Wait For It… a blog by Andy Ross

First Contact

Posted on July 29, 2011


Hey, you guys, if aliens land on Earth, can I call dibs on being their first contact? Sure, I bet scientists and politicians would scramble to be first in line, but I think I could do a better job, and I'll tell you why.

One, I wouldn't make it such a big deal. My guess is that aliens would be weirded out by a lot of pomp and circumstance. Instead of flags and fancy handshakes and junk, I'd be all like, "Hey, dudes, pop a squat on that ottoman. I'll go grab us some cold ones." And, I bet the aliens would be like, "Awesome, yeah. This guy's got a cool apartment. Look at that dope Pearl Jam poster."

Two, I wouldn't be all up their asses about advanced technology. You send a scientist in as first contact, and he'd be like, "Spaceship spaceship spaceship!" Yeah, I mean, we'd get to that stuff eventually, but you gotta ease into it. I'd be like, "So, what are you guys into? Music? Or just chilling out? Cool. Cool. So, like, does your spaceship run on crazy powerful crystals or something? Do you have any extra of those?"

And, then we’d get to live on a world where everything’s run on crystals and everybody has Segways and stuff. Y’know why? Because I wouldn’t be pushy about it.

Where are we at? Three?

Three, if shit goes down, I know how to handle myself. Like, say these alien dudes are interested in world domination and kidnapping folks for butt probing.

See, if the military were there, they be all like, "LAUNCH THE NUKES!" at even the first sign of lasers or anal probers. Whoa whoa whoa, there's no need for nukes. My buddy, Herc, tries this kinda shit all the time, so I have experience in these areas. (Totally true. Whenever Herc gets wasted, he always grabs dudes and tries sticking his finger up the backs of their shorts. He’s laughing when he does it, but I think there’s something else there, too.)

But, instead of needing the military, I could just be like, "I got this," and whip out some kung fu shit. Just go total Roadhouse on those aliens. I'd be like, "POW CHOP PA-POW, WHAMMO!" And, they be all, "Oww, oooh, ugh! My big, gray head!"

Ask Tommy. He's seen me do it to a guy once who was messing with a girl at the Quik Trip.

Then, when the aliens are sitting on the curb, rubbing their sore heads or whatever, I'd hand them a cold brew, and I'd be like, " Sorry I had to put you guys in your place. But, you get that you pulled a dick move, right? Are we cool?"

And, they’d be like, “Yeah. Sorry we tried to invade you guys. We learned our lesson.”

Part four... Uh, okay, so everything so far has assumed these aliens were the little gray dudes who may or may not be into planetary conquering and/or butt science. Instead, if these aliens are the sexy green lady kind of aliens, I also call dibs on first contact.

For that I’m gonna need some supplies---candles, chocolate-covered cherries, maybe some scented oils from Spencer’s Gifts. I’m kinda low on cash right now, so do you think the U.N. Nations would chip in to buy those things? They’re in charge of UFO landing stuff, right?

Can you do me a solid and call and ask them? I don’t really know anybody at the U.N. Nations, and I think it’d be weird if I just called them up asking for money for sex stuff. Anyway, let me know if you hear back from them.

I’m really excited about this first contact stuff. I think it’s gonna turn out really great.


Reasons I Might Hate You

Posted on July 8, 2011

If you are a stranger, and I have just handed you this business card, it means that I hate you. To understand the specifics of why someone you have never met before hates you, please refer to the list of reasons in small print on the back of this card. One or more may be circled.



- You have mentioned Harvard unprompted.

- I am tired, and you don't seem tired.

- You are a teenager.

- You are muscular.

- You have brought up your food allergy in a non-dining situation.

- You seem too "into" your “lover.”

- You have mentioned the Hamptons unsolicited.

- You have not given up your subway seat to a pregnant woman.

- You are a pregnant woman who seems insufficiently grateful that I gave up my subway seat for you.

- Your sunglasses cost more than a movie ticket.

- I don't like your voice.

- You are playing football with your shirt off. [See also: any other sport.]

- You have not said thank you to my holding the door open for you.

- You claim to not own a television.


- You are clearly coming from yoga at 3pm on a weekday.

- You are looking over my shoulder for someone more important.

- You have reclined your airplane seat the very first opportunity.

- You are wearing Tom's shoes, which I know shouldn't be a thing, but I kinda hate people who wear those. I know, I know---it shouldn't be a thing. But, they sell those shoes at Whole Foods, for Christ's sake. Also, the guy who started the company wears a summer scarf in an American Express commercial. Super gross.

- You have eaten the last appetizer off a tray right before I could.

- You are slowly repopulating your purse at the checkout counter.

- You have contradicted me during party conversation. [Subset: You have pointed out that I misquoted a New Yorker article at a party.]

- Your child has an old man's name. Or is named after an herb.

- Your blog got a book deal.

- All of the above.


My Etsy Site

Posted on July 6, 2011


Things I have for sale on my Etsy site:

- Knitted ukulele cozy

- Jewelry shaped like cupcakes

- Cupcakes shaped like jewelry

- Knitted cupcake cozy

- A computer keyboard made of recycled buttons and brooches

- Steampunk costumes for pet ferrets

- Handwritten list of bands you should check out

- Knitted bike seat cozy

- Felt bike seat cozy

- Trivets made from recycled past Etsy purchases

- Leggo iPad dock shaped like a squirrel wearing an ugly Cosby sweater

- Knitted skateboard cozy

- Messenger bags made out of old headphones

- A chair Mod Podged with magazine photos of Zoey Dechanel

- Knitted knitting needle cozy


To-Do List

Posted on June 17, 2011

My to-do list for today:

- Wake up. Rub eyes for three minutes.

- Sing first two lines of a song on repeat in the shower.

- Conditioner beard.

- Eat toast while staring at nothing in particular.

- Watch weather report. Zone out. Rewind DVR and re-watch weather report.

- Be mad at a yuppie woman on the train for no reason.

- Greet receptionist with a resigned sigh. Hear her sigh as I walk away.

- Eat grapes. Think about the children's science show from my youth, during which Slim Goodbody said the bronchioli in our lungs looked like tiny bunches of grapes.

- Begin blog post about grapes. Delete it.

- Ice tea break.

- Stare out window. See cute dog.

- Try to remember LinkedIn password. Fail. Make note to apologize to friend for taking so long accepting her LinkedIn request.

- Probably work a little.

- Receive huffy email about something stupid.

- Ice tea break.

- Read celebrity gossip about an actor I didn't realize was a Republican. Be weirded out.

- Worry in general about skin cancer.

- Tweet something semi-clever.

- Check to see if it’s been retweeted.

- Check to see if it’s been retweeted.

- Throw away grape stem.

- Check to see if it’s been retweeted.

- Remember my LinkedIn password but then realize I tried that one already.

- Oh yeah, work a little more.

- Get back on train.

- Make eye contact with woman who glares at me, assuming I was looking at her cleavage, even though I stopped looking at her cleavage like three minutes ago.

- Make dinner.

- Look at nothing particular on the Internet for four hours.

- Go to sleep.


Good Morning, Summer

Posted on May 31, 2011


Good morning, sunshine. Good morning, birds. Good morning, flowers and trees and puffy white clouds.

Good morning, heat. Good morning, garbage smells. Good morning, drip of sweat sliming its way down between my shoulder blades.

Good morning, crowded elevators and angry moms and old ladies too tired to hold in their farts.

Good morning, fashion assistants wearing sunglasses on the subway even through there’s no sunlight down here and you look like assholes squinting down at your asshole Blackberries.

Good morning, melted gum and dog feces. Good morning, babies with heat rash. Good morning, even more garbage smells.

Good morning, air conditioner exhausts and air conditioner drips and the ever-present grind of air conditioners. Good morning, air-conditioned luxury stores with your doors wide open, because fuck the world, right?

Good morning, Russian men in Speedos and Brazilian men in thongs. Good morning, exposed beer bellies of the world. Good morning, back hair.

Good morning, road construction. Good morning, jackhammers. Good morning, people talking about the Hamptons.

Good morning, bees. Good morning, ants. Good morning stink bugs and spiders and cockroaches and silverfish and those gross wispy centipedes that look like eyebrows.

Good morning, mosquitoes.

Good morning, pit stains. Good morning, weight we meant to lose. Good morning, hot pillows.

Good morning, children with ice cream all over your faces and hands and t-shirts and everything you touch. Good morning, general stickiness.

Good morning, eight-dollar iced lattes. Good morning, hot leather convertible seats. Good morning, lacrosse players in backwards visors and shower shoes.

Good morning, heat stroke. Good morning, dehydration. Good morning, brownouts and blackouts and thunderstorms and tornadoes.

But, finally, a big good morning to tan-lined cleavage and flippy sun dresses. Thank you for making everything else okay.


My Regrets

Posted on May 12, 2011

A brief list of things I will regret having said for the rest of my life. (Provided without context.)

- Sure, this hide-a-bed will fit through the upstairs door.

- Right back at’cha.

- Well, if I have to choose a celebrity, I guess Kristen Bell.

- Sure, that can be my nickname.

- Cilantro.

- That’s okay, I’ll take the next train.

- Excuse me, I gotta make a tinkle.

- Double tequila.

- Whoa, who died and made you so frowny?

- Bye bye.

- Rental insurance? Maybe next time.

- Love you … Love ya ... buddy.

- I can hold it in.

- Let’s watch Cradle Will Rock.

- Learning German will probably be more useful.

- You’re Asian?

- Awww, she looks like a baby Buddy Hackett.

- Yupperdoodles!


Wedding Gift Ideas

Posted on April 28, 2011


In honor of the royal wedding, I've decided to list off my favorite wedding gifts to give/receive.

Because, let’s face it, wedding registries are weird and transactional. That’s why you’re allowed up to a year from the day of the wedding to think of something awesome. At that point, of course, you can give up trying and just buy the one pickle fork and one corn-on-the-cob holder left on the registry.

But, that all changes right here and right now, goddamnit! Because, you’ve got me on your side. And, besides being the World’s Greatest Wedding Dancer, I’m also in the top ten wedding gifters. Fine, top twenty.

My favorite wedding gifts are:

An ice cream maker, which provides a helpful scapegoat to explain the post-wedding weight gain.

A large silver salad bowl. Have you ever eaten two pints of homemade ice cream out of a silver bowl? It makes you feel powerful.

Monogramed Slap Chop. Obviously.

An ornate picture frame to make any picture look beautiful, even the one of that doggy-looking flower girl. Jesus Christ, I hope she grows into those ears.

Some bullshit shaped like a heart. Honestly, this can be whatever.

A croquet set, unless the bride and groom are the kind of jerks who don’t like croquet, which are the worst kind of jerks.

A pet parrot! It’s the gift that keeps on giving. Responsibility. For eighty years.

Silver candlesticks. They’re not just for murder. You can use them to hold candles as well.

A KitchenAid mixer says to the couple, "Here's hoping that one day you'll have a kitchen big enough to store all this useless shit.”

A crystal vase. With proper pronunciation, please. We’re not animals.

A marble cheese tray. I take cheese far too seriously to serve it on some granite bullshit. Or wood, ugh.

Rosewood salad tongs. Salad-based gifts are like the life preserver you throw the couple during their post-wedding ice cream and cheese binges.

Ziplock baggies. C’mon, admit it---pretty useful.

Superglue. To repair that glass the groom accidentally stepped on at the end of the ceremony. I hope he wasn’t too embarrassed.

A gift certificate to a crib store. Thanks, Mom, we get it. WE GET IT ALREADY!

Matching aprons. Adorable! No wait, too adorable. Gross. Nevermind.

Something the groom might like. I'm just kidding.


Probably Not Danny Aiello

Posted on January 11, 2011


Five reasons why this guy in front of me at the grocery store probably isn't actor Danny Aiello:

1) I don't think Danny Aiello would be at a grocery store in Sioux City, Iowa.

2) Even if he was in Iowa and in the grocery store, I don't think he'd be buying generic Cheerios. He can probably afford real Cheerios.

3) This guy is wearing hoop earrings. Danny Aiello probably wears one earring, yes. But, if he does, it's most likely a diamond stud. That's just a guess, but he seems like the kind of older guy who wears a diamond stud. [Quick aside: Isn't it crazy when you see an interview with Harrison Ford, and he has a diamond stud earring? It's crazy, right? I mean, that guy is Hans Solo. An earring on him seems so out of place and mid-life crisis-y. Maybe it's just me, but it always catches me off guard.]

4) This person sounds nothing like Danny Aiello. The timbre of his voice is much higher, and there isn't any New York accent. Also, I think I heard an "okey dokey," which I firmly believe Danny Aiello would never say.

5) It's a woman. She just turned, and I could finally make out that it's a woman. Boy, that is very unfortunate--both for her and, I guess, for Danny Aiello--that I would make that mistake. Wow, I would never have guessed that that was a woman. Yikes. I wonder if people have mistaken her for Danny Aiello before. I wouldn't be surprised.


Blue Plaid Shirts

Posted on November 26, 2010


Oops, I think I got caught up in the spastic rush of Black Friday shopping today. I worry I may have bought a blue, plaid shirt that I already own. So, I decided to keep this handy list on my phone of all the blue, plaid shirts in my possession. Just so that I don't make the same mistake again.

- Blue. Plaid. Bits of brown. Short sleeves. The Gap.

- Blue. Plaid. Accents of red and light blue. Long sleeves. Banana Republic Outlet.

- Blue. Plaid. Alternating light blue and white. Long sleeves. Chili stain on right chest pocket. H&M.

- Blue. Plaid. Green lines. Cowboy cut. Collar sits a little high. Accents my man boobs and love handles. Rides up in the back. (Remember to donate this one to Goodwill.) The Gap.

- Blue. Plaid. Mother of pearl buttons. Witnessed a murder while wearing this shirt. Dry clean only. The Gap.

- Blue. Plaid. Flannel. Bits of green and yellow. Actually a plaid picnic blanket that I wrap around my torso and tuck into my pants on laundry day. Land's End.

- Blue. Plaid. Linen. Accents of dark blue. Lent to girl I had a crush on in high school. Never washed since. Still smells slightly of her, though mostly masked by mildew at this point. Unknown store.

- Blue. Plaid. Oversized from when I weighed 300 lbs. Shot that before-and-after weight loss commercial with it. Got paid in weight loss supplement that gave me arrhythmia. Sued. Won settlement of more weight loss supplement. Found out my class action lawyer was bribed by the defense. Chased him to Cancun after he fled the country. Wrote a mystery novel detailing it all. Still waiting on the galley copy. Land's End.

- Blue. Plaid. Breast pocket always seems to have a movie stub in it. Macy's.

- Blue. Plaid. Flecks of purple. Short sleeve. Has the words "R.I.P. Tupac" embroidered in script across the back.

- Blue. Plaid. Accents of red and light blue. Long sleeves. Banana Republic Outlet. (Now own two of these.)


Things I’m Thankful For

Posted on November 24, 2010

The following is a list of things I'm thankful for on this thanks-based holiday:

- My health, which is moderate to high moderate.

- My hammock. I would have listed this first, but I didn't want to jinx my health.

- My day job. Much better than my old day job of being unemployed and catching the second half of Miss Congeniality 2 on USA every couple of weeks.

- Mife, which is short for "my wife." (I'm also thankful for my amazing abbreviation skills. Myzingabbills, if you will.)

- New batteries for my beard trimmer. I now look up to 20% less werewolfy.

- The non-racist branch of my family.

- The five dollar bill I just found in this turkey costume I haven't worn since last year.

- The Internet and it's amazing spellcheck capabilities.

- All my expensive birthday gifts. The inexpensive, yet thoughtful gifts are okay, too, I guess.

- Dogs.

- My eyeballs. They needed reading glasses just in time to make me look even more pensively handsome.

- That part in Van Morrison's Sweet Thing where the violins go "doo do do do do doo dooo."

- My ability to laugh at myself. Or, more specifically, my ability to laugh at the thing I just wrote and then ask mife (my wife) if she's read it yet.

- Netflix Streaming's you-might-like suggestions. Quirky foreign sex comedies? Don't mind if I do!

- Jack Handey.

- My annual stop at Wendy's during my Thanksgiving road trip to Cleveland. Oh, number seven with frosty, absence has made my heart grow so fond.

- My blog readers. The both of you.

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