Yesterday, in the height of my finals delirium, I made this my computer desktop background:
Yes, that’s what happen if you google image search “Rashida Jones” take a screen shot, crop it, right click, and select “set background”.
I showed my roommate the picture and, being the wonderful guy he is, he goes, “I think you’ve got a shot.” I tell him no, and then alert him that she’s been dating Jon Favreau, Obama’s Speechwriter for years, so there’s no chance.
He asks who else she has dated, and Wikipedia (unfortuately) alerts us that the situation is even worse (for my chances) than either of us thought.
She started off with this guy:
But after 3.5 years, was apparently tired of dating a 125 lb superhero. Then she upgraded to this guy:
Mark Ronson proposed to her by way of a custom-made crossword puzzle, they were engaged, and then they broke it off a year later. Then, Rashida further upgraded (arguably peaked) with this guy:
Yeah. She dated Jim from the Office in fake life and real life. Unfortunately (for the potential offspring that could have been) Karen and Jim broke, as did Rashida and John. After John, she moved on to this guy:
That’s Jon Favreau. While he will go down as one of the most important pieces of the Obama 08 puzzle, this is still a downgrade from John Krasinski.
Last time I checked out Rashida Jones’ personal life, this was the end of the story.
When I went to her Wikipedia page last night, however, I noticed one more, NEW, line:
******She Is Currently Single******
As of 2:34am, everything changed. My reason for living has changed, my career aspirations have changed, and my decently-filled social calendar has suddenly emptied. All that matters right now is my mission to get CHOSE by the late Tupac’s fiancee’s sister. How will I do that, you ask?
Blacker, Poorer, Realer
Rashida has struck out four times with successful, financially-stable, White guys. I am the exact opposite. As a floundering, money-borrowing Black guy, I will give her the simple life that she’s finally been looking for. After growing up as Quincy Jones’ daughter, she just wants to find someone that’s simply a normal guy. With me, she knows there are no movie premiers, no post-Emmy parties, no White House dinners, and no VIP club access.
We’re going to be eating at Gigi’s Cafe a lot, watching YouTube videos, finding every happy hour special in NYC, and selling our belongings on Craigslist to pay rent. I know she wants that, and with me, she. gon’. get. it.
Rashida went to Harvard. Actually, Rashida balled out at Harvard. Because of this so-called educational acumen that she has, she’s looking for someone that’s her intellectual equal, if not smarter. Tobey eventually got his GED, Mark went to Vassar and then NYU, John went to Brown, and then Jon went (and was Valedictorian) at Sacred Heart. She’s obviously looking for an accomplished man in the world of academia.
Enter “The Big Guy”. Where am I writing this post? Columbia University. What am I doing here, oh nothing. Just getting a Master’s. I won’t bring up where I went to undergrad, because it’s not important for her to know I went to Dartmouth College. Basically, I’m going to give her my resume, put a paper bag on my head, and ask her to take me to Benihana’s. Can’t wait.
Really Rashida. Dating 2 dudes from outside of Boston, a loser from Cali and a schmuck from NYC by way of foggy Londontown?
You know it’s only a matter of time before she’s gets the ATL bug. I see Rashida settling down into a life of sweet-tea drinking and grits eating, instead of Red Sox games and hours of listening to Flogging Molly. But what do I know? I’m simply her dream man.
Basically, I think Rashida’s in love with me, we just haven’t met. When we actually meet, whenever that may be, it’s. gon’. be. trouble.
Trouble, that is, for every early-30s well-off White man all in the country.