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Need a Quick Laugh? Here You Go. (Open Me, Jerk!)

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

Before I explain the origins of this remarkable photo, I'm pretty sure we should think up some awesome captions together.

I'll go first.

Anything but Donkey Kong!

Too many boobs!

Stop tickling me, Rudolph!

Father Time eats his first pot brownie.

Protesting razors since 1000 B.C.

Don't ask me why I have the need to torture us all with this kind of stuff. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the 5th grade, when Mr. Martin, the guidance counselor, used to show up in the classroom with a stuffed dolphin named Doo-so. That shit would scar anybody.

But seriously – what caption would YOU put? Leave it in the comments – this could be funny.

That said, you may or may not be wondering who that poor man in the photo is, and furthermore, why I've published such a random, unflattering collection of images of him.

If you've been following The Middle Finger Project for any length of time, you already know the answer to the latter: I published it for no other reason than it was funny as hell. As for the former, however, the man in that photo is Bruno, pronounced Bruuuuuuunoooooooo, and Bruno is from Italy.

Asti, Italy, to be specific, where they apparently make baller champagne.

And Bruuuunnnnooooooooo hangs out here in Costa Rica, day in and day out, sharing his stories of having spent a lifetime owning a small bookstore in his pueblo. We've talked much business–in broken Spanish, mind you.

He is leaving next week to go back to Italy.

I will miss him.

Which is precisely why I photo bombed him today without his consent–hence the arms flailing. I'd say you should have saw the look on his face when my Macbook fired off a bunch of snapshots of him when he just thought he was going to look at Google Earth, but you DID see the look on his face.

And that's basically the extent of that story – but how could I resist sharing that photo?


The Middle Finger Project. Not Your Grandmother's Blog.

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The year I tried to juggle 1,407 balls in the air and still be nice to strangers in the super market taught me an important lesson: Busy isn’t a synonym for happy. Full doesn’t mean fulfilled. And people are pushy assholes in line at the deli counter. All of us are busying ourselves to death—sometimes […]

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Growing up, my dad’s favorite line used to be, “Everything in moderation.” What a riot. One would assume that, after having those particular words-o-wisdom jack-hammered into my brain at least once per week, that I would have turned out, well, moderate. I’d think moderately, I’d travel moderately, I’d love moderately, and I’d live moderately. And […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired


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Change is fucking messy. You’re effectively molding yourself, and re-molding yourself, the way a sculptor would a piece of clay. And yet, nobody says to the sculptor: Shame on you, butter fingers, for not having it perfect the first spin. Rather, there’s an expectation of process. Of trial, of error, of slow transformation; of forming, […]

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A Sexy Story With a Lesson We sit in near silence, the only interruptions being an occasional mojito-induced outburst of nervous laughter, the sound of my silver chandelier earrings gently clinkering together, and the relentless tropical rains that steadily pelt the top of the canvas roof of the 4×4 automobile we are in. It’s shamelessly […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired


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If You Ain’t Feelin’ Your Work Anymore: HONEY, BURN THAT ISH DOWN.

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So, here’s an idea: making money is not courageous. Anybody can ring a bell for twenty years. “Look, ma—I’ve been standing over here ringing this bell for two entire decades—durh, durh, durh—and I finally got a sticker!” Making money is a relatively straightforward consequence of showing up to breathe in the right place. Cause and […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired, Feeling Disillusioned With Life, Hate Your Job?


May 10



May 10, 2018

You know those creeps who never drink any water and you’re all, “BUT YOUR CELLS! YOUR CELLS ARE SHRIVELING LIKE LITTLE CALIFORNIA RAISINS!”  (Unless this is the kind of thing that only goes through my brain, in which case, welcome to my inner landscape, ya’ll.) I feel the same way about time. There are so many people who aren’t drinking […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired, Feeling Disillusioned With Life


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To the Woman With the Fake Smile: Stop It, You Fucking Pigeon

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Can we all just stop, already? Stop apologizing. Stop saying sorry. Stop shrinking into some small little ball-less version of yourself—you know, so you don’t make all the other ball-less twats feel uncomfortable. Or risk offending somebody. Or do something controversial. Or doing all of that and then totally screwing it up and feeling stupid. […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired


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