Everyday, people across our great nation are acting inappropriately in public. Whether it be hugging a cactus because he or she wanted to get the “best” profile pic on the ol’ Facebook page or doing it with a transient in the Ross Dress for Less dressing room, bad behavior is everywhere.
Here are a few tips for both Guys and Gals on What NOT to do/say while in Public:
Ladies First:
1. Don’t wear super tight white shorts that you have to pull down by the crotch every couple of seconds. Especially if you are over 40. What’s wrong with a little length? And at your age, you should know that your baby door needs to breathe. You might as well fall asleep in your wet swimsuit or your tights!
2. Don’t drop your Dexatrim pills on the ground and then expect me not to say, “You don’t want to lose those now do you, fatty!?!”
3. Don’t just say you like guns because your latest boyfriend does. No girls like going to the gun range. Guns are boring. Sleeveless t-shirts and machetes are sexy.
4. Don’t go to a club and claim that some guy lifted up your dress. That’s a lie. Everyone knows it’s just a shirt that you refer to as a dress and “lifting it up” just means that you bent over to pick up your morning after pill.
5. 
Don’t act like you’re having the best time EVER with your “lady-friends” while out to dinner or at a bar. We all know that given the chance you’d bang any of their boyfriends and sit on their cat. Let’s be real, these bitches are only your friends because the last group of female dogs you ran with de-friended you on Facebook after you got drunk and fondled one of their nanny’s.
6. 
Just because you LOVE kitties, doesn’t mean you need to dress up as one EVERY Halloween. Plus don’t try to outsexy kitties. Kitties are sexier than you because they don’t have to medicate their genitals after a “really fun weekend.”
7. 
Don’t waste your time cyber-bullying your teenage daughter’s “friends.” You’re an adult so act like one. Instead, cyber-bully your husband’s girlfriend. She’s the one who left her thong in your Camry.
8. 
Don’t join a book club under the guise that you just love reading. We all know these groups should really be called, “Because no one else will hang out with us, I guess we’ll pretend to read together.”
9. 
Don’t be all emo and try to make a social statement through high school/community college photography. No, not everyone is beautiful. That’s why some people do a half- ass job dyeing their hair and cake on the black eyeliner. That’s why God invented Hot Topic. I kid. I kid. Those Hollister kids are just as gross.
Men Second:
1. Don’t talk about working out. We don’t care. Just work out, look good, pay off my student loans and STFU.
2. 
Don’t ever do this. Whatever this is. It’s not right and music shouldn’t be blamed for it. When you do/act like this, the vegans win.
3. 
Don’t act old and drunk, but do carry a pen in the front pocket of your shirt. You never know when they’ll be coming round your friend Bob’s apartment asking you to pay that back child support or sign over your rights to your kids.
4. 
Don’t high-five, fist bump or half-hug your guy friends – that’s all weak! If you want to show your dominance, mount every guy you meet from behind. Now that’s hard-core.
5. 
Don’t be that guy that’s always complaining about never having a girlfriend or dental insurance. Man-up! Quit randomly chatting with 14-year-old boys on Skype, put a shirt on and brush your teeth. And if all that fails, gay for pay is a very lucrative career-path that will afford you dental insurance and temporary companionship.
6. 
Don’t get a pic of your wife tattooed on your arm immediately after you get married. Wait till she loses weight. You don’t want your second wife to think she has the upper-hand in your marriage just because she’s less of a tub-of-lard than your first wife.
7. 
Do love cats. Contrary to popular belief, guys who love cats aren’t creepy. Guys who pet your little brother are. But don’t subject that cat to “family” portraits, Cosby sweaters, a rat-tail hairstyle and laser lights just because you are trying to prove that you’re secure in your choice of pet.
8. 
Don’t show off or brag because you can take one sip of brown liquor. It doesn’t impress the ladies. You know what does?? Chugging battery acid and then NOT calling 911 when you get sick and start to cry. HAWT!
Happy almost St. Patrick’s Day. Aka Amateur Day. AKA Palegurl’s FAVORITE lady-drunk, Jill’s day to shine! Like only she can.
This is Jill. See Jill drink until she throws up onto her parent’s carpet.
If you don’t remember Jill’s St. Patty’s Day escapades from last year, feel free to scroll down and find her story.
This year Jill plans to party harder than she’s ever partied before. Actually she has been pre-gaming since Monday. Her drink of choice this year – Everclear and Diet Peach Snapple. This drink guarantee’s Jill will get so crunked, she won’t feel a thing. A thing.
I recently spoke with a clearly intoxicated Jill at 8 am this morning about her plans for this, her most sacred week of the year. Enjoy!
Palegurl: So what’s on the agenda for this week?
Jill: Well, I feel like I’m a canary because I really like Tigers, but they don’t like me – ya know? (she briefly passes out) Do you want to see my cesarean scar?
Palegurl: You have a kid?
Jill: Doi. Like of course. I wanted to be a mom since 5th grade. In 7th grade, my dream came true and I had a baby girl. But I gave her to my parents. It’s not like I didn’t want her, but I already had to take care of my cat, Bubble Farter. And my parents have a pool. (Jill stares at me as if she has forgoten who I am) Do you know Dirtball Devin?
Palegurl: Can’t say I do.
Jill (squeals): You don’t know Dirtball Devin!?! She’s like my partner in shots. She can take like a bar full of shots and still not pass out while hooking up with dudes at after-parties in Tempe. (Spits on my lips as she whispers to me – almost touching my face) Sshh…like don’t tell her I’m telling you, but she told me her number.
Palegurl: Number of guys she’s been with?
Jill: Duh! What other number is there, bitch?
Palegurl: Quite a few.
Jill: Sshh. Her number is 269. Can you believe it? 69! It’s like fate.
Palegurl: I’m sure you’re close.
Jill: Totally. How old are you? Like 48?
Palegurl: I’m 31.
Jill: Dude!?! Do you have grandkids n shit?
Palegurl: No. I don’t even have kids.
Jill: Oh…I get it. It’s supes dupes late for you. You’re that thing…like you’re too dry to give life.
Palegurl: Sure. So where are you headed this year on St. Patty’s Day?
Jill: Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere with a bar and maybe a bull cuz that’s like authentic to Irish people and stuff. You should totally come with and show your tits. Sometimes I ride bulls at bars with a random girl. We do it reverse cow-girl. After that so many guys lift up our skirts. Last year it got so annoying so we just took them off.
Palegurl: That sounds fun for you.
Jill: Yeah. I’m sure we’ll be on Mill Avenue. But if any of those greasy, dreaded no homes people try to touch me before I get drunk, I’ll yell fire and then throw my cig on them. But like, I’m not a total bitch. After Midnight, I’ll give them some play. EXCEPT for that girl with the 3 teeth and the pit bull. I have standards n shit. 4 teeth and a Yorkie is one thing, but she’s like gag me with a meth pipe gross.
Jill changes into just a bikini top and makes me touch her cesarean scar and then brush her hair.
Jill: No, dumbass! You’re doing it wrong! You gotta rat the top of my hair and then straighten my bangs and then spray the shit out of it. What are you from like the year 2000?
Palegurl: Yes.
Jill is now on her 9th glass of Everclear and Diet Peach Snapple.
Jill: Don’t you feel bad for fat people?
Palegurl: Um…
Jill: It’s like they are there, but no one wants bang them. That’s like a tragedom.
Palegurl: Do you mean a tragedy?
Jill: Show me your tits! Come on. You’re boresville to the max!
Palegurl: I would, but I’m pre-maturely lactating and I’d hate for it to squirt out into your eye and make you go blind.
Jill: Colorblind? Ewwwww.
Jill sits legs crossed on the carpet of her living room and pukes on the floor.
Jill: Oopsie. It just fell out.
Jill tries to clean it up with her hand.
Jill: Can you hand me that box of wine?
Palegurl: Maybe you should just chill for a second.
Jill: No way. Whenever I puke I know, it’s time for White Zin!
Palegurl: Are you celebrating with anyone this year?
Jill: Well, I was going to go with Moranica, Liberty and Kennedy. I work with them at Souper Salad, but it’s like they are supes jealous of me and can’t even fit into extra small dresses at Ross. I just don’t know if I can fly with that mess. I really try to stick to my morals.
Palegurl: Interesting.
Jill: If I don’t go with anyone, I’ll just probably get up on some bar and shake my ass until I get sleepy. Someone is bound to pick me up off the floor.
See Jill celebrate St. Patty’s Day from 3/3/11-Easter Sunday, which is the day Jill refers to as God’s turn to get drunk.
This is how I found Jill ten minutes after our interview.
Jills “friend” Liberty was yelling at her: “Get up skank! You didn’t finish your Irish Car Bomb.”
Jill’s “friend” Moranica:
I’m like so Jager-depressed.
Has anyone seen my eyeball?
Dear God, It’s me Moranica. Can you please make sure the urine I left in this corner of the bar disappears? If you help me today, I’ll never let another one of my boyfriends talk me into a six-some.
Jill:
Oh. My. God. This is my buttplug brother’s skeez of a GF. Aren’t her mint Uggs like super gross and stuff? Look at her knees – they’re so grody.
I mean, who barfs in a bathroom?
Jill:
This is just what I do before I drive home.
I’m fine. I can drive. I just need to shut my eyes for a second.
Who stole half the halter from my top?
The cement feels so good on my black-eye.
Tongue kiss me with your friends – I’m 47 and my kids live with their dad and his new wife.
Jill’s sister Jocelyn:
I’m too skinny to go to jail! I got this outfit at Baby Gap.
My sister is driving home with her feet, but I’m getting arrested!?
Random Dude Jill hooked up with Tuesday night:
This St. Patrick’s Day, I’m just looking for a chick who’s willing to close her eyes during sex.
Happy Amateur Black-Out Day to all those who prescribe to the religion of green beer and waking up in bodily fluids.
God Bless!
Ever noticed how politicians and religious leaders always have a way of explaining themselves out of any mess they get into. No matter how ridiculous the excuse, we Americans seem to keep drinking the Kool-aid. Oftentimes we even re-elect these extremely flawed hypocrites and allow them to continue to force their stringent moral code and religious jargon onto us. Practice what you preach? Nah, more like just do what they say.
Therefore, since we clearly have no want to beat them, we might as well join them.
Below are suggestions for what to do if you are in a bind and need an out. Just do what our leaders do. It’s easy, fun, profitable and most of all, it feeds your ego to the point where you actually believe your own lies. Denial is the answer!
1. If you claim to be extremely conservative and believe homosexuality to be a sin, yet you still get caught having gay sex – fear not. You just have to project your ”gay behavior” onto everyone and everything around you.
For example you might say:
No no no. I don’t like men – I was tempted by the devil, by the media, by the way gay men seem to be better groomed than most straight American men. I blame Anderson Cooper, Lady Gaga, social programs, unions, Snooki and the government for pumping me full of propaganda that made me believe that gay is the thing to be. Now I’m off to some secluded camp in the woods with a bunch of other confused dudes to ungay myself and get baptized…in giant bathtub surrounded by shirtless men. Praise be to God!
2. If you are accused of cheating on your cancer-stricken wife with a woman who has a face like a horse, NEVER admit to it. Even if she gets knocked up and the baby comes out looking identical to you, don’t admit to any guilt. Instead, blame your friend. That’s what friends are for…to take the rap for you. It is far better to ruin his family and embarrass his children rather than your political aspirations You must stay in denial until your wife passes away. Then you can run off with your baby momma and live off campaign finance money from the people whom once believed in you.
3. If you have an affair with a woman 23 years younger than you and then leave your…cancer-stricken wife (there seems to be a theme here), don’t blame yourself. Blame America. It wasn’t your lack of self-control or hypocrisy that made you stray from the sacred covenant of marriage – the same convenant that you and your party run for office on, it was your love for America that made you bone-out in the wrong direction. So you tried to impeach a guy back in the 90′s for doing the same thing. You know what, it’s not the same when it’s happening to you. And you deserve all the understanding and forgiveness in the world while everyone else can just rot. Remember, you are the most important thing in this world. Without you, you would not exist. Think about it. It’s quite profound because you thought of it. Now go out there and claim that elitist Atheists and Fundamental Islamists are trying to destroy our way of life. Fear gets the job done.
4. If you work hard for something for years, but never succeed, take the money and run. This is a win win for you. You tried, but now it’s time to sell-out. Money is greater than integrity. Let’s say you fought for years to obtain health-care for every American, which included trying to take down corrupt health insurance companies, but sadly, it never came to fruition. No need to worry. Simply allow the insurance companies to buy you out. Smile, shake the enemy’s hand and then take that large chunk of change and put it toward your future presidential campaign. And if there’s a little extra ching in your pocket…how about some face-fillers! Youth is the best human trait there is.
5. If you get caught doing drugs…even if you get caught doing them off a gay prostitute’s ass, never admit to being a drug addict or homosexual. Instead take your kids and delusional wife and move a few states over. Once you arrive, allow a documentary crew to film you as you get your life back. Forget about your incessant thirst for male genitalia in your mouth and instead assist your wife with her scrap-booking or dust off her Precious Moments collection. Then contact Oprah for an exclusive interview where you claim to have put that “behavior” behind you and now LOVE boning your wife.
6. If preach about the importance of the abstinence-only program in schools and then that same program only gets your daughter pregnant, hide it. As long as you can, hide her pregnancy. Then when the time is right, pimp her out to the public. Get her on reality television, have her get someone else to write a book about abstinence (but with her name on it) and encourage her to seek out speaking engagements where she gets paid thousands of dollars to encourage young women to leave their vaginas alone until marriage. Then continue on your platform that abstinence-only education works, just not in your household. Then go fishing, hunting or shoot a bear in the face for attention. Whatever you don’t really do, do it and do it mediocre as long as someone is watching.
7. If you need to get people to agree with you, lie. In the end all that matters is that you get your way and your career advances. So you told the nation that there were headless bodies all over the desert despite that fact that no one, not even the authorities could collaborate your story, big deal. You’re lies have alreaday terrified the most important people – those who follow the terrorist threat level like the weather. Now just sit back and try to age more gracefully.
Former Evangelical Pastor Ted Haggard says:
By golly, I think the Lord is in your pants.
Sex with my wife is the best…when she’s not home.
I used my brain to cure gayness. WINNING!
Next to smoking meth, dudes are my favorite thing to do. Now send me your money.
The internet is a buzz with speculations that after years of heavy partying Charlie Sheen is experiencing some kind of cocaine-induced psychosis. Are you serious internet? Charlie Sheen on drugs!?! He says he’s sober and got that way within an hour – by using his brain. Now I’m no addiction specialist, but I do watch a lot of Intervention episodes and I believe him. I don’t see a drug addict. When I look at him, all I see is a man at war who chain smokes, never sleeps, drinks some sort of tropical punch, sweats for no reason and has aged 10 years in the past 2 months. If those are signs of drug use then I don’t know many sober people.
I have many family members who proudly profess their sobriety just like Sheen is trying to do. Wake up America! You can lose your career, driver’s license, home, spouse, kids, skin, money, respect, teeth and mind without being a substance abuser. Those things are notoriously hard to hold onto (just look at every lottery winner in the US).
And for the record, Sheen recently finished an EXTENSIVE rehab program in his California mansion that included no licensed addiction specialists or doctors. So if that’s not enough for you people, I don’t know what is.
I recently interviewed people who have never met nor will ever meet Charlie Sheen in order to get an in-depth look into his life and supposed ”addiction.” Here is what these experts had to say:
“I think Sheen is the most brilliant actor of our time. The way he so accurately plays a womanizing drunk on Two and a Half Men is amazing. How does he do it so well? I wish CBS would just shut their pieholes.” – Ed Naughton, Two and a Half Men enthusiast and creator of the blog, Real Men Wear Bowling Shirts, Ankle Socks and Drink Before Noon.
“When an ‘addict’ says that he or she is clean, we should just all go with that. It’s a lot easier just to accept what is fed to you rather than ask questions. Questions create more questions, which makes me anxious and when I get anxious, I have to go to the bathroom…a lot.” – Allie Simmons, author of Denial Keeps Me Off The Toilet
“You just wait till Major League 3, then you’ll all be sorry,” – Xavier, just a normal guy walking down the street holding a baseball bat.
“I’d still do him.” – Grandma Sandy
“Tiger blood is better than regular middle class American blood and crack is a social drug,” – Chuck Sheem, Charlie Sheen impersonator on Hollywood Blvd.
“I think Charlie Sheen is holding a lot of harbored resentment toward his brother Emilio. He (Sheen) really wanted that Mighty Ducks movie dynasty. I don’t blame the guy for falling off the wagon.” – Terrence Walden – An extra in the Mighty Ducks 1 and 2. Walden would have been in Mighty Ducks 3 had he just given his lunch to Goldberg like he was told to do. “He had already eaten four of the extra’s lunches. I just didn’t think it was right,” Walden told us during an exclusive phone interview.
“Until he’s accused of assaulting another porn star at a hotel while his two daughters sleep in a room down the hall from his, I’m not convinced,” – Jerry Miller, the first male dental hygenist in the US.
“At least it’s not that chubby kid from Two and a Half Men. Now he’s got talent!” – Mary Delusion, voted worst taste in everything in high school.
“What kind of drug addict surrounds himself and his daughters with porn stars and strippers? There’s no way that SOB is on anything, but good old-fashioned family values.” – Angus Jones, a man who has devoted his life to campaigning to keep glass out of American strip clubs.
“I’m a hot TV doctor. Some have even called me a ‘silver fox,’ but I can’t peform miracles or other doctor stuff.” – said Dr. Drew when asked if he would be able to help Charlie Sheen on his show Celebrity Rehab.
There you have it. The people have spoken and they have decided that Charlie Sheen is sober and WINNING. What the media is doing to him is just plain wrong. Sure, he’s asking to be interviewed hourly, but that’s only because he’s at war. How would you like to make only $2 million per episode for 8 years on a top-rated television show and then have it disappear? That would keep any man up at night wondering how he will feed his family and his whores.
We say - FREE CHARLIE SHEEN! So far he has proven to himself to have a higher success rate than AA and in some states AAA.
This is your brain making you sober. Any questions?
The effects of high fructose corn syrup. You’ve been warned, kids.
Denise Richards, Kelly Preston and many porn star’s revenge.
Twitter is the newest coolest social networking thingee since Facebook was yesterday. Since I’ve joined Twitter, I’ve found it to be charming in a I don’t quite get it kind of way. Sure I understand that it’s a quicker way to get the word out to the world that YES you too hate Sarah Palin or that you’re a mom who blogs and loves her kids and stuff. Or if you’re me, you use it as way to prove to the world that chicks can be funny…namely me. I agonize over each day’s trending hastags (#) in an attempt to obtain more followers (118 is not enough) and try to out- clever TweetinAssChic ‘s latest tweet – #howareyouathug if you can’t teach me how to Dougie? Damn, that’s good stuff. I don’t even know what a Dougie is, but from what I can tell by her tweet it’s Thugtastic.
So I tweet – #howareyouathug if you pay for the wireless internet? Not my best effort, but I needed something and quick. So I thought – Would 2Pac have paid for wireless internet??
Answer: No. Instead, he’d ride the neighbors unsecured network all the way through his Thug Mansion. This I know. Needless to say, I gained no followers, got no retweets and watched in complete envy as TweetinAssChic received the Top Tweet title for the day.
Basically, Facebook is butt cleavage while Twitter is side boob.
Where once butt cleav, whale tales and coinslots were all the rage, now it’s all about the side boob. The hottest accessory on any body these days.
Maybe it’s because my mother made everything I ever did growing up seem completely amazing, but I really only Tweet for the recognition. So that others can praise me. I do it for the chance that people will retweet my tweets or tag me as @PaleGurl is THE BEST PERSON EVER BORN!!!!
Growing up I’d hear this:
My Mom: “You mean you unloaded two WHOLE glasses from the dishwasher with me only having to ask you 6 times -you’re just the best daughter ever!”
My Mom: ”I can’t believe what a great swimmer you are. You put your head under the water and everything. Best in the class as far as I could see.”
Me: “Well that’s because it’s a beginner’s swimming class. And they’re all 5 years old and I’m 13.”
Me: “I’ve gained 15 pounds in the first week of college.”
My Mom: “You’ve always been an overachiever. It takes most girls a whole semester to do that! And I would just die to look like you. JUST DIE!”
Therefore, I’ve always been a look at me LOOK AT ME kind of person. I like attention as long as it’s positive. I’m not as far gone as most reality stars and wannabe ”celebrities” who seem to think that any attention (whether it be positive or EXTREMELY negative) is better than none at all. “At least they’re talking about me,” these people will say in regards to their haters. Yeah, they’re talking about you. Talking about how they hope you get simultaneously mauled by a pack of wolves, set on fire, robbed and cyber-bullied to the brink of insanity. However, to these types of people that’s better than being a normal old nobody who only has real friends, doesn’t get his or her picture taken and isn’t scrutinized publicly. Luckily, I don’t yet prescribe to that “at least they’re looking at me” mentality. I figure I’ll save that for my 40′s.
Since Twitter is blowing up and quickly leaving me and my measily 118 followers behind, I thought it was time to institute some rules.
Twitters Do’s and Don’ts and a few other things that bug me:
1. If I follow you, YOU MUST FOLLOW ME BACK. It’s only the right thing to do. If you don’t, it’s like me saving you from a burning building and then you repaying me with mouth herpes.. It’s just not right. Unless you are a super awesome, well-paid mega star with witty tweets, I assume I’ll receive a follow request from all those I follow. Don’t get it twisted, no one wants to hear about how “grateful” you are to have your dog in your life if you don’t pay it forward and follow your followers back.
2. No need to retweet every positive comment someone writes about you. That was just meant for you and we’ll let one or two slide, but constantly retweeting how great people think you are will only get you unfollowed. Since we all know you are in fact, not that great. Instead you were merely on a reality show about drunken “Bad Girls” who wear thongs like pants and pull weaves like Midwestern mom’s pull weeds from their yards. Just keep tweeting about which bar you’ll be paid to drink at this weekend, so that everyone on Twitter can not go there.
3. TwitPics are cool – within moderation. No need to share with us Twitpics of all your activities each day. Unless of course those activities include dangerous drug deals, visiting kitten farms or someone throwing acid in your face. All of these things are considered “awesome” and should be documented for the Twitterverse to enjoy.
4. Please don’t tell me or any of your other followers who to support unless you know them personally. Retweeting some stranger’s request to get you to help them get more followers so that they may save American babies from ObamaCare is not a good idea. It’ll only get that person more undeserved followers and make you look mental. Unless of course you get a request from me stating: “Please RT: Follow me and help support women world-wide fight clumpy mascara and hunger.”
5. Never be PRO Chris Brown on Twitter. He will only let you down with more lady-face-punching and homophobic hate speech. It’s just how he rolls.
6. Don’t simply Tweet HAHAHAHAHA! with a link. This implies that this link is universally hilarious and most things are not. Instead, you can post the Hahaha, but also include a brief description of the link so as not to make all of your followers believe they will be HAHAHAHAHAHA- ing along with you.
For example:
HAHAHAHAHAHA – watch as the annoying loser my aunt married gets arrested for identity theft then pisses his pants and cries in the squad car.
or
HAHAHAHAHAHA – I can’t believe that lady at work who sits in the cube next to me and uses her outside voice on phone calls all day fell into that mysterious hole in the parking lot in front of our office this morning. And then someone filled it with cement and now no one else knows where she is, but me. Check it out!
TwitPics
Don’t get cute Seacrest! We know who you really are.
The smart ones still remember you from Gladiator’s 2000…
Lame-O in a wind-breaker and slouched socks…
Yes, yes! True Story! Unless it’s this blog.
But you wouldn’t know that sir because you can’t even keep your bones intact.
Inspecting baby doors are always acceptable TwitPics.
Okay we get it. Your ass can eat everyone else’s ass. Congrats! It’ll really come in handy in your later years. Grandma’s got a big ol’ butt…oh yeah!
Follow me or I’ll spam you on Facebook!
Follow me or I’ll consider you Twitter Trash!
Follow me or I’ll Retweet your social security number!
People like this are worse than influenza and ribbed turtle necks…combined!
Follow this guy if you want to see Tweets about Africa and a bunch of other stuff he knows nothing about.
Okay now follow me please so that I can gain some self-worth.
And yes, my avatar is a pregnant Barbie. It’s totally American!
And here they are. The best of the best Facebook status updates for 2011. Please read responsibly and kindly leave your tan at the door.
1. (Name) 2011 has been my best year yet. 13 days in and I still haven’t made it home to my family. That’s right kids, Daddy is a missing person…who will never ever be found. Unless you go to my girlfriend’s house.
2. (Name) cleaned up my Facebook friend list for the new year. Now it’s just me and that chick from Argentina with the cleavage profile pic who’s always posting links on my wall that say, “Hey hot stuff. Click here and it’ll blow your mind. For real. I can’t believe what I just saw.” And then my computer goes blank. I think she wants me.
3. (Name) will eat off your plate and tell you there’s a famine.
4. (Name) It’s not gay if he threatens to kill you afterward.
5. (Name) Jeggings are the new (MC) Hammer pants.
6. (Name) I can’t wait for Season 3 of The Two Coreys!
7. (Name) This is going to be the year that I finally stop masturbating to Barbara Bush.
8. (Name) If you’re “bakk in scool” at 29 years old, it may be too late for you.
9. (Name) is single!!! And if someone would buy these 4 kids off of me, I’d be FREE and happy!
10. (Name) is still poking people like it’s 2008.
Best Facebook Profile pics of 2011…so far:
Daughter: My mom leaves me in the car during the summer while she goes to multiple speed dating events around the city. And if she finds a guy to take home that night, I get to build a fort in the trunk. Men are all that matters. I can’t wait to find one when I turn 10.
Mother: My daughter is always with me, in spirit. When I’m not passing her off to my religious sister or leaving her in the trunk of my car, I enjoy tanning, following Miley Cyrus on Twitter, taking pics of myself while driving down the freeway, sexting and taking birth control in public places…that way guys don’t know I’ve already went through menopause.
3 Reasons To Put Down the BOOZE:
1. You would like to fulfill your dream of finishing your 2 year dental assisting program in under 9 years.
2. You’re sick of waking up in the same high-waisted light-wash jeans you’ve been wearing since 1993.
3. You drive a 1987 Ford Tempo.
I like to write inspiring things on my dorm room wall like:
”Your shirt isn’t that tight” and “One day someone will love you enough to make you a vampire.”
His profile pic says: Hey guys, it’s me Dave. I ‘m new to Facebook, but I’m an avid Myspace user. If you give me your address, I’ll come over and murder you.
Many people will be attending their company/corporate holiday parties this time of year. It is imperative that you act accordingly while still having fun. That is, if you want to keep your job and avoid having your electricity turned off and your only child look at you and say, “I want a daddy who isn’t a broken hollow shell of a man.”
So here are some proper etiquette tips for your behavior at such holiday corporate events. (Unless you work for Jimmy John’s or any store that sells anything hemp – then go balls to the wall in that chill – “get off my white boy dreads” way you do).
1. DON’T. I repeat DON’T show up to the party with an erection. That just shows a lack of control on your part and will not land you that SVP position that you’ve been vying for.
2. Always bring a gift or something to share to the party. Like your brother’s wife. Let’s face it, he hates her and you’re hoping she is attacked by a large, lingering cloud of carbon monoxide in the very near future so you might as well bring her, fix her a stiff GHB and peyote cocktail and hope she makes some bad decisions so that your brother doesn’t have to pay her – hasn’t worked since he put a ring on it a$$ – spousal support.
3. Leave your kids at the holiday party. That says to your co-workers and management that you clearly care more for their company then you do the well-being of your own offspring and what company does promote that!?!
4. Hook up with EVERYBODY! Even the catering staff. You never know who has got connections and is willing to do stuff that your spouse/significant other isn’t.
5. Make sure you share with everybody at the party your religious beliefs. And be very belligerent about it. Get up in people’s faces and say, “Shame on YOUR God!” Or “If you were a God-fearing man/woman, you wouldn’t eat so much bread!” Also, blame their religions for causing horrible events such as the NKOTB/Backstreet Boys Reunion on the AMA’s and the death of Anna Nicole smith.
6. Eat off your co-worker’s plates while they are eating. This marks your territory and tells them, “Don’t you dare try to step to this cuz I’ll eat all your figgy pudding, bitch!”
7. Dance. Like you’ve never danced before. Grind everything. Poles, people, the floor, urinals, wine bottles and especially the Christmas tree. No matter how large the tree is, hop on that beast and gyrate until your thighs begin to cramp and then fall to the floor and cry. Loudly. Corporate America love sexy cry babies.
8. Carry around a cheese log (but dress it up like a impoverished little baby girl) and introduce it to everyone as your new adopted baby. Tell them the very long story about how you saved little Salvia from a life of culture, non-english speaking people and everyone she loves just so you can walk through life with an air of superiority. Then tell them how when she’s older and moldy, you plan to marry her ala Woody Allen style. Everyone loves Woody Allen and will soon forget that you are a delusional creep. Reference Annie Hall so they know you are a legit fan.
Sure, they don’t know she’s your cousin, but Jesus does. Now get out of there and buy that sexy cousin a shirt with actual sleeves. Nothing says, I was an unplanned preganacy like poor style.
Just because your manager is a 32 year old woman, that doesn’t mean you should spend the party smelling her skin and leaving old man nose hairs on her cheeks. Trim it up, Abe Vigoda!
Oh yes buy, sell, lie, drink Glenlivet and then let’s go into the closet and do stuff to each other with our wedding rings.
Growing up in Minnesota, Christmas was a magical time filled with white flakey snow, ice skating, warm fireplaces, black ice on the roads and black-outs in our homes. Nothing says Happy Birthday Jesus like watching your 115 pound Aunt down 8 shots of Jagermeister and 4 Schmidt beers and then puke on the front stairs of your parent’s St. Paul duplex. Did you know puke freezes rather quickly when it’s -26 degrees outside. Growing up, Christmas was the one time of year that my parents allowed criminals, racists, sexists, homophobes, pervs and crazy people into our home because they were family. Here are a few of my favorite memories – written in creative nonfiction.
**Names have been changed to protect the guilty**
FAVORITE Christmas Memory #1 -
Mom – “Okay kiddos, clean your rooms before the company gets here.”
My brother and I - “This sucks.”
Dad – “And hide your money and anything worth stealing - Uncle Brian’s coming over.”
That Christmas Eve, my Uncle Brian stole my Barbie Ferrari, but I forgave him in the spirit of the holidays. Also, I heard that he got some really great crank for it so I was actually happy for him since crank is referred to as “the working man’s drug” and by then he’d been out of work for almost 15 years. Maybe this will help him find a job and pay his child support, I thought to myself as I gazed upon my mother’s Nativity set. And in that moment, her ceramic baby Jesus helped me realize just how thankful I was that he had not stolen my Barbie 57 Chevy. Peace be with you, Brian.
FAVORITE Christmas Memory #2 -
One magical Christmas Eve back in 1988, My Uncle Dave brought over his new girlfriend. Each year Dave had a new girlfriend. Each one more of a mess than the one before. However, this Christmas the girlfriend he brought to my parent’s house was different. She was pretty and nice. Unlike the usual crackies he practically had to carry in, I didn’t once get a shot of her lady-parts because she was too drunk to close her legs. She was a real class act. Later that night before I went to bed, I asked her to read me a story (being that I was 8 years old at the time, this question was totally appropriate. Now had I asked her today, being 30 years old, a move like this may be considered a cock-block). But that night, she sat on my bed and read as I began to drift off into the normal dreams of an 8-year-old girl living on the Eastside of St. Paul. Vivid dreams of my neighbor being shot, my Huffy being stolen and being chased down Johnson Parkway by a group of boys with bats (Lesson learned the hard way: Don’t look directly at anyone on the Eastside – it’s taken as a sign of disrespect). And just before I fell into a deep sleep, I thought – “Wow, I can’t believe one of my uncle’s girlfriends can read.”
FAVORITE Christmas Memory #3 -
One special Christmas, my family gathered to celebrate and rejoice in the fact that my Aunt Beth was not in attendance. But then Beth burst through the front door of my grandpa’s home with the tall, blonde, flake of woman who had been following her around for years. At first we thought they were lovers, but then we realized she was just too hot for my Aunt Beth. Plus, Beth drove a yellow Saturn and I don’t know about you, but I’ve never known the yellow Saturn to be the car that makes the panties drop.
It wasn’t long before Beth was up to her usual antics…blaming everyone else for why she was miserable and had such bad taste in automobiles. But the icing on the cake came when Beth accused everyone in the family of molesting her, even me. At the time, I was 9 years old and she was 40. That night I learned, never trust your unborn self. You’re dangerous, inappropriate and can’t even remember your crimes.
FAVORITE Christmas Memory #4 -
The weather outside was delightful and some of the guests inside my parent’s home Christmas day 1997, were frightful. My cousin Angie brought her boyfriend to our house for Christmas for the first time and *GASP* he was black. Coming from a long line of super pale white people, I guess he kind of stood out in my family. And since my Aunt Leslie had a penchant for marrying ignorant and unattractive men who call her fat, her husband wasn’t afraid to speak his “mind.” After opening gifts, most of the grandkids headed upstairs to listen to my new Jay-Z CD including Angie and her boyfriend. But right as I started to make my way up the stairs, my Uncle Jake (through marriage-ONLY mind you) waddled up behind me in his Minnesota Vikings-colored Zubaz and MUFF DIVER t-shirt, his receding hairline was sweating from moving off the recliner to walk the 10 steps toward me, and he whispered, “Hey Ickoleen, (that’s the kind name he had given me at the age of 9 years old and then never stopped referring to me that way), “Don’t leave him alone with your stuff. You know how they are, he’ll steal it.” Since technically, he was my uncle, my response had to be appropriate and respectful so I said, “Shut up you f*cking racist idiot.” That’s just how I was raised.
More memories coming soon!
Now enjoy some fun family holiday pics!
Even though we’re losing our home and had to give away two dogs and a hamster, we still spent $1,000 at Sears to appear as though we are happy, fun-loving, successful and not seriously considering selling one of the kids. “The ugliest one should go,” – Dad.
If your table looks like this, go eff yourself. Happy Holidays!
“Bitch, this is the best outfit I own and I’m wearing it to your mom’s for Christmas.” – Dad
“Why are you sweating so much and when are you going to learn to read?” – Mom
“I can’t believe American Eagle is 40 miles away. Ugh, I’d give anything for my license and fur-lined hoodie!” – Son
“We married-off all of our children, except for Sandy. Damn Sandy! If she’s not married or impregnated by someone white by next Christmas, we’re Photoshopping her out of the holiday card.” – Loving Parents
This pic screams, “LOOK! We’re both married to dudes who like to do each other.”
“The kids outnumber the adults. It won’t be long until they go all Menendez Brothers on us.” – Grandma Judy
“Little do they know we rent our home, have massive credit card debt and lease our Kia. Boy, will they be disappointed.” – Mom
Are you sick of spending the holidays with a group of people you were merely born into?
Are you tired of not having a choice as to who you allow to abuse, harass, objectify and humiliate you on the birthday of our Lord and Savior?
If you answered yes or no to any of these questions, here’s YOUR solution: Simply scare your family away!
There are many ways to guarantee that you are NEVER again invited to another holiday or any event with that horrible group you must refer to as your family.
Here are a few suggestions for the destruction of all family ties:
1. Pee on the turkey, ham, turducken, tofurkey or whatever those losers you call family members are serving. And don’t just pee on it in secret. Hop right up on the table and squat or stand over it right as Uncle Glen is about to dig in. Nobody, not even your blood-relatives tolerate when the food they’ve been salivating over all year is urinated on.
I only peed on your turducken cuz I hate you and your children.
2. Start your Aunt Joan’s holiday sweater on fire…with a blowtorch. That’ll teach her to ugly up the party with her hideously loud holiday sweater.
Dear Aunt Joan,
Not only do you have a sweater for every holiday, including MLK day, but you also pretended not to hear as your husband discussed his approval of my newly budding breasts when I turned 13. Thanks for nothing. Enjoy being on fire!
3. Tell your Grandpa that all the money he’s constantly giving to the television Evangelists is actually going to support health-care and welfare for atheist unwed mothers who can’t cook and tailgate on the freeway. Bring proof. Which to the elderly is simply something typed into a Word Document and printed out. He’ll think it must be official if someone who knows the inner-workings of “that webby box” created it.
Let’s all touch each other and try not to get boners. UH OH! Too late, Reverend Tom!
4. Take your Uncle Roger’s Dust-Off canisters and whipped cream canisters and break them with a sledgehammer right in front of his face. It’ll devastate him and cause everyone else to wonder – Is this the day Roger is actually going kill us all? Good old Rog can’t make it through a holiday without huffing. And we all know that he can’t drive himself to one of the few stores open on Christmas day since he lost his license and car back in 1989. The beauty of this destruction is that you’re the only one left in the family with a valid driver’s license and a car. Therefore, get out of there ASAP. Speed off in your ride and never look back. They’ll all be in a “better” place by the morning.
No more “Walking on Sunshine” for Uncle Rog. He’ll be beaming it up on the Death Star.
Check back for more helpfully destructive tips…
Once you reach adulthood, you begin to realize that your parents left out A LOT of helpful advice about life. Most likely that is because they a) hate you b) feel better about themselves when watching you fail or c) were just never sober long enough to string together a coherent sentence with helpful tips about life. So here’s some of the advice you should have received, had your parents actually wanted you.
IMPORTANT ADVICE For the Ladies:
1) When you grow up one of the worst things you can do is continue to talk in a wannabe cutesy/whiny baby voice. Baby talk is not cute. Not even when babies do it. Adult women who purposely talk in squeaky baby voices are worse than cholera.
2) Dudes will cheat on you. Even the religious ones. Now that’s not saying that all the men you date will cheat, but I guarantee at least one will. And when that happens, you will be surprised, hurt, feel fat, maybe take him back briefly and then have trust issues for eternity. It’s a fun cycle. That’s why God invented therapy and Klonopin. Take advantage of God’s gifts.
3) Tanning beds decrease brain function and kill rainbows. Now, I’m not saying this just because I am unable to get tan. I’m saying this because my pet bunny was murdered by a tanning bed. Do you really want to support a murderer?
4) If you are outspoken and smart, guys will call you a bitch. If you are quiet and reserved, guys will call you a bitch. If you are easy and open, guys will call you a bitch. If you are saving yourself for the reincarnation of Corey Haim (like I am), guys will call you a bitch. Moral of this lesson: You’re not a bitch. Some men just have very small vocabularies and are angry every second that they are not masturbating.
5) When in a public ladies room do not do ANY OF THE FOLLOWING: a) Leave the toilet unflushed. You should be courtesy flushing through out. b) Talk on your cell phone. c) Talk to each other through stalls. None of the other “ladies” in the restroom care about what a “dick” Scott is being to you. d) Make noises. Do you really need attention that badly? e) Leave without washing your hands. Every time your hands go unwashed an angel drowns in a sewer.
6) Never say this about your girlfriends: “We’ll be friends forever!” Cuz most likely you won’t. Unfortunately, many friends grow apart. It’s not that they are bad friends, it’s just that they didn’t care enough to call or even text you when your boyfriend cheated on you while he was in prison. RUDE!
7) Everyone hates the prettiest girl in the room. It’s girl code. If it’s you, boo hoo. Go cry into a mirror while looking at your gorgeous, undeserved face.
8) Most men you date, will not want to pay for you. Too bad. NEVER. EVER. Offer to go Dutch or pick up the tab. That just perpetuates the stereotype that women are bad at math.
IMPORTANT ADVICE For Guys:
1) Between 18-23 years old - it’s somewhat cool or expected to be the loud, belligerent guy at the party with molesting tendencies, but after that it’s just against the laws of nature. Step away from the pipe, put down the Natural Ice 40 oz and brush your teeth….religiously. If you start brushing your teeth as much as you drink and/or smoke weed, you’ll get a job…for Crest and they offer excellent benefits.
2) Women will cheat on you. Even the Jesus lovers. Now that’s not saying that every woman you date will cheat on you, but I guarantee at least one will. And when that happens you’ll call her a whore, question your manhood, consider switching to men and vow that you will start working out and lifting weights until you can fit all your heartbreak into your bulging biceps, triceps and glutes. However, instead of doing any of the things I’ve listed above, may I suggest buying yourself a cat? They’re just so fluffy.
3) Not everything can be solved with fist fighting. Actually, there are very few things that can be solved with one simple punch to the schnoz. Those things include: racism, health-care reform, the war on cocaine and child-hood obesity. Example: “If you have one more triple bacon cheeseburger, I’m going to punch you in the face!”
4) It doesn’t matter how often you shower, touch your balls or cheer for some stupid sports team that never wins, as long as you have money. You are far less annoying when women have a motivating factor for “loving” you. And yes, millions of women every day date guys they’d sooner see burned alive than bang, but that all mighty dollar is more powerful than The Force and all the lightsabers in the world combined.
5) Don’t get married until you are fat, desperate, develop some kind of chronic syndrome that requires assistance or are ready. Sure your lady may say, “If you don’t marry me, I’m out.” However, she won’t really leave. She’ll just wait it out hoping you’ll die first (statistics say you will) and stop having sex with you, which is what I assume marriage is like anyways.
6) Don’t ever wear wife-beater tank tops as shirts. They are meant for two things and two things only – starring on episodes of Cops and being an extra on Jersey Shore.
7) At least two of your dude friends have touched you downstairs when you were passed out. Curiosity killed your friendship, but satisfaction brought it back.
8) You will never be in the NBA, NFL, NHL, MLB, MENSA, B2K or the ACLU, but you will be in the NRA and/or jail.
Free beer is the only thing the government can’t take away from me to cover my back child support.
Letters from young professionals to their baby:
“Mommy and daddy only wanted you because it looked good on our resumes.”
“We wish you were more like Pinot Grigio.”
This chick says:
“I get WAAAAY more drunk when I’m pregnant.”
“I can create life.”
Mom says: “You were an excellent tax deduction for 18 years.”
“Your dad didn’t want a baby. He wanted a boat.”
