Has this ever happened to you? You’re out for a stroll with your hubby in Riverside Park, admiring the trees and grass, when suddenly he starts talking about how the trees remind him of this one time he was watching an avant-garde film by some Dutch man whose name you won’t even try to pronounce, where the trees began to laugh and cry all at once, and how that really told him a lot about his soul and how the confines of city life just aren’t for him?
And then, stuffing his hands in his pastel shorts, he starts to tell you about his favorite 17th century Dutch artist, but then he stops to think because there are just so many favorites it’s hard to pick one?
Or maybe, passing by a cheese shop, he just has to pop in and get a slab of his favorite type of Swiss cheese—which is Emmental, the only kind of Swiss he would ever consider eating due to its unique texture and mild, savory taste?
Or does he tote a copy of Infinite Jest to a cafe brunch, where there is no conceivable scenario in which he would get reading done?
Was his Alaska cruise okay, but not as good as his Joseph Conrad-esque sailing trip down the Congo, which inspired him to buy a second vacation home in Africa for when he gets tired of his Malibu beach house?
Does he tell you he’s having a tough time deciding which litigator he wants to help him with his DUI because the last one was all right, but the one who helped him with the bar brawl over a misquoting of Kant got him more in damages?
Does he “dabble” in painting and visit Cape Cod a few times a year to paint the sunset over the sand?
Have you ever seen him genuinely excited while watching a game of golf on TV?
When going a few blocks down the street, does he sometimes take a cab because the urban scent perturbs his sensitive nose?
If yes, then your significant other is probably a pretentious asshole.
In Other News
"After all, he was pretty sure that they have the exact same nutritional content as regular cucumbers. Probably right? Doesn't matter."
According to witnesses, the last words he uttered before chugging his sixth Bud Light and stumbling out the door were, “Imma bout to send it.”
"In the absence of any real personality, our midwestern students sometimes struggle to find their niche on campus, and must resort to misguidedly boasting about their native climate."
"All this time I was talking about rabbis, but he was thinking about priests?”
"I’ve always been torn between my love of Gertrude Stein and weirdly shaped plants. But now I don’t have to be.”
"There were at least 90 virgins in that room, so I do feel like I got some decent value.”
"I’ve never introduced myself without explicitly mentioning it: 'He/Him/His, Columbia College, Burbank, California.'"
"This way, students can rest assured that even if that misdiagnosed strep throat becomes fatal, their souls will be preserved in eternal light."
"You should see those emaciated Slavic studies fuckers on Floor Seven.”
"Because while ole Jeffy-Jeff did some pretty bad things, if we focus just on those we lose the big picture - a vibrant canvas which clearly shows that as a society, we can learn a great deal from this man."