The ProofrEADJer, Mid-February Edition

The Guy Who Keeps Bringing Up Star Wars On Dates Strikes Back

So You're Pregnant And Betrayed

The first thing you gotta do is ask yourself, how did I get pregnant and betrayed in the first place? What steps have I taken (or not taken) to leave me vulnerable to this pregnancy/betrayal? Is the man who impregnated me the same one who betrayed me? If I let that person impregnate me, did I not also give unspoken permission for him to betray me as well? These are the questions you should be asking.

Of course, if you kept your legs together/cards close to your vest, you wouldn't be finding yourself knocked up and backstabbed. If you had taken the necessary precautions to keep the wrong man from entering your vagina/circle of trust to avoid propagation/double-dealing, you wouldn't have a bun in the oven and be left holding the bag. 

But what's done is done. There is no reason to be stewing in your hormones/disillusionment and looking at what you could have done differently. All you can do now is pick up your uterus/chin and move forward.

But let this be a lesson to you- be more careful before you let a man conceive a child with you/sell you down the river. Don't let that man's sperm fertilize your egg/double-cross you. Here's a rule of thumb: don't let the guy who fucked you fuck you. Fuck you.

Any mother can be an idiot. And obviously any idiot can be a mother.

Are You Gail Larkin Experienced?

The following entry was submitted by the soon-to-be-traveling-to-Seattle Andrew Gall:

Few people are truly "legends" to me. Ken Griffey Jr was one back when I was 12. Ricky Gervais, he comes pretty close. Gail Larkin. That's one legend I've been wondering about for awhile. For the uninitiated, she’s the head of Hobbit Travel, that juggernaut of a company that has kept fat pockets thanks to handling C-K’s travel for many years. People have often speculated, however, why this is the case. The overall incompetence and mishandling of unsuspecting creatives’ travel itineraries have resulted in shenanigans both humorous (receiving plane tickets on your chair the day AFTER you return from your trip) to the extremely unfortunate (John Reid sitting next to a 320 lb. Samoan comes to mind, though John did report that he was a very nice guy). It’s a strange corporate travel world where middle seat is the norm, a world where a strange woman, seemingly behind a curtain (or possibly, though it’s never been proven, in one of those weird Chicago suburbs that all sound the same to me), decides the fate of unsuspecting creatives agencywide. But that’s not all that strange. We’ve come to accept it. But let’s face it: the woman herself is just plain weird. She has a voice of the woman who table danced 50 years ago, then smoked 54, 322 cigarettes all in one sitting afterwards. Daily. She sounds almost like a vocoder, though not in a cool, Roger and Zapp kind of way. But I digress.

I met this woman. She is as weird in person as she is on the phone. I found her as a little, sweet old lady wandering aimlessly throughout the office. She came upon my cube, examined the nameplate, and did a most bizarre thing. She held up a sign, as if she were a mute, that said “do you know who I am?” I did not. She then began to speak. I understood. That was the day that I met the legend Gail Larkin. She does exist.

PS: I don’t know what table dancing is.

(pictured above, Gail Larkin and Peter K in happier times)