Category: Holiday

Dude or Douchebag: Mother’s Day Gifting

Hi guys! Fellas. Bro-cha-chos.  We’ve got kinda a good thing going here, right?  I’m your gal pal, your friend who is a girl, the one that never leads you astray from any potential v-jay-jay.  So I’m here to tell you, as your friend, this nugget of wisdom: If You F-up Mother’s Day, You’re Screwed! Valentine’s? Important. Anniversary? Significant. That time she gained 30 pounds to...

Ain’t No Parade Like A Topanga Parade

‘Cuz a Topanga Parade smells like weed.  This year’s celebration was one for the ages. Sixteen years ago, my husband and I decided that people suck, so we should make our own.  When deciding where to raise them, we figured, ‘Hippies are Better than Yuppies’ so we landed in Topanga Canyon. We weren’t interested in a community, new friends or even a backyard crop of ganja.  But we...

Dear Alfred, Be My Valentine

Alfa Romeo and I haven’t always been friends.  And we haven’t been lovers for very long. But this Valentine’s Day, if I get my way, we’re gonna park away from the street lights, tilt the seats way back and get to know one another much better. When I was a snot-nosed high school co-ed, my boyf got himself a Spider and I threw my nose in...

Father’s Day Gift Guide: Because Brunch Is Bullsh*t

Mama’s got all kinds of cool stuff for you to give to your baby daddy.  Like flashlights, selfie sticks and obligatory sex.  No really, it’ll make perfect sense after you watch the video. Here’s where to find awesome stuff for Father’s Day: Mari Cla Ro Armor All Wipes Looq Selfie Sticks Speck Phone Covers  

Mother’s Day Gift Guide: Give It To Her, Baby

Trust me, she wants it.  What’s that? I don’t know what to get!  My husband tries that same lame-o excuse on me every Mother’s Day.  Guess what? If I can squeeze little people out of my who-hah, then feed, clothe and hose them down for over a decade, I think you can belly up to the gift bar once a year.  So pay attention boys,...

Dear Santa, Who You Callin’ A Ho?

Every year, like any warm-blooded, marginally Christian grown up, I write a Dear Santa letter. And every year, it goes a little something like this: Dear Santa, I’ve been really (exaggerate, exaggerate or exaggerate) this year and I haven’t even once (lie, lie, lie). I was particularly proud when I (flat-out-lie) and when I (won-the-Nobel-Peace-prize or something equally ridiculous). So I’d really appreciate it if...