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Archives: Nov 2011

It’s my mom’s 97th birthday

When I was a young boy, my mom caught me drawing a picture of He-Man’s Castle Grayskull on the inner linings of the family couch. She pulled me aside, put her arm around me and lovingly whispered, “He-Man is fake, Paul. But I’m real, and I can crush your spine while you sleep. Think about that while you get mommy a whiskey and her gun.”

I learned a lesson that day. Not just because I was verbally disciplined, but also because my mother took the rifle I brought her and shot me in the leg. Even today, my slight limp serves as a daily reminder of who’s in charge.

My mother’s birthday is this week. I’m not sure of her exact age, but I think she’s somewhere in her nineties or early hundreds. She can’t get around like she used to, so she spends most of her day cleaning the rifle she still uses to wing people who displease her. Everyone from the mailman to Smuckers (her pet monkey) to her shemale yoga instructor has at least a few pieces of lead in their leg. Yet everyone still adores or politely fears my mother. She is the sweetest and most deadly woman we know.

The history of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is one of America’s most beloved holidays. It’s a day when families across the nation gather together to eat turkey, bake pumpkin pie, watch football, vomit into dress socks, and spend time with their families.

What’s that? Oh, did I type “vomit into dress socks”? My apologies. I’ve been writing this column for many years, and sometimes my memory gets a bit hazy. I can assure you there will be no further errors.

Thanksgiving originated in Venezuela in 1374, when a boat full of whores were rescued off the shore of Puerto La Cruz. The seamen on the boat were so grateful, they gave half of the precious whore cargo to their Spaniard saviors. After weeks of feeding the whores locally grown sausages and wieners, they still seemed malnourished and fatigued, so the Spaniards tried feeding them turkey and cranberry sauce instead. It worked, and the precious whore cargo grew obese and considerably more whorish, just like modern day women.

The Grinch Who Made Sure Christmas Was Celebrated Reasonably

Once upon a time there was a girl who put up Christmas decorations at the beginning of November. She bought a tree and decorated it, and strung lights around the apartment. She posted endless photos of the setup on Facebook, gushing about how Christmas was her favorite holiday. Her roommate loved the idea as well, believing an extra month of good cheer would bring extra joy and happiness.

“I love Christmas!” the girl said with a squeal, screaming it so she could be heard over the Alvin and the Chipmunks holiday album blasting on the stereo. “I know it’s early, but I guess I’m just unique!”

But not everyone was thrilled with her early holiday spirit. Some found it to be rather obnoxious, as if Santa Claus had prematurely ejaculated all over Thanksgiving. Even the kindest of her neighbors had trouble holding their tongues.

“Who the hell does she think she is?” said Bob Goodkind, the girl’s neighbor. “When Walmart puts up Christmas decorations in July, it’s so they can sell products. That at least makes sense. That has a business reasoning behind it. This girl is just shitbag crazy.”

Things I ignored on my way to buying the new Call of Duty game

– A petting zoo with giraffes in it.

– An overturned semi-truck with Hostess Ding Dongs and bottles of malt liquor spilling out the back.

– Two Kardashians catfighting, one of them tearing the other’s eyeball out and pissing in the socket.

– Hot girls in Playboy bunny outfits holding signs that read, “Looking for horny 32-year-old unsuccessful writers who mock innocent people while hiding behind a cloak of partial anonymity in a crappy alt-weekly newspaper column.”

– Banksy spray painting a 40-foot tall image of former Minnesota Twin Al Newman on the side of a building, and asking me to help him.

– The cast of Jersey Shore attempting to pull off a performance of “Death of a Salesman”.