Tag: Christmas Eve

Allison and D.J. Need Your Stupid Problems About the Holidays

"Guru" Allison pondering the nature of the universe after three days of not washing her hair.
Allison and D.J. Fix Your Stupid Problems About The Holidays

Let’s face it – everyone’s family is nuts.

Yes, even yours. And I don’t mean your twice-removed aunt that shows up on Christmas Eve clearly off her meds. Even the “normal” members of your family are crazy. How could they not be? There’s decades of dysfunctional family history stored in everyone’s hippocampus. Quite frankly I’m impressed you turned out as well as you did. Let’s face it – you’re a survivor. And then every December you voluntarily go back into that den of insanity! After what they did to you! I wish I was half the man/woman you are. To go back and face your antagonists, wow. Just wow. I moved the laptop to the top shelf of my bookcase – right this second – because I needed both hands free. Yes, I’m clapping for you. That’s what you do for heroes. You clap. READ MORE

I Just Ate One Month Old Meatballs – A Confession

The evidence

Today I decided to throw open the sash of fear known as my freezer. I haven’t the foggiest what’s in there, and, now that I think about it, everything in there is actually foggy.

I have pounds of deli sliced turkey from back in October, never touched. There’s a Lean Cuisine something or other – the box is covered in frost. This is especially awesome since it must have been from my ex-wife and she hasn’t lived here in three years. I have, for some reason, some low-cal tortillas, a pint of Breyer’s, what I believe is beef tenderloin, some ice packs (have never used an ice pack in my life), a sleep mask (also never used), and various other meats, cheeses, and vegetables. READ MORE

I Wrote What You Told Me (Again) – Part II

Yes, Jimmy, if you lie God will tell this monster to climb into your bedroom window at night and rip you to shreds with it's razor-claws. This is why we leave the window in your bedroom unlocked.

Yesterday, to celebrate the holiday of a Jew named Jesus’ birthday (…or is it today? I could never figure that one out.) I turned off my brain and asked you to flip yours on. You told me what to write. So I did.

Here’s part II.

  • Sarah G.  –  Tell us about when you found out Santa wasn’t real.

Third grade. A little piece of shit named MonkeyMan Magoo (not his really name, but he might read the blog, plus he looks like a monkey) decided to tell all of us. We were all lined up to hug our third grade teacher Mrs. Groesch as we were leaving class to go on holiday break.  MonkeyMan Magoo decided to ruin the surprise. He walked up the line telling everyone one-on-one, “There is no Santa Claus.” Traumatic – yes. However he went on to develop a bad drug addiction, outstanding warrants, and even some jail time. That erased any trauma. READ MORE

The Flu That Stole Christmas – Part II

That smile is not forged from anything wholesome.

I left you last, Christmas Eve, 1am, while our last guest had to be escorted by my father who walked her two houses down from where she lived.  She also had helped clean, although I believe broke a few dishes.

Read Part I Here!

During the cleaning, we had set up an assembly line with my sister and mother bringing over all the glassware and dishes to the sink.  Al, my sister’s boyfriend, washed everything by hand and then handed to me for the drying.  My dad was breaking down the bar. READ MORE