I’m Convinced She Was Drunk…at 8am.


Things my mother REALLY doesn’t like…violence, guns, tattoos, motorcycles, and men with long hair, so NOTHING about this conversation makes sense.

Mom: You watch Sons of Anarchy, right?

Me: Yeah. Why?

Mom: There’s a quiz online for you to find out which character would be your husband.  (Sends link)

Me: Lol…okay. Mom where did you find this, you’ve never even seen an episode of that show.

Mom: I got Jax and from description he looked pretty good. Heh heh heh.

Me: Jesus, Mother.


And, mom…because I know you’re going to read this…a gift from me to you.


Please excuse the fact that he looks like sexy Jesus, here.

Megan McMcerson…Internet Cautionary Tale


Yup…this is how that date would go.

About a year ago, someone with a traditionally female name, who went to my high school, added me on Facebook.  We had 30 friends in common…I stupidly accepted.  They only had pictures of dogs, and never interacted with me in ANY way, so, frankly, I forgot they were in my friend list.  Then, out of nowhere, this person, who, as it turns out is a guy, starts posting come-ons on my Facebook wall, in front of God and everyone (read: my mother).  Obviously, this resulted in deletions and un-friending, but…that still didn’t get through to him, apparently.

Tracy: “Did you block that idiot?”

Me: “Yes, but first he tried to re-add me twice, and when I deleted them, the private messages start.  The first one repeats exactly what he wrote on my wall, and the second one says, ‘It’s okay if you have a boyfriend. we can still hang out’.”

Tracy: “What the fuck!?”

Me: “Right?  I’m going to take that bait?”

Tracy: (laughing) “I think you should..it’s good to make new friends.”

Me: “Oh, God…I can’t wait to have that conversation with Ryan.  ‘Hey, so, yeah, there’s this guy I went to high school, who I don’t remember, who has no social skills to speak of, who keeps asking me out, but he said it was cool if we just hung out, so…I’m gonna do that, ‘kay?’ Jesus, he’d dump me just so he wouldn’t be the boyfriend of a dead girl.”

Tracy: “Maybe he WANTS to be portrayed in a Lifetime Original Movie.”

Me: “No man wants to wind up on Lifetime.”

Tracy: “CSI?”

Me: “Stop selling this, please, either way, I wind up a skin suit.”

Tracy: “Hmmm…yeah…that.”

I’m More Scared Of My Friends, Than I am Some Random Crackhead



Drew: “Hey, don’t tell anybody you’re going out of town on Facebook.”

Me: “Why, I have a housesitter, nosy neighbors who don’t work, and an alarm system.”

Drew: “Still.”

Me: “Drew, what are they going to steal?  The only things I have of any value are going with me to Alaska.  Are they going to make off with my 80lb TV that still has a picture tube, or my three copies of Zoolander?”

Drew: “You have three copies of Zoolander?”

Me: “Want one?”

Drew: “No.  And what if someone breaks in and isn’t looking to rob you?”

Me: “Huh?”

Drew: “What if it’s just some pervert who wants to…I don’t know…break in and jack-off on your bed, or something?”

Me: “Well, two things.  One, I’m never giving YOU a house key, pervert.  Two, I guess I’m washing my sheets when we get back.

Hammering and Nailing.



(The boys, riding in the backseat, spot a “place of business”.)

Xavier “Mom, that place is called The Anvil! Mom, can we go there!? Do they have blacksmiths!?”

Liam: “That would be so cool! STOP THE CAR!”

Xavier: “Mom, why are you laughing?”

Liam: “Mom, this isn’t funny; we really want to see this!”


Xavier: “Uh oh.”

Liam: (whispering) “I don’t know what we did, but I bet it goes on Facebook.”


An argument in favor of extinction.


Before I delve right in here, I’d like to start by clarifying that I love animals…like LOVE them.  I will totally kiss a strange dog on the mouth, and I won’t even share a glass of water with my own children.  I love them so much, that if I hear the first two chords of any Sarah McLachlan song, I immediately call the ASPCA and give them cash, and all it took was me watching this video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnYRhanK3XA on Facebook, and the next day I got this guy…


Seriously…will you LOOK at that face?

That all having been said…I think it’s time that we discuss the RIDICULOUS lengths that humans have been going to, to keep these lazy bastards alive:


I know, I know!  They’re Goddamned adorable and everything!  Look at those eyes, they’re like walking stuffed animals!  If I wanted an actual bear hug, from an ACTUAL bear…this is the bear I would TOTALLY choose!

However, it’s time we really just accept the fact that pandas have all signed some sort of Bear Suicide Pact, and desperately wish to go gently into that good night.  In fact, they seem to be trying so hard to end it all, that were they prisoners, we wouldn’t leave them alone with their own shoelaces.

Look, I am ALL FOR saving the environment, limiting urban sprawl, reforesting efforts, creating animal sanctuaries, criminalizing abuse, testing, and animal research; and for all of the other things that we do to try and limit the damage done by man…  But pandas are really just asking for it.

If you’ve kept up on the annals of panda husbandry for the last couple of decades, and frankly who hasn’t, you know that getting these black and white lumps to actually produce offspring is no joke.  First there are biological factors.  Female pandas only ovulate once a year, which is easily half as many times as your average 13-year-old Olympic gymnast (and a twentieth as often as any member of the Duggar family…males included).  Beyond that, if a swimmer even makes it in there on the two days a year an egg is in play, the poor offspring in question will be born the size of a stick of butter to a 220lb mother, with a penchant for rolling over in her sleep.  In fact, pandas are so casual about the survival of their own children, that while a normal panda pregnancy frequently results in twins…if left to the mother, the smaller one will die of neglect while the larger one is given just enough attention to MAYBE keep it alive.  I can personally name at least ten crackheads that I’d trust with a baby, before I’d trust a panda.

Now, here’s where it gets really damning…  That whole thing I just wrote…about the ovulation and the offspring and the pandas smoking crack…yeah, that’s all contingent on the pandas ACTUALLY having sex.  You see…they don’t even want to do that.  Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen…pandas are too lazy to even fuck, and we’re not talking about them getting it “on the regular” here…we’re talking about ONCE A YEAR.  Once a year, they are too fucking lazy to drag themselves out from under the bamboo bush they’ve been shame-eating in, so that they can get laid, and their species can live on.  Are.  You.  Fucking.  Kidding.  Me.

This is where it gets completely ridiculous…  Wonderful, caring, lovely people, who have doctorates in some science-y thing, have decided that they aren’t going to allow the pandas to commit this slow suicide.  Instead, they’re going to bring them into captivity and spend MILLIONS of dollars to track their cycles (I’ll pay them $5 to drop me an email to tell me when to expect mine…because I certainly can’t figure it out.), find them mates, and then try and CONVINCE THEM to please, please, please find it in their little bear hearts to hump each other.

In fact, it has gotten so desperate, that the zoologists have resorted to producing panda pornography, which they then show to frigid would-be breeding pairs, in an effort to try and get them in the mood.   (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/china/9932362/Panda-porn-shown-in-attempt-to-get-two-to-mate.html )

Folks…someone…presumably with at least one PhD, is filming pandas fucking…and showing it to other pandas.  (And you thought philosophy majors were stupid…)  Now, where they found two willing pandas to film remains a mystery, as there was no panda porn prior to that originally filmed copulation…it is a panda porn paradox for the ages, I tell you.

Assuming that they can actually cajole two apathetic bears into watching a television, you know that the bears just have to be as confused as hell.

Bear A: “Who the hell are these perverts, and why are they showing us porn?”

Bear B: “I know!  Wasn’t there a very special episode of Diff’rent Strokes that started out this way, with a pedophile who owned a bike shop?”

Bear A: “I don’t know, but if he offers us some wine and tries to get us in a shower…I’m so out of here.”

In the end, millions spent, countless man hours logged, advanced degrees questionably used, other species (who are FAR more willing to screw, by the way) ignored, and film sullied…you do get one of these:


And, yes, it’s cute…but in 6 years…you’ll be showing it the same (now) vintage panda porn, you showed his parents (or worse, new panda porn OF his parents), in an effort to get him minimally interested in seducing his third cousin, and the cycle can begin yet again.

Apparently, someone from children’s publishing now works at Sharpie…


Dear Sharpie,

First, let me start off by saying that I think you make a great product, and your store displays are appealing and really show the full range of your products.  WOW, if you don’t really have some great options in markers!

Now that I’ve buttered you up…we need to talk.  Your marketing department…the ones who made those awesome displays…they need to be fired (Or at least be punished…maybe take away their casual Fridays?).  Again, I think the IDEA is a strong one, but maybe…just maybe…creating a giant white shape, on each of the four sides of your display, so that people could try out your markers, wasn’t such a great idea.  Are you seriously giving the general public a permanent marker and a space on which to use it?  Who did you think was going to take advantage of this opportunity?  Phi Beta Kappas and Baptist Ministers?

Now that having been said…I was shocked at how tame and “public friendly” most of the writing was!  I almost got a warm spot in my heart for the good of mankind!  In fact, it wasn’t until I got to the third side that I saw anything remotely controversial, and it was this:


Not bad, right?  Okay, bad from the perspective of the aforementioned Baptist minister, but not remotely as awful as it could have been.

As I rounded the fourth and last side of the display…that’s when I found it.

To my GREAT surprise…the transgression in question wasn’t the graffiti itself, but the shape that YOUR marketing people chose for the writing area.


Now, look, Sharpie…you’re savvier than this.  You can tell me all you want that this is a megaphone coming OUT of that gentleman’s mouth, but I think we both know that it’s not heading OUT, and it’s certainly no megaphone.  Didn’t you notice the entire marketing department giggling all through the development and design?  Come on!  There is no WAY that they kept a straight face when they were pitching this one.  I do, however, give them credit for choosing an uncircumcised penis, for some international flair.

In closing, I think that if you’re concerned that your store displays will lack dicks…don’t be…someone will surely come along and draw one on your display somewhere, to help you out.

Thank you for listening.


PS…If you look closely, you’ll see a red dick drawn on your display dick.  You’re welcome.

Children’s Literature is clearly being written by perverts and weirdos. How do I get in on this? Seriously…I’m a natural.


So there I was…minding my own business, when I randomly found the following book, sitting on top of a shelf.

My Cat's Secret

Fanstastic, yes?  At the time, I posted it to Facebook, asking friends and family (most of whom would probably deny me three times, even without fear of execution) what they thought the possible secret could be.  I mean…come on…it’s a cat.  If they were people they would openly kill with such guile, that authorities would have very little want to even bother prosecuting them for it.  (Although…I have heard of a lawyer who would totally take that case.)  I, personally, was holding out that the cat in question had two separate families,  being that I had recently read this horrifying article, that showed those little bastards were  like traveling salesmen in the sixties, and had a family on every block: http://www.kittycams.uga.edu/research.html.  Another friend was holding out hope that the cat in question was about to come out of the closet (not that there’s anything wrong with that), but I think he was just misled by the rainbow lettering on the front cover.

In the end, the truth was finally revealed…


Yes, that’s right…an out-of-wedlock, youthful pregnancy, in which the shame of her condition caused her to birth her babies in solitude.  I like to picture her biting on a leather belt, to keep the mewling to a minimum.  Apparently, in this scenario, the birth of unwanted, fatherless kittens is a great birthday present.  Because nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, is a better present than some afterbirth getting on your favorite sweater.

Most alarming, perhaps, is how the cat got into that drawer in the first place.  Apparently, in this tale of shame and woe…they’ve also grown thumbs.  Which begs the question, if they have thumbs, then why no condoms?  Super irresponsible, Tabby.