The Top 5 Reasons I Wash My Hands After Going To The Bathroom

This is going to be a good one, kids!  First of all, I’d like to acknowledge that poop and pee are gross, and I’m not going to talk about them in this post other than when I just mentioned it just now.

Now that that’s over, it may seem as though I’ve gone off my rocker with this one.  And while you are absolutely right, it doesn’t detract from the fact that at the very least, I’m encouraging cleanliness.

So clean! NOT.

So clean! NOT.

And yes, I do wash my hands after the bathroom because it’s necessary and I don’t want my mother to think she raised a vagabond. But that’s not a fun reason. So these are the fun (real) reasons I do it.

5. It’s fun to test out the power of the dryers.

If you see a powerful dryer and you aren’t psyched to wash your hands, you suck at life and don’t have fun.  There is no greater joy than watching your skin spread apart and make fleshy mountains because the dryer air is coming out at such a rapid pace.  Don’t tell me you’ve never put your face under it. You have or you will. End of story.

4. Someone else is doing it. 

You cannot, I repeat, cannot be the person who walks out of the bathroom while someone else is washing their hands without washing yours. You may think you won’t ever see that person again, but low and behold, you’ll be making eye contact all the way down the elevator because he or she followed you out after your hasty, non-clean exit. And there will be judgment. So much judgment.

3.  It takes up more time.

Half the reason I go to the bathroom is to avoid doing work or being where I am supposed to be.  Waiting for a date? Bathroom break.  Bored at work? Bathroom break.  Awkward sex scene while watching a movie with my parents? ABSOLUTELY going to the bathroom.  Washing your hands adds a few more minutes on to that time frame where you can just escape the awk and enjoy the situation.

2.  To reaffirm my hatred for motion-sensored and push-button faucets.

Like, really, what the hell, world? You really think that humans over the age of five can’t be trusted to turn on and off a sink? Why are you deciding how much water I need?  My hands are dry and they lather soap rather aggressivley and I don’t think that your stupid push-button faucet allows enough moisture to really get all the suds off and complete the task. LET ME DO IT MYSELF.

1.  Because I’m scared if I don’t someone will ask to smell my hands after I leave and will know that I didn’t wash them and then I will be forever branded as a nomad or social pariah who doesn’t adhere to any sort of societal norm or personal hygienic regimen. 

This is a very real fear that eats away at me every day.  Whenever I think I can escape the bathroom without washing my hands I think of a scenario where someone immediately comes and smells my palms after leaving and I am found out for how disgusting and gross I am.  That fear outweighs the one of germs and other disgusting things that will happen to me when I didn’t wash them because I was just supposed to do so.

Why do YOU wash your hands after the bathroom?

Survival of the Fittest.. Or In My Case, Surviving.

They say no man is an island, but what if you were stranded on one?

I went camping this past summer for four days with one of my best friends.  It was my first time being out in the elements, so I didn’t really know what to expect when weather that wasn’t sunny and 72 degrees happened.

Needless to say, I was an emotional wreck and did not handle sleeping in a tent in the rain very well.

We’ve all played the “What Would You Take To A Deserted Island” game.  But after my experience with weather, tents, and bugs, I’ve decided there are more than a few essentials to surviving if I was ever to really be totally stranded.


so rude.


Here are the five things I would ABSOLUTELY bring on my island with me:

1.  A house

You best believe after sleeping in a tent for four days, I will do everything in my power to avoid being exposed.  I’m bringing a goddamn house to my island.  Four walls, a roof, and a bed with a real mattress will make my stay extra cushy.  It’s my island, and I’ll do what I want!

2.  A boyfriend

Either my real boyfriend, or if he won’t agree to it, Charlie Hunnam will do.  Because I need someone to hang out with me and also want to protect me from all the wild animals that will be roaming the lands.  Plus, he won’t ever have an excuse to flake on plans, cause I’ll be the only one he can spend time with (MUAHAHAHAHA).  Just kidding, really, misery just loves company, and two people on an island is better than me alone with my thoughts… that would be scary.

3.  Wine and snacks.

Becuase… nourishment.

4.  Electricity

What is the point of having a house without electricity to power it up?  I’m talking total comfort here.  I want lights, television, and running water.  I’ll bring Thomas Edison back from the dead if I have to, as long as I can see where I’m going when the sun goes down.

5.  Mary Poppins’ Tote Bag

If you were asking yourself after items #1-4 how I was planning on getting all these things to my island, this is the answer.  Shit get’s real small up in Mary P’s bag, and I am going to need to borrow/steal/keep it forever in order to caravan an entire home, a full-grown man, an electricity system, and a lifetime supply of wine onto my desolate vacation.

Honorable Mention: Wilson from Castaway

Just seems like an all around great dude.  And when I’m inevitably fighting with my boyfriend for paying more attention to the wild animals than me, I’ll need someone who won’t sass me back to converse with in confidence.

What would you take with you on a deserted island?

The Unwritten Rules Of Being In A Relationship

The conditions under which my boyfriend and I moved in together were simple.  Cheaper rent, reduced travel, and ultimately, he would be the human barrier that would save me if anything remotely dangerous happened in the dead of the night.

Around 3:30 am last night, a fire drill went off in the midst of my deepest slumbers.  Unbeknownst to me, the jackasses who live on the floor above us engaged in a little snow storm marijuana toking session, and basically masked the entire top floor with a cloud of smoke.

The roommate looks at me after hearing how obnoxiously loud the fire alarm is and says, “Close the bedroom door.”

To which I replied, “Uhh, no, I think we need to evacuate.”

After frantically throwing on as many blizzard fighting layers of clothing and waiting outside for around twenty minutes, we were allowed back in the building.  But only now have I realized that my roommate was not delivering on one of the main promises made when we decided to cohabitate.  Something remotely dangerous happened in the middle of the night, and he was not being a good human barrier.

(I realize this is all based upon waking up mid-slumber, and under different circumstances, he probably would have had a clearer head.)

Which brings me to my next point.  Along with safety and security, there are certain unwritten rules that boyfriends have to follow.

All gender roles, feminism, sexism, and all that other politically correct mumbo jumbo aside, of course. I see you, strong, independent women who don’t need no man to feel worthy. #Respect

Here are the unwritten rules you need to follow in order to be a successful boyfriend/good human:

Hold my things: When you decide you are going to date a girl, you unofficially sign up to hold all her belongings when she doesn’t want to carry a purse.  Credit card, money, and ID will now go in your wallet and her keys in your pockets, because her outfit is way more important without a bulky bag, and you have like forty-six places to hold things anyways.

Let me wear your stuff: Clothes are always more comfortable when they’re not yours.  Sweatshirts that are four sizes too big definitely seem to fit better, and men’s sweatpants are what dreams are made of.  And hats.  Always hats.

Don’t get mad when I eat your food: I know this is like, totally, illegal in like fifteen countries, and frowned upon everywhere else, but if I want a bite of your food, you need to give it to me.  I know I ordered what I wanted, and you ordered what you wanted, but that’s why we didn’t order the same thing and I’d rather not have FOMO.

Listen to my stories: Everyone in the history of earth knows that women are horrendous story tellers.  But you’re going to have to listen to every single one of them.  The office drama, that kid on the subway, the one about how long the line was at Forever 21 on New Year’s Eve. They’re going to suck, they’re not going to be funny, and they probably won’t make sense.  And I’m sorry I’m not sorry for that.

Give me directions: I think I speak solely for myself with this one, but I’m going to generalize to everyone anyways.  You need to be prepared to tell me where I’m going and give me proper notice of when I’m supposed to turn left, right, etc.  Google maps can steer me wrong, you can’t.

Make good choices under pressure: Like, you know, if there’s a fire drill in the middle of the night.  You should tell me to get my shit together and haul ass down the stairs instead of just ignoring it and trying to fall back asleep.  It’s these life or death situations that make or break a relationship. Mostly because if we burned alive no one would be in the relationship anymore, because we’d both be dead.

Crack my back: What’s the point of having someone double your weight that can lift you up, crack your back, and realign your spine with one strong, upward grab? That’s not a trick question. There’s actually no other point than to have them lift you up, crack your back, and realign your spine with one, strong upward grab.

What are some unwritten rules you can think of?

SkyMall Filed For Bankruptcy And I Have Nothing To Live For Anymore

That was not hyperbole. SkyMall is donezo, which means I may as well renounce my citizenship and become a castaway living off the land and having a volleyball as a best friend.

But, that’s also how I pretty much live my life right now, so I need to up my ante on the dramatic life exits.

Maybe I’ll start a cult or join a Peruvian scooter gang. I just need something to fill the void that’s in the back seat pocket on the plane of life.

A lot of people, myself included, are absolutely devastated about the news of SkyMall closing its mile-high doors.

I like to think of myself as less of a dweller on bad times and more of a solver of problems.  (Please don’t ask anyone close to me if this is true, I’m sure they’ll tell you endless stories about me crying on the bathroom floor when I couldn’t find my hidden stash of oreos at 3am.)  But, in my honest, inflated opinion of myself, I think that I really do my best to solve issues at hand rather than complain about what went wrong.

Which is why I’m going to try and save SkyMall from bankruptcy. If you don’t know why I’m so dead set on saving the mall up high from an eternal grave, please read this, this, and this.

I’m basically their unofficial-spokesperson/stalker/avid seeker of their attention via the twittersphere.  It’s a title that I take extremely seriously, but very lightly, because I do not want to get arrested.



Here are my ideas for how to save SkyMall:

Bake Sale: There has never been anything in the history of the earth that a bake sale couldn’t solve.  School fundraiser? Bake Sale. Diabetes? Bake sale. World Peace? Bake sale.  There’s nothing better to get unsuspecting humans into paying for overpriced baked treats than to slap on a big “HELP ME, I’M POOR” sign in front of your logo.  Cookies win wars. It’s science.

Car Wash: Bonus points for hot women in bikinis. At least they always look like they’re profitable in the movies.  In my experience, it was always the one attractive girl out on the street flagging people down while all the rest of us mediocre-looking wet dogs slaved away in nurse scrubs and fishing boots in the name of charity.  It really sucks not being a Victoria’s Secret model.

Ebooks: Everyone else is doing it.  Why not just digitize your pages and have SkyMall available for tablets all over the world? Seems silly, but I’m also a super genius with a slightly above average IQ that’s not really a genius at all and am probably just stating the obvious answer they already thought of but were too poor to execute.  Sorry for my insensitivity, SkyMall.

Peaceful, Yet Extremely Disruptive Protests: Nothing gets the people up in arms like a good old fashioned disruptive protest. Chain yourself to a barrel, block a highway, ruin the morning commute; do anything, but also do it in the name of SkyMall and everything will be covered in the news, forcing people to care about your cause and contribute their hard earned, taxed dollars that they can’t make because they can’t even arrive to work on time.

Replace Current Airplane Seat Back Pockets With Issues of Unsolvable Crossword Puzzles About Current Events: With only -275% of the population able to complete this exercise, people will be begging for SkyMall to be put back onto planes across the world because frankly, I’d rather stare at a life sized Big Foot I can’t afford than a problem I can’t solve (see above statement where I talk about being a problem solver).

Stockpile/Hoard All Current/Previous Issues: Hold on to them for, like, one hundred years then start bringing them to Antiques Roadshow to appraise and sell them off.  This has a 40% chance of being an effective strategy that can pretty much reinvigorate the industry’s need for an in-flight magazine.  Just a thought. Take it or leave it.

There you have it. If you take all of these seriously and throw them out the window at the same time, it just might be dumb enough to work.  Let’s pool together our resources, crack open infinity bottles of wine and save SkyMall so we can be legends in the skies and get a cement statue for sale for the low price of $4,000. Which is totally acceptable, because we’re all flawless mother truckers.

And all was right in the world.


How would YOU save SkyMall?

I’m Using My Skills As An Amatuer Mind Reader To Tell You What Joe Biden Was Thinking During The State of the Union Address Last Night

Remember when you went to the auditorium during elementary school to watch the school band showcase assembly that showed how good a job they did learning how to play Hot Crossed Buns?

But you really didn’t pay attention because you couldn’t take your eyes off that one kid in the back row who clearly didn’t know how to read music and just wanted to play the trumpet to annoy his mother every night?

That’s exactly how I felt about watching Joe Biden during the State of the Union Address.

One word: Electric. 

Like, whether or not Obama has made mistakes during his two terms in office is unclear on my end. But there is one thing that is for sure, it is a win for everyone who doesn’t care or knows nothing about politics for Barry Ohhhh to have Joey Bides as his right hand man, because his facial expressions are so on point, he could lead a group of mimes into heaven.

Does that make sense? Can mimes take a joke? No? Let’s go with it anyways, it’s not like they can voice their opinion. #SeeWhatIDidThere

While some people may be skilled in the art of lip reading, I’m skilled in the art of pretending I can read minds. And that’s exactly what I did with Joe Biden while I wasn’t paying attention to anything the president was saying about the state of our unions or whatever it is he was talking about.

Here’s what Joe Biden was probably thinking about instead of the well-being of our country:


“I hope no one asks me to answer any questions.”

 “Does this face make me look like I have an underbite?”


“Crap. My shoes are too tight.”

“No one will see me texting ‘C U L8R BAE’ if I keep my phone under this table. Wait… Did someone just see me?”


 “Yeah, I told him to say that.”

“Oh, you heard that fart?”


“I hope there’s mac and cheese for dinner.”

“I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedeeleedee…”anigif_original-grid-image-5900-1391003689-9

“Wait, are we not voting at this thing? I should put away my ballot.”

“Not a good time to take out my VP brochure. Noted.”

“Oh shit, should I be taking notes?”

“Clipboards make me look important.”

BIDEN_STANDS_BOEHNER_SITS“Good job, good effort. Good job, good effort.”

“I’m going to stand up so he knows that I was listening the whole time. But, I wasn’t.”


What did you think of the State of the Union address?  Did you watch? How ridiculous is Joe Biden?

Things You Say To Your Significant Other That Make You Realize You’re Way Too Comfortable


I think the best part about dating someone is the moment you realize you’re totally comfortable in front of them.

Or when your only job on your day off is to make a pizza before he comes home from a long day at work, but you burn it within minutes of him walking through the door because you’re trying to defend yourself from an online bullying episode, but it’s okay because he loves you, yet is still really mad at you, and will huff and puff his way over to CVS to buy a new one to make himself.

Seriously, don’t underestimate the importance of a pizza after a long day of work, especially for the male species.  Cheese, sauce, bread, and the occasional topping is a diabolical combination that can pretty much cure anything from a bad day at work to civil unrest.

Anyways, the point of this is, you reach a time in your relationship where you become really comfortable with the other person; like, really, really, comfortable. This is so good. But this is also where the lines between appropriate and completely outrageous when taken out of context are also very, very blurry.

I have realized that I am  now in that very blurry, shadowy, gray area in my relationship where I don’t know if I should be concerned about the nature of my conversations, or if I just embrace it and fully accept that I’m so weird and another person has chosen to keep me around regardless.

I have also realized that I’m not that weird, because some of my friends have also confirmed that they’re too comfortable in their relationships, which is evident because of some of the things that they’ve revealed to me, in confidence, that they say within the privacy of their own homes.

But privacy is stupid and completely overrated; plus, it’s 2015 and everyone knows everyone’s business, so I’m going to post them on the internet.

Here are some things you might say that make you realize you’re way too comfortable with your significant other. If it sounds normal, it’s probably not.

“We can’t do that tonight, I have plans with my other girlfriend.”

(Note: If he really does have another girlfriend, you should probably be concerned he’s so open about it.)


“Can I pluck that hair? Please.”

“Your mustache is coming in nicely.”

“Why is your face like that?”

“That shirt makes you look like you work at a barber shop. Can you cut my hair?”

“My favorite time to hang out with you is in the morning when you’re asleep and don’t speak.”

“It’s funny to see how your boobs handle gravity.”

“Do you own anything other than a red bathrobe?”

“You look like a waitress from Outback.”


“When was the last time you shaved?”

“Are you wearing your fat pants?”

“Okay, I’m going to fart in the closet.”

“I can grow more facial hair than you.”

“What inspired you to buy that shirt?”

“Your boobs are uneven.”

“You have beefy arms.”

“Why are your pants up so high?”

“Did you poop today?”

“We can’t have sex, you smell so bad.”

“Your breath smells like someone died inside of your mouth.”

“Don’t have coffee, you’re going to poopoo all over the house.”


Do you and your significant other get a little too weird? Let me know what you say in the comments!

Apparently, People Woke Up This Week And Forgot January Is Cold As Shit Every Year

If I had a dollar for the amount of times I walked into my office this week and heard someone say to me – or in my vicinity, because people don’t talk to me – how cold it is outside, I’d have at least twenty bucks in my pocket.

And that twenty bucks, my friends, is at least two orders of crab rangoons I could have enjoyed. Because it’s winter, and I’m bulking, or hibernating, or both. Whatever.

You see, apparently, I should have taken bets with people about the sheer shock and surprise that comes across people’s faces in January.  The utterly perplexing looks of terror due to the inclement weather conditions in the city, state, or region they have chosen to live in for at least a year.

If you have just moved from a tropical location to anywhere that has a ‘winter,’ please disregard this whole post.  You are forgiven; but not really, because you can read, and see pictures, and hear other people complaining.

What I’m gathering about society today is that, just like Miley being Miley, once January starts being January, everyone is all like, “Oh my god, why is it so cold, where did this weather come from, I miss sun, and where’s the equator and why don’t I live there?”  You know, because no one has ever seen a January before.

So listen up, people.  Truth bombs abound, January is a bitch.  She’s that month that no one wants to hang out with because she’ll suck the life right out of you. She’ll be best friends with December, because everyone likes December even though she has a tendency to be kind of cold hearted, but she will not be friends with you.

With that said, you shouldn’t be shocked and completely thrown off when you wake up on New Year’s day and can see your breath in your apartment. After all, it’s really fucking cold outside.

For those of you that refuse to acknowledge that there are four seasons, and they do, in fact, have to come and go, I’ve created a survival kit that will help you survive January, and worse, the rest of the winter. (AHHHHH!)

Coat: Otherwise known as a jacket, or safe place.  This bad boy is what you need to protect your little arms and torso from the big, bad wind. Just put yourself inside, and zip it up and you got yourself a personal igloo while you’re traversing through God knows what on your way to work.

Hat: Let’s just be clear. Being cold isn’t cool. Put on a goddamn hat and save everyone a case of the sniffles.  Bundle up, it’s January for Pete’s sake. (Sorry, Pete. But your sake seems like a pretty solid one, and I’m going to swear hats on it.  Any problems, contact my lawyer, who is also my mom, she’ll handle this.)

Gloves:  Five fingers or mittens, get your phalanges protected. Especially for the coffee addict who needs to stop in before work.  You cannot, absolutely CANNOT have your hands exposed.  They are too essential for everyday life. Pockets are for squares (literally, pocket squares are a thing, it’s weird), so make your walk to work a little less awkward and have your hands out of your pockets so you don’t look like you’re trying to make your arms into triangles and simulate wings.

A hood: And no, I’m not talking about the neighborhood where you grew up. Although, I’m sure that kind of moral support and camaraderie will totally help you through this tough time.  I’m talking about a hood you can put over your precious head.  This will act as a shield from all of the elements leaving only 30% of your head exposed.  It’s also an excuse to walk around in public having completely normal conversations with only your eyeballs showing.

Layers: The more, the better.  I like to tap out at an even 18 every day. That way, I know even my pulmonary vein is protected and toasty.

Boots: Super cute? Yes. Super practical? Double yes.  Winter is essentially the only time where you can wear the most ridiculous footwear in the name of warmth and no one will question it.  Walk into work with boots and a space heater wrapped around your lower half and no one will say a word.  Summer? Not so much.

Scarves: Fashionable and useful.  Not only will a scarf protect your face and neck from everything your coat and hood can’t, it will also conveniently double as a snot catcher.  Which is also a win, because if you don’t have gloves, aside from being a jackass, you’re not going to want to wipe frozen snot on your face. Snot scarves are so hot right now. They’re actually not, but no one will say anything.

Pants: Tights are not pants. Leggings are not pants. Pants are pants. And you need to wear pants in the winter.

Did I forget something? Probably. Maybe throw in an honorable mention including a smile, a positive attitude, and the knowledge that you moved to a place where winter is a thing, and in five months you’ll be complaining about how hot it is outside.

Stay tuned.

How do you survive the winter?


How The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show Was The Most Revolutionary Thing That Ever Happened To Planet Earth In The History Of the Universe Ever

Let’s face it, we all could use a distraction from real life from time to time.  I mean, honestly, who has the time to care about the CIA Torture Report or all of the civil unrest is going on within our own country?

The universe needed to be stopped dead in its tracks last night because genetically impossible women were flaunting their abdominals and mile-long legs all over CBS. And I, for one, was glued to the screen because you know what? Life is hard, America is imploding, and I need a goddamn break from my privileged lifestyle.

Last night, gorgeous models showed everyone what was really important last night by redefining fashion, music, and politics all in a nice one-hour package. And here’s a breakdown of just how they did it.

Victoria’s Secret culturally redefined our need for world peace

By having this fashion show groundbreakingly set in London, Victoria’s Secret is making a culturally aware statement that everyone in the universe just needs to hold hands and get along.  Not only are the models all different races, backgrounds, and religions, they’re also the most beautiful people in the world.  The takeaway here is that if the most beautiful women in the world can all pretend to get along without clawing each other’s eyeballs out in the name of healthy competition, then goddamnit, we can do our best to get along with everyone we hate, too.

Look at us! We all get along in the name of fancy underwear!

Look at us! We all get along in the name of fancy underwear world peace!

Victoria’s Secret groundbreakingly redefined the importance of water conservation

Who needs the Environmental Protection Agency when you have fourteen of the most beautiful women subliminally telling the world to conserve energy? Not only is Victoria’s Secret promoting energy efficiency by implementing LED bulbs into their runways, they’re also sending huge EPA flares all over the world by utilizing various plant and animal life in their costumes subsequently showing the world that we must care about nature all the time, even when we are wearing only our underwear. AND WAIT! THERE’S MORE! At the end of the show, the models are giving a big, well, toned, middle finger to all those water wasters out there, because they opted for a balloon shower rather than a real one. What pioneers!



Victoria’s Secret redefined the importance of dramatic hand gestures and winking after a short walk

And you thought the wink was dead! Not anymore! Thank you, Victoria’s Secret, for graciously reintroducing the wink into society.  No more winking and blinking to signal if one is okay after a surge of cardio activity, the wink has been pushed to the forefront of kinesthetic communication by signaling that, after a short walk, you’ve completed your required strut and are now signalling to whomever it is that you’re ready to turn around and go back.

Victoria’s Secret generously redefined the idea that anyone can be friends with the popular kids, you just have to sing really well and also already be successful in order to do so

Hey! You! Don’t let anyone tell you that if you’re weird looking can’t be friends with the most popular kids in school.  All you need to do is be an otherwise semi-decent looking person with a platinum selling album (preferably more) and a connection to Taylor Swift, who may or may not be a moonlighting VS model, and you’re in! So if you’re someone like me who wasn’t born with the genetic makeup of the most ideal human beings on the planet, you better start learning a talent that can skyrocket you into the friendship circle of the elite, or else you’re just going to be shit out of luck. Godspeed, mediocre people of the Earth.

The key to being popular is also being extremely, ridiculously successful to the point where no one really cares what you look like.

The key to being popular is also being ridiculously successful to the point where no one really cares what you look like.

Victoria’s Secret redefined the meaning of “too many cooks in the kitchen”

Case and point, when you have too many people in a concentrated area, one of them is bound to get hit in the face with a pair of 5-foot plastic, feathered wings while they’re trying to do their job.



Victoria’s Secret aggressively redefined the use of capes

At first one might think that capes only belong on superheroes. But last night, Victoria’s Secret aggressively redefined the use of capes while wearing undergarments.  If anyone thought that bedazzled bras and panties were just too plain for the naked eye, well, you can just jazz it right up with a color coordinating cape.  I was on the fence about what the fashion element of the show was actually about, but after seeing the monumentally aggressive display of capes varying in size and style, I think we can all agree that we stand corrected.


Did you watch the fashion show? What did you think?

The Completely True Story of Christmas

It’s time we start investigating what actually happened on December 25th.

If you don’t know the story of Christmas, you can read about it here. Oh, and welcome to the twenty-first century, by the way, how was living under that rock for the past… forever?

Reflecting on all the things we do to get ready for the holidays, I couldn’t help but realize how most of it is kinda… weird.  It got me thinking about how it all started.  Thus, I present to you:

How Christmas Probably Happened. But Actually Probably Not Really. 


Many moons ago, this kid was born. And he was born in like, kinda not a normal way, because he just appeared in this lady, Mary’s belly.  She was married to this really chill dude named Joe, and I guess they had an extra bedroom and no idea what to use it for, so naturally, a baby will solve that problem!

But Baby Jeezy wasn’t an ordinary baby. Because that would be silly.  Seeing as he just kinda picked Mary to be his mom, he can’t possibly be a normal kid, he has to AT LEAST amount to being a moonlighting superhero.

This kid, Jeezy, turned out to be puh-ritty special.  So they decided that his birthday was going to be a holiday, and celebrated worldwide.

Side note: My parents obviously didn’t anticipate my greatness or else there would be a holiday on June 2.  Still working on it.

Joe and Mary decided the best way to commemorate the birth of their phantom son, Jeezy, was to bring plants inside and decorate them. Joe got his favorite axe and hand saw, marched outside and picked the best looking tree on the property, and cut that sucka down.

He brought it inside, stood it up next to the fireplace; proud of his work.  Mary got all concerned that it looked out of place, so she did what anyone else would do with a tree inside their house; she decorated the hell out of it. Even put a star on top to remind herself everyday how good of a job she did.

Sitting on their living room couch amid a roaring fire – Mary, obviously having a wine, Joe, probably chilling out with a nice Budweiser – they agreed to transcribe the Constitution of Christmas AKA Santa’s Laws.


1. Every year people have to bring a tree inside and decorate it.

It’s a little known fact that if you cut a tree down and take it out of it’s element you end up with a sad evergreen on your hands.  No one likes sad trees, so by making it look like it was sprayed with the contents of a craft store, even the saddest trees get time to shine.

2.  All gifts must be stored under the tree.

Protect and serve the presents. Protect and serve the people.  It’s the tree’s motto. It’s the tree’s job.

3.  There will be an old man responsible for delivering all the presents.  

He will travel by sleigh.  With not eight, but nine reindeer. One will have a red nose.  ONLY ONE.

4.  His name will be Santa.

He will live in a far away land, working with really, really, short/small people to make toys all year round. He will wear only red.  He will be solely responsible for keeping the color relevant.

5.  He will have a list.

This is the master of all lists.  This list keeps track of the good people and the bad people.  If you’re good, you get toys.  If you’re bad, you get…. coal!  No one likes coal, except miners and barbecues.  So if you’re a miner who barbecues, you may as well start acting like a horrible person on December 26. You’ll be grillin’ steaks for DAYS with all the fire fuel you’ll receive.

6.  Santa will not break and enter. 

Santa doesn’t break the laws.  You can’t have Father Christmas picking front door locks, or breaking living room windows.  That’s risky stuff. Bad Christmas PR.  By process of elimination, the chimney is the only other way in, so, sorry bro.  Hope your suit is fire-proof.

Christmas is also the one day of the year where it would not be weird to wake up in the middle of the night and find an old man dressed in a red bathrobe/sweatsuit come out of your chimney and start arranging presents under a tree in your living room.

7.  His reindeer eat carrots. He eats cookies. 

Automatic coal delivery to people who forget the milk.  Same with people who give store bought cookies.  Santa’s bionic nose knows a processed chocolate chip from a home made delight. And he doesn’t reward procrastination.

8. There will be sweaters.  They will be ugly.

What better way to say, “Happy Birthday!” than with a knit sweater picturing an overweight man in a red suit riding on a sleigh with flying deer? The short and long answer is: There is not a better way to say Happy Birthday than with a knit sweater picturing an overweight man in a red suit riding on a sleigh with flying deer. Period.

They sat back, happy with their creation, and passed down the tradition at each family gathering, and it has become Christmas as we know it.


What are your favorite holiday traditions?

What Does Your Favorite Girl Scout Cookie Say About You?

Today is monumental – I’m talking like “putting a man on the moon, civil rights, and end of the prohibition” caliber monumental. Today, the Girl Scouts of America have decided to join the rest of the universe in the twenty-first century and allow their precious cookies to be sold ONLINE.

Yup. Big time stuff right here. Tagalongs will literally be able to tag along with your wherever you go, because you won’t need to ration those boxes for two months.

I’m going to put my degree in English to relevant use right now and make psychological judgments about personality types based on your cookie preference.  Choose wisely.

Please Note: I’m only doing the original flavors, because honestly, if you prefer a cookie named, “Thanks-A-Lot” over a Thin Mint, you deserved to be slapped and are probably eight years old and haven’t experienced nearly enough of what the world has to offer.

Go travel outside your hometown for like ten minutes, eat a Tagalong, and come back to me, bucko.

What does your favorite Girl Scout Cookie say about you?


Samoas: To be honest, you’re most likely pretty greedy and hard to please.  If you’re someone who wants a myriad of toppings on one cookie, you’re also probably someone who has fourteen of the same red sweater and justifies the purchase because one has smaller stripes than the others. It’s not all bad though, you’re eccentric, eclectic and see the big picture.  You’re someone who can take a bunch of random things and make something great.  You probably dress a little weird and might have people questioning if you are wearing hand-me-downs from the 70’s or just “chose to look like that.” But you’re a risk taker, where others will falter and are scared of a challenge, you’re not afraid to step up and take on something as weird as the pleasantly surprising, diabolical combination of caramel covered crackers and coconuts.

Thin Mints: You’re consistent. People know what to expect with you. and either fortunately or unfortunately, their perception won’t ever change. You will always be the party girl or the nerd, because that’s your reputation, and frankly, you always live up to it. You may be welcome at all holiday occasions, but only a select few know your true worth and value after you’ve spent some time in a freezer. (If you didn’t get that hint, thin mints taste great frozen, I’m not in any way suggesting you should freeze yourself in order for people to like you.) Oh, and you probably own a pantsuit and look forward to the occasion where you get to actually wear it.

Trefoils: You’re probably a dog or a grandparent. No one likes shortbread unless you’re over 60 or walk on four legs.

Do-Si-Dos: You know what works and you stick to it, you rarely deviate from your comfort zone.  You enjoy the simpler things in life, like peanut butter and oats, but don’t look down on people who get a little crazier. You prefer to be around others rather than being alone, which is why you prefer two cookies instead of just one, and you feed off other people’s energy.  You’re a people pleaser, and would do anything for those you love. Your wardrobe probably consists of a lot of solid colors (mostly earth tones) because you don’t usually like to stand out from the crowd, but do enjoy the spotlight from time to time.

Tagalongs: There is never a dull moment with you.  Once someone thinks they have you figured out, you go and surprise them by having your insides stuffed with peanut butter. You’re the life of the party, everyone wants you to join in on the fun.  You’re sometimes unpredictable, and that can be bad, because your friends really never know how you’re going to act, and may have to give you lectures before fancy events or parties like being on your best behavior at your best friend’s wedding.  You weren’t going to drink that much anyway, but it’s nice to know how your friends feel.

Which cookie is your favorite?  Are you going to be buying them this year? Do you think it’s a good or bad idea for them to sell online?