It rained like hell the other day. As the sheets of rain toppled down onto the hot concrete streets, I was in my apartment, dry and watching the world get wet.

People ran through the rain, hoping they’d somehow avoid the droplets. The thick, dark clouds moved swiftly from several angels to fill the sky and bring dusk to a previously sunny afternoon. It made me feel very small.

Insignificant, if you will, but before you break out the violins, bourbon or noose, let me clarify something: Feeling small can be a good thing.

Living in New York City and being surrounded by powerful business people and artists of all sorts can skew a person’s ego. Sometimes it’s good to be reminded that the world doesn’t revolve around you and that you’re just a tiny piece in a much, much larger plan.

…However, sometimes that can be depressing as hell. That’s why I’ve decided to stand up, push my shoulders back, and interview the shit out of myself.

Since no one has been daring enough to ask me questions, I went to the internet and grabbed questions that had been asked to other people. If them, why not me?

Who can be with you during labor and birth?

Miracle of life, my ass. Birth is the most dramatic, upsetting, placenta-y event imaginable. Who is there who doesn’t HAVE to be there? Doctors don’t even want to be there. That’s why they get paid so much because even if they are a foot doctor they know they can’t hide in the bathroom when someone goes into labor on a plane.

The husband has an obligation (they’re the one who didn’t pull out in time), but no one else HAS to be in the room. Why would you make them?

Other than hindsight, how does someone know when it’s time to quit?

When I was 11 years old my dad bought me a cup. Not a drinking cup, but a “protect your balls from getting hit while playing sports” cup. My brother thought this was hilarious and tried to mercifully punch me in the nuts whenever I had it on. This went on for a good two years, each time getting less and less funny. I kept telling him to give it up, but he refused. Then one day, after I had taken out the cup and was walking to the car, Jake pummeled me in the crotch. I collapsed, lost all chances of having children and cried out in pain.

The meaning of this story is that the goal in life is to understand the potential payoff and to never stray from it if it’s great enough.

Who does the best Al Pacino impression?

A Boston Terrier after it’s eaten a bag of pepper.

I refuse to learn Spanish. Should I immigrate to Canada, Australia or New Zealand?

Canada has been the easiest punching bag in the past twenty years because a) their residents are white (means we’re not racist), b) there really aren’t any tourist destinations (yeah, I hear Toronto’s getting AWESOME too) and c) it is a mixture between a western European country and an eastern European county (which, when you think about it, is actually awesome).

On the other hand, no one has made fun of Australia. Sure, it’s got nice weather, interesting vegetation/species and people who speak English in an accent, but who says those things are necessarily good?

I hear northern Florida has nice weather. Doesn’t mean you could pay me to live there. Also, there’s cactus and armadillos in western Texas, but I’m not settling there either. As for the accent, it is neck and neck with the Boston accent as the “least likely to make you sound smart” accent in the world. I’ll pass on Australia and New Zealand is full of people who want to see hobbits.

How are your job interview skills?

If things aren’t going well I tip the desk over and steal their shoes. I’d say they’re average.

Where is the safest place to sit on an airplane?

Questions like this remind me that my life has been taken over by the TV show Lost. Having watched the crash scene roughly 3,000 times, I’ve surmised that the safest place to sit is…anywhere. People from the tail section survived. People from the middle section (fusel lodge) survived. Even the pilot survived until he was eaten by something. Everywhere is safe.

On a side note – is it possible that the end of Lost is going to reveal that everything that’s happened has just been part of Jack being on a total bender? His dad was a drunk, he’s drinking on the plane and when they “get off” the island he keeps himself completely blasted. Isn’t it possible that the show is going to end with him sobering up on the flight from Australia, rubbing his crotch through his pants going “I am your leader. I am your leader”??

Are graphing calculators a worthwhile investment?

No. They are officially the biggest joke in the teachers lounge.

“I’m going to tell my kids they need to get a Ti-95 at the beginning of this year”

“Why?”

“Cause I get a free one if four kids buy them!”

I knew I didn’t need one for my Pre-Calculus class when I saw my teacher drive into school with a “Too Frunk to Duck” bumper sticker on her car.

When was the last time you wrote a song? What can you tell us about it?

The TV show The Office has been a huge success in England and America. People like laughing at the ridiculousness of the everyday workplace. That’s why I invented a rap persona called 401(k). I was going to basically rap about office stuff and how hard it is for a playah to get dental.

A sample verse:

The copier is broke and my printer’s offline.

Want to jack her cubicle, it’s bigger than mine.

Co-pay, deductible, revenue, sales quota

Should work late, fuck that, I’m not gonna.

Macedonia ‘s Level of Corruption is…

Officially the last thing I care about.

Should I talk to the massage therapist during the massage?

Acceptable:

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Did you have to go to school?”

“Have you given a massage to anyone famous?”

Not acceptable:

“Let me know when I should flip over. I’m ready now.”

“I’m so tense. Those kids keep screaming in my basement to let them out. I’m worried someone might hear them”

“I’m not tipping you if I end happily on my own”

How do volcanoes affect people?

Hot water burn baby. Hot lava melt everything.