Please Refrain From Boasting About Previously Earned Pizza Nights
On making friends in your 30s.
Have you familiarized yourself with the Epistles of the Fast Food Prophet?
Kristinehamn Brain Frog
Taco Bell Jesus Volume 1 Reissue
Who Am I? A Blasphemer's Journey
Boners, Blasphemies, and Blunts
Low Panic
Two Poems
Walkeriguess Sounds Off on Sounding Off
Average Read Time: 7 minutes
Question: If you sing karaoke to an audience of none, did you even sing at all? I just finished singing the entirety of The New Abnormal by The Strokes on my Singing Machine in my living room…by myself. It started with me picking an album to write to, and quickly escalated from he can write, he can write! To I can sing!
I initially did it as a warmup or fun activity to get loose before writing. When I got to the chorus of the third track, Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus, I thought, how apropos. And then I thought, “apropos? Shut up, nerd.” The lyrics were apropos—I’m sorry, I don’t usually talk like this, I swear! (a lot)—because they were in line with what I was going to write about—friends!
No, not those friends, but…I’m a Ross! Who are you? Take the Buzzfeed quiz: Which "Friends" Character Are You? And let me know! My guess is you’re a Joey. How you doin’?
Quick Singing Machine Anecdote:
On rare occasions, I’m just the right amount of depressed (the right amount is seven) that I’ll treat myself to some retail therapy. Rare, because, I hate shopping.
One day, I went to Costco so I could wait in line for gas, because capitalism is king. The plan was to award my brave feat of waiting in line for gas with a large cheese pizza. Because depression.
Then I thought, “might be nice to go in and just have a look around,” and I did! As I stumbled through Costco in a depressed haze looking for a purchase that might make me feel whole, I saw it—The Singing Machine. I called my wife for permission to purchase—we’re a team!—and made, perhaps the best purchase of my life.
Now, where were we? …right! Apropos…dammit. The chorus from Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus:
I want new friends, but they don’t want me,
They’re making plans while I watch TV
Thought it was you, but maybe it’s me
I want new friends, but they don’t want me
The first two lines of that chorus are so good and appropriate for the world we live in, they singed the arm hair of my feelings.
One, for a long time, I loved TV, and I still do, but I also think…I hate TV? How many times have I defaulted to television binging when I could’ve done any number of productive things that wouldn’t rot my brain? But no…there was value in watching The Good Place for the third time in six months.
Two, making new friends can be hard because a lot of people already have their established friend groups and don’t feel the need for more (and lots of other reasons). More friends? Who has the time? That’s how life feels sometimes and it’s fair for people to feel that way. However, I’m really good at shooting three pointers and I feel like if more people knew that, then I’d have a lot more friends (I don’t always shoot this well, but when I do, I post it on Substack). I guess this essay will be the test! Here’s my shot chart from last Friday, 2/28/2025:
Are you impressed by my three-point shooting prowess? Do you think you could do better? I don’t think this friendship is going to work out.
When my wife, Maja (my-uh), and I were newly married, we made the move to Los Angeles. I knew a few people in the area but not many, and I suggested Maja hop on the dating app, Bumble. The app has a feature where you can make new friends called Bumble BFF. She made a handful of great friends on that app. Which, to me, is impressive, because I couldn’t have done it (not enough people know about my three-point shooting yet). Women are the more impressive sex.
One of the first people she met up with was a woman from Alaska, proving once and for all that Alaska does exist. They quickly bonded over hockey and leaving the cold for warmer weather (Maja is Swedish)—at least, that’s what I assumed they bonded over…you’d have to ask them to be sure.
After they’d met up a few times, they decided it was time for the men in their life to meet. We had dinner at their place and then we went to the Blue Room in Burbank for jazz (my favorite jazz is Utah Jazz #takenote), which was cut short because I had to go home and squeeze a kidney stone out of my ureter using the exact same method you would use to get the last of the toothpaste out.
Nowadays, the four of us have a group chat called “Four Friends.” We see movies, we have dinners, game nights, karaoke nights, and as of late, we’ve been having pizza nights. Alaska’s partner, just like mine, is from Europe, but he comes from Italy (no, his name isn’t Mario). The land of good food, gelato, and a third thing, presumably. Compared to Sweden: the land of the cold, dark, and trees.
Lucky for us, he has his own pizza oven and is trying to perfect his pizza, so we are his delightful pizza guinea pigs. He cooks the pizzas on our balcony. For now, it’s hard to say if it’s the balcony’s company, or ours, that he truly prefers, but we don’t mind as long as we get to keep stuffing our face-holes with delicious pizza. If you ask me, I’d say the pizza is already perfect, but he’s welcome to keep trying.
The last pizza night was on Sunday, February 16th. The first person to arrive was a 5th person, another one of Maja’s friends. 5th person and I made chit chat and when she asked what I had been up to, I told her about writing my novel and my new Substack. I told her I wrote personal essays and a comic strip called Taco Bell Jesus. I showed her the comic strip, as to not take up too much of her time. She laughed and said it had layers. Layers, people! Maja came home shortly after and I set up the karaoke machine while we waited for the pizza players, Alaska and Italy.
When the pizza players arrived, I offered up drinks to everyone. Alaska brought a tiny bottle of Skrewball Peanut Butter Whiskey (PBW)—my mother-in-law says it’s not whiskey, it’s a liqueur—but I told Alaska her hotel minibar bottle was no good here as I pulled out a jumbo jug of Skrewball that I bought on sale at Ralphs.
If you’ve been to our apartment, then I’ve probably offered you a shot of PBW. It’s my favorite shot of anything. It’s warm, cozy, and tastes like peanut butter syrup. Alaska, suggested Coke might go well with PBW. Italy was preparing pizzas for the oven, the girls were singing karaoke (probably Pink Pony Club or WAP) and I was preparing PBW & Cokes for Alaska, 5th person, and myself. The drink was a success! As strange as peanut butter coke sounds, it worked.
Italy cooked the pizzas one by one:
Classic Margherita
Mozzarella, sharp cheddar, onion, walnuts, spicy honey
Pesto, mozzarella, sun dried tomatoes, ricotta
Garlic sauce, sliced tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil
After a few slices of pizza, 5th person and I were ready for another PBW & Coke. I went to the kitchen, where Italy was preparing the next pizza. As I made the drinks I thought: “What a beautiful night. Friends, PBW & Cokes, karaoke, and some of the best pizza I’ve ever had. This would make a great personal essay.”
While lost in this thought, I realized I had poured half a glass of the PBW, and I’ll never forget it—the time I was appreciating the moment so much, I poured myself too much whiskey (it’s a liqueur). Luckily, Alaska’s drink hadn’t been prepared yet, so I was able, with her permission, to parse out some of the whiskey into her glass.
They’re coming over tonight (Sunday, 3/3/2025), for pizza and Severance…and maybe some booze too, lord knows I’ve got the jug.
For fans of The Strokes and karaoke, The New Abnormal tracks rated by their karaokeness on a scale of 1-5 microphones:
The Adults Are Talking: 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤
Selfless: 🎤 🎤 🎤
Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus: 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤
Bad Decisions: 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤
Eternal Summer: 🎤 🎤 🎤
At The Door: 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤
Why Are Sundays So Depressing: 🎤 🎤 🎤
Not The Same Anymore: 🎤 🎤
Ode To The Mets: 🎤 🎤 🎤 🎤
1. I dislike social media very much, and therefore, I almost exclusively refrain from engaging.
This post was too good to not.
2. 90% of the time, I am too cheap to feel happy about subscribing to things. As I read this today, I felt an affirmation of why reading Walker’s stuff is absolutely worth it. One of my favorite writers. Such great voice.