prequel to Commando.

Giving Back: Tuesday is ping-pong night at the old folks home so I go down there and show them who’s boss. (Hint…it rhymes with Gayhugh) But I’m not gay. I also give a book of stamps to a homeless person every week.

Halloween: Even though I have been making changes, I am sticking to my boyhood roots. So I went to the Halloween Party at the Fairfax Community Center as a Centre-Villain.

This is what my life is like now

Every day. Pounding it. At work. At lunch. I think I even have sex when I'm sleeping. It's so easy for me now.

HELLO

This is Mark. I'm worried that blogger is going to shut down my diary if I don't post anything. Little do they know that I would lawyer them into the dirt if they tried to pull a stunt like that. They would have paper work stuck in their teeth for days. That wouldn't bother me very much because I have very strong teeth. Sometimes when I'm running 10 miles on my treadmill I tie floss around my teeth just to see if I can pull them out. I can't. And I'm pretty strong. When I was 10 my dad made me walk into town to buy milk and I had to carry all 10 bottles back by myself. Sometimes if he was drunk he would shoot at me with a BB gun for kicks while I was walking. One time he hit one of the bottles. He thought I would freak out and drop the other bottles but I didn't. My dad is a pretty cool guy. That's what I would do if I had kids. But that's not going to happen for a while because no girl can tie me down. Now that I have cool car I'm even more unstoppable.

Recently I've been doing a lot of reading. I read a book about how a cow turns into a steak. It was pretty interesting. It made me hungry. But not for steak. I wonder if the cows have names. They probably don't. I wonder if I would eat steak from a cow named Mark. I probably would. But only if it was a porterhouse.

I need to buy more power tools. I don't know what I would use them for. It just seems like something I should have.

I signed up for golf lessons. The instructor's name was Pierre so I told him to go to hell and I took off. Pretty fast.

I started buying my socks at Banana Republic. They feel much nicer on my feet than the Wal-Mart socks I used to buy.

I wonder if I would still hook up so many chicks if I shaved my head. Probably. I have a nice scalp. That's what my hairdresser says.

I'm thinking about buying a tuxedo. The gay guy at my office told me to do it. He's usually accurate when it comes to textiles. I think I deserve it. My mom would be impressed if I owned a tuxedo.

I have to go feed my snake now.

I’m Cooler than Guy Lombardo

These days I can’t look into a mirror or any other semi-reflective surface without contemplating how cool I am. Way cooler than those other guys. So I’m going to make a list of people who aren’t as cool as me. Here’s the first chapter.

The Guy From the Cingular Commercial – You know, the Dukes of Hazard guy. He says that song is his theme song. He’s wrong because it’s my theme song. Two people can’t have the same theme song. It’s immoral. And it looks like he cuts his own hair. Probably when he’s drunk on moonshine. I deserve to be on that commercial. I get 47 dollar haircuts. People say that’s too much, but I’ve realized that my appearance is important and I have lots of money because I am a lawyer. Slater told a girl that I made $500,000 a year. I don’t make that much but I wish I did so I could get even more expensive haircuts. Then I could definitely be on the Cingular Commercial. I bet that guy doesn’t even Nair like I do. I’ve been doing a lot of upper body stretching so I can Nair my entire back. People who aren’t as flexible as me are left with patches of hair on their backs. And that’s not cool. Not as cool as me.

Jerry and Geoff – Those guys used to go out more than me. Now I go out more than them. I can drink a lot and I don’t get hungover because I take a lot of vitamins and sleep in a king sized bed with lots of pillows. And when I go out, I mean business. I take shots. Lots of them. I talk to girls. Lots of them. Those guys used to do it, but now it’s Mark’s turn. I’m so cool that I even talk about myself in the 3^rd person sometimes. When somebody buys some Jager, Mark takes it on. And dominates it. Jerry shirks away like a frightened Chantillian. On Friday night when Geoff is eating tapas with a little baby fork, Mark is rocking out on the dance floor. Whether it’s singing along to Journey or getting gropey to Gold Digger, Mark dominates the dance floor. And he goes home happy. Boo-yah. You know what I’m talking about. (whispering) S-E-X…with a girl….

The Other Guys at the Tanning Salon – I can bench way more than those guys. They’re all sissies compared to Mark. Fredrico, enough with the hair gel. And Chase, decide you’re going to be a cowboy or a sailor already. Those guys all wear shiny shirts. According to the back issues of GQ that I’ve been buying off eBay, shiny shirts were not cool in 2003. Also, I think some of those guys are gay. Advantage Mark.

Obviously this list is harshly abridged because I’m cooler than so many people. I have to get in a quick tan and body Nair before heading off to my manicure appointment at 3. Then I’m going to run 14 miles on my treadmill while my neighbors stand around and watch and hand me Jager shots. I am awesome.

MARK