
Answer: I have no idea what’s going on inside your head.
Question: What is the most frequent observation of me and my dog?
Balloon shla-moon. That’s a big fat pigeon.
Why didn’t they just fill a horse with hot air?
Do you think it could carry me from the kitchen to the dining room?
Impressive but where do the servants ride?
That reminds me; I need to see a doctor about my giant swollen testicle.
If man were meant to fly, God would’ve given him a softer tush to land on.
What a letdown! I thought “untethered” meant naked from the waist up.
No, they’re waving at me.
Ben Alper writes for late night talk show hosts, comedians and things. He is the author of “Thank You for Not Talking: A Laughable Look at Introverts.”
How can you tell if someone’s natural facial expression is a queasy grimace, commonly known as resting bitch face (RBF), or they are simply downright ornery?
As someone who’s often accused of looking like Jack the Ripper on his worst day – even while happily folding my laundry, I know what it’s like to be constantly asked, “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”
It’s precisely because of my sometime – okay, all the time – less-than-sunny facial expression that I give every angry, moping, sullen, surly face I encounter a free pass. Cutting a few ill-tempered characters some slack is a small price to pay for showing a little empathy for every RBF I meet.
I’ll absorb an icy glance from any might-be psychopath on the off chance they are actually a wonderful person who was voted Most Unapproachable in high school.
As someone who is regularly misjudged as a threat to society or, at the very least, a threat to my book club, who am I to judge folks who don’t say “Hi” while attempting to break into my car?
So your constant look of oncoming nausea regularly causes family and friends to dial 911. Big deal. It still beats trying to force a smile whenever a sales clerk says “Have a nice day.” (Note: According to many studies, so I’ve heard, more crimes are committed by smiling sales clerks than scowling proof readers.)
Will the world ever be more accepting of sullen facial expressions? Probably not. But here’s one thing you can count on: If your angry puss ever encounters my resting bitch face, it will be met with an accepting and non-judgmental frown.
Ben Alper writes for late night talk show hosts, comedians and others. He is the author of “Thank You for Not Talking: A Laughable Look at Introverts.”
Introverts hate small talk. It feels phony, it forces you to make eye contact and it’s exhausting. If only there was a better way to find out how co-workers you barely know feel about the weather.
Unfortunately, there isn’t. Until Apple, Google or Amazon develop a device that talks to the people we want to ignore, the chore will be left to us.
The good news is introverts are smart and resourceful. Also, their rich inner lives make it easier to tune in and out as someone drones on about their granite countertops or which Hampton Inn has the best continental breakfast. (Any introvert knows it’s the one in Denville, NJ.) It’s amazing how far an occasional nod accompanied by “Really” or “That’s interesting” will get you. In the meantime, you can focus on more important things like “Did this woman get a nose job?”
by Shy Skyler
Dear Diary,
Today I begin my new job as a porn star. I’m hoping that being an introvert won’t prevent me from succeeding. At the very least, it can’t be worse than my last job as a court jester at a Saudi Arabian Renaissance Faire.
8:00 A.M. – I arrive on time and am very nervous. The room is full of naked strangers. I hang out by the donuts and a crate of condoms, hoping no one will notice me. Finally, a woman with a tattoo on her buttock, pierced nipples and horse blinders approaches me. She introduces herself: “Hi, I’m Betty the company accountant.” I’m nervous at first, but she’s very friendly and intuitive. We have an interesting conversation about tax shelters and multiple orgasms caused by excessive trampoline play.
9:15 A.M. – I meet my co-star for the morning. Her name is Ina “In My Face” Carona, and she’s immediately in my face with insipid questions like, “How long is your penis?” and “Would you like to have a threesome with a UPS man?” Just once I’d like to meet someone who enjoys talking about more meaningful things like Zen and the art of anonymous restroom sex.
9:45 A.M. – During our first scene, the director keeps telling me to grunt and groan more. Small and insignificant moaning has never been easy for me, so I start panting T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land.” After eight minutes, they assume I’m having a seizure and call 911.
10:15 A.M. – During a scenario in which I’m servicing a naughty nurse and a transgender pizza delivery person, a mixed-race dominatrix keeps asking me, “Why are you so quiet?” Finally, I can’t take it any longer and scream, “Because I’m an introverted cabana boy, dammit!” I thought I ruined the scene, but the director yelled, “That’s great! Use it!”
10:45 A.M. – They want me to join in a group sex scene. At his point, I’m totally exhausted by all this human interaction. I’d like nothing more than to go home and have sex with myself, but I have no choice. The orgy starts. I’m sitting by myself on a couch reading a magazine. The next thing I know, I’m body surfing over two sets of chubby twins. I must admit, I’m enjoying it, but after coming up for air the third time I’m ready to go home. I pretend to pull a hamstring while servicing the hostess on a chandelier, then slip out the back door and drive back to my apartment.
11:37 A.M. – Back home at last! I close the front door, fall into my large, comfortable reading chair and decompress. Nicole, my cat strolls across the room without showing the slightest inclination she wants to be stroked. She really gets me.
Introvert Hall of Fame executive director, Regina Reclusaconti announced this year’s inductees. Some notable honorees include:
At the honorees request, the formal induction will be conducted by registered mail.
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Google the word “introvert” and you’ll find countless websites waxing poetic about these moody wonders. Are they quiet spiritual souls or personality-deficient party poopers? The truth lies somewhere in between. The following clarifies a few introvert myths.
Myth | Reality |
Introverts are quiet because they always think about deep and spiritual things. | Some introverts need a lot of time thinking about whether to have pepperoni or sausage pizza. |
Introverts hate small talk because it bores them. | Some introverts love discussing how much the hosts paid for their house. |
Introverts are great writers. | Some introverts are great at writing home for money. |
Introverts hate being in crowds. | Some introverts like to rub gently against passengers on crowded subways. |
Human interaction exhausts introverts. | Some introverts don’t want you to know they love watching TV for hours while eating junk food. |
Introverts are good at seeing the big picture. | Some introverts think the big picture involves government control of our tooth paste reserves. |
Introverts have a constant, rich and fascinating inner monologue. | Some introverts can bore even themselves. |
Introverts are very sensitive people. | Some introverts will ask you to pass the ketchup while you’re telling them your dog passed away. |
Introverts intrigue people. | Some introverts scare people. |
Introverts have the most interesting friends. | Some introverts can’t distinguish between fascinating and certifiably insane. |
Cecile Sowhat
Being introverted used to bother me. As the years pass, however, I’ve grown more comfortable in my reclusive skin – even when my eczema flares up.
I used to think, “What’s wrong with me? Why am I so averse to social interaction?” Then I realized the one person who can make me happy has been in my head all the time. I may seem like a quiet soul, but put me in a room with my own thoughts and you can’t shut us up.
I love sitting all day in a chair while contemplating back support and Barcaloungers. The fire department occasionally breaks down my door to see if I’m alive. That’s enough social stimulation for me.
There was a time I tried to fit in with the rest of the world. I even belonged to a sorority in college. My sisters meant well, but there’s a name for that kind of non-stop friendliness, affection and emotional support: hazing.
Relationships have always been challenging. I dated one woman for three years. We were inseparable until she returned from her job overseas. She was a great gal but I felt lost without our long periods of separation, plus I missed the mind-blowing long-distance sexting.
My parents are extroverts and have never understood me. How else can you explain them fixing me up with Frank Sinatra Jr.? (Nice guy, though. When it became obvious we weren’t hitting it off, he sent me Nancy’s phone number.) It’s only been recently I’ve been able to look at them indirectly in the eye and say, “Mom, Dad, I love you.”
A wise man – okay, a pretty bright lyricist – once said, “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.” For some people maybe, but not if you don’t mind a fireman’s ax crashing through your door now and then.
Cecile Singular wrote the best-selling book, Become a Millionaire without Leaving Your Closet.
For many introverts, home is where the heart is sitting behind the other hearts.
When introverts enter a classroom – or any room – many look for that one special seat in the back. It beckons: “Come, sit, relax, away from the maddening class.”
Contrary to popular opinion, observing the world from the rearmost view isn’t so bad. Are you really concerned that your dying words will be, “Why wasn’t I friendlier with that girl in sophomore geometry class who always sat in the front row and did her homework on time?”
If you choose to be a back sitter, here are some tips to make your stay more enjoyable.