I don’t normally find writing about myself to be that interesting- my autobiography would include an inordinate amount of critiques of the various flavors of Cheez-Its. But I have noticed a recent trend that I need to point out. There seems to be a multitude of D-class celebrities who, particularly in the eyes of the drunk, bear a noticeable resemblance to me.
Now you may be thinking I’m about to launch into the typical humblebrag diatribe we’ve all heard before… “I am so tired of people saying I look just like a cross between George Clooney and the sexier depictions of Jesus.” (Neither are listed below.) I’m not. Everyone likes to have a doppelganger and I’m no exception, and generally I find these comparisons amusing. However the following aspects of these four particular individuals are interesting:
All four of them, when their name is searched under Google, have an autocomplete that ends with “hair.”
Three of them are known for being kinda douchey.
Two of them are not even real people.
Only one wears glasses.
Also, before we get into the list I just want to reemphasize that these comparisons usually come from drunk people. Beer goggles have a weird effect on those who view me through them.
Without further adieu, here is the list of celebrities I have been told I look like, ranked in order of their hairdos:
4. “DUDE, I just gotta ask. Are you that kid from that site? The glasses kid from Funny College, I think it’s called.”
One day while I was waiting for the commuter rail to take me home, I decided post up in a restaurant near my office and grab a sandwich. The Celtics were slated to play in one hour, and as I took a seat at the bar I noticed a heavyset dude in a Paul Pierce jersey next to me who looked like he had been pre-gaming the previous eight.
While I was enjoying my chicken pesto sub I couldn’t shake the feeling that Fat Pierce was staring at me. And sure enough, each time I turned my head in his direction he would zoom his attention from my face right back down to his 16 oz. Bud Light bottle (the green one, of course).
He wanted to ask me something and was gathering the courage to do so. I knew that whatever it was would immediately make me regret my decision to not simply wait for the train in North Station.
“Dude, I just gotta ask,” he said as he turned his stool to face me. “Are you that kid from that site?”
His girlfriend, who had been hidden on the other side of his portly stomach, poked her head out from behind his stature. Now I would have to awkwardly disappoint two of them when I told them I was not whoever “that kid from that site” was.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure who you’re talking about,” I responded.
“The glasses kid from Funny College, I think it’s called,” his voice raised hopefully as he finished the sentence, as if I would now remember that I was, in fact, the glasses kid from Funny College.
“College Humor! His name’s Amir,” shouted the girlfriend.
“Oh no, I’m not,” I admitted, feeling guilty that they could not tell their buddies as they stumbled into the Garden that they met the famous Amir Blumenfeld, founder of College Humor, sitting by himself in a restaurant on Canal St. “I’m sorry.”
“Dude, you look JUST LIKE him,” Fat Pierce said, shaking his head as he raised his Bud Light. “You gotta get that all time.”
I never got that once. “Yeah, occasionally.”
“Dude I was just about to take a picture of you and send it to all my buddies.”
He had a group of buddies that all would knew who Amir Blumenfeld was?
“I might do it anyway,” he chuckled and looked at his girlfriend to provide a support chuckle. She was too drunk to appreciate his subtle wit.
As we proceeded to fumble through awkward small talk I decided to multitask and pulled out my phone to find a pic of Amir…
I asked for the check and left with a new appreciation of how tough McLovin had it in Superbad.
Because I am McLovin.
3. “Yeah, whatever James Spader. But you’re not even James Spader. Just James Spader from Pretty In Pink. Yeah, that’s right. You’re him.”
Psh. I wish I had those immaculate flowing locks and the longest cigarette in the world.
This comparison surprised me for two reasons. First, I had never heard of Pretty In Pink. Apparently it was like the 80’s version of American Pie, with less references to masturbation. Second, I didn’t know James Spader existed prior to 2003 when he first appeared as Bill Shatner’s lawyer buddy. Overall, however, I wasn’t mad. James Spader’s a funny dude, and again- IMMACULATE hairdo.
Then I did some research. Spader’s character is named Steff, and like anyone named Steff, he’s a complete and utter dickhead. I mean, look at what these blogs had to say…
Unfiltered Lens: “Of course, we already hate Steff because he apparently has no redeeming qualities whatsoever.”
Culture Brats: “Steff was the jerk all other movie jerks could learn a lesson from.”
Jezebel: “Elitist, classist, doesn’t handle rejection well, treats his girlfriend Betty like “trash,” clearly hates himself, as pointed out by Blaine, says things like, “I wouldn’t be too jazzed if I were you.”
The Crap Spot: “I decided to analyze Steff beginning with his Miami Vice apparel. It takes a real man to wear crap, and crap is all that Steff wears.”
Things I Want To Punch In Face: “Steff from Pretty in Pink”
It seems like the girl making the comparison to me may have been not complimenting me after all.
Speaking of fictional characters other people want to punch in the face…
2. “You watch Mad Men? You look just like Pete Campbell.”
“I’m sure you mean Don Draper.” YUK YUK YUK.
I would have taken Roger Sterling, Ken Cosgrove, Ted Chough, Ginsberg. Hell I would have even taken Bert Cooper. (OK maybe not Bert Cooper.) But this guy?
Pete Campbell is the epitome of sliminess on a show in which all the characters are slimy. He does all the bad things Don Draper does but doesn’t get away with it because people inherently wish physical harm upon him. He has been punched in the face infinitely more times than any other main character. He says things like this:
Pete Campbell: A man like you I’d follow into combat blindfolded, and I wouldn’t be the first. Am I right, buddy?
Don Draper: Let’s take it a little slower. I don’t want to wake up pregnant.
Don Draper: [Reading aloud from a piece of paper] “The man is shamed by being openly ridiculed and rejected; it requires an audience.”
Pete Campbell: What is that, fortune cookie?
Don Draper: It’s from that book you were all supposed to read.
Pete Campbell: Oh.
Beth: I knew you’d show.
Pete: Because I’m pathetic?
But DAMN. Those sideburns:
I need those sideburns.
1. “Yo SCOTT!”
Around the 34th time I was compared to Scott Disick by a random drunkard on the street, I began to notice a mathematical equation. The cleverness of Scott Disick comments can be aligned on a bell curve in direct correlation to the amount of alcohol the joker has consumed.
The graph can be charted somewhat like this:
1 drink in: “No offense, but you kind of look like Scott Disick. You know who that is, right? You’ve probably gotten that before.”
2 drinks in: “So I gotta ask- How’s Kourtney?”
3 drinks in: “Where’s your cane??”
4 drinks in: (As I was pulling out my debit card at a bar) “I thought you only carried hundreds. You look just like Scott Disick.”
This is when they start going downhill…
5 drinks in: “LORD DISICK’S IN THIS BITCH RIGHT NOW!!”
6 drinks in: “You’re dating the only hot one!”
7 drinks in: “Hey Scott why does Kanye hate you?”
8 drinks in: “Scott muthafuckin Disick! Not you, but you look just like him dude!”
9 drinks and above: “YO SCOOOOTTTTTTTTT”
There you have it folks. The four d-class celebrities I have been compared to recently. If you see a McLovin-looking dude who may have starred in an 80’s teen comedy or perhaps a modern reality tv show, please don’t punch him in the face. He just wants to be loved.