Christmas...Ew.

The holidays are an incredibly difficult time. Mostly because you start anticipating the festivities of the season a good four weeks in advance, as the memories of last Christmas season begin to surface after being buried for almost a year. For example, it would appear that I have happy childhood memories of Christmas, as the charming picture of me in a pink onesie bounding down the stairs to open presents would suggest. Yes, this picture is just darling, because in it I'm five years old. However, my parents got the adorable idea that we should try to re-create this pose every year. I do not know where they found adult sized pink onesies, and I do not want to think about how I saw my grandmother in a similar-looking one the night before, nor that said onesie smelled like mothballs. Guess what my grandmother smells like? Anyways, the point is that my parents just recently realized that around age fourteen there was a mischievous sparkle in my eye each year, only to then notice that was when I began to subtly flick off the camera in each candid jewel. That really drove home and now the onesie tradition has ceased - praise baby Jesus.

To truly enjoy the holidays, you've got to get past the small stuff. Nevermind the story granny just told about how in her time they used to call skunks "wood pussies" for the fortieth time or that grandpa just peed on the couch - but you are too polite to say anything, mostly because grandpa is an ex-marine, and though he's feeble, you still suspect he could do you bodily harm. Forget all of that.

And herein lies the crux of the holidays: you are so happy that the entire family is together that you gloss over the main problem; that the entire family is together. 

There is this built-in expectation that this must be the most joyous and magical time. In fact, did you know that some have actually dubbed Christmas, "the most wonderful time of the year"? It's true. Absurd, I'm aware, but the build-up of an event being the best time of the year can only lead to disappointment. If it's not the best time you have ever had, you have somehow failed. If it is anything less than a pristine white Christmas with snow falling gently at the time you open a wobbly present and - SURPRISE! - a puppy jumps out with a beautiful Tiffany's 3 carat princess cut solitaire around it's collar, as your boyfriend emerges from behind the Christmas tree and asks for your hand in marriage in front of your weeping family, firmly shakes your fathers hand, and then you all enjoy a delicious ham dinner; then you have not had a perfect holiday and you should be vastly disappointed. 

When you inevitably fail at having the best Christmas ever, you will blame the people involved in making it less than perfect. For example, when I was eighteen I was convinced that I was being gifted the new Honda Pilot my dad had just bought "for my mother". My parents kept dropping clues like "you are going to have the keys to success" and "this will give you the drive to do well". And then the big day came and they presented me with the old family desktop, still plastered in "no fear" stickers that I thought were cool in the seventh grade. Then my parents had the nerve to pretend like they didn't know why I was angry, convincing themselves they had dropped great hints. (keys = keyboard; drive = hard drive) Get real! I was expecting to walk out into the driveway and find my new car wrapped in an obnoxiously large red ribbon - and since that didn't happen - I now hate you and this Christmas sucks!

So, I have compiled a list of a few things that you can do to make this holiday season just a little more tolerable:

1) Eggnog. Nog is the bomb dot com. Nuff said. 

2) Tobogganing. Nothing drowns out emotional stress quite like physical agony. So, aiming for trees is ideal. 

3) Mood lighting. Dimmer lights calm the senses, it also makes hiding in a dark corner slightly more attainable. 

4) Talking trash. No, not to each other. When things get heated, pick on someone outside the family. The Obama administration is always a by-and-large favorite in my family. When you channel all of your negative energy towards something else, you become a team, and there's no "I hate my family" in team. 

5) Balderdash. Have you ever played this board game? It's a game that has cards with definitions to words that no one knows. Everyone writes down what they think the real definition is, someone reads them all aloud and everyone else guesses which definition is the right one. Sound boring? It's not. For example, let's say the word is "acersecomic". The actual definition is "one who has never had a haircut", however, you do not know this, so you could write "a comedian that is not funny", and your spouse could write "I wish I was anywhere but here right now"... You know what? Don't play Balderdash.

Dear Mom and Dad...Love, Anonymous

If your family is one of those that chooses to celebrate holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas with mass amounts of alcohol, this is for you. This is for you to anonymously mail to your parents for them to take a hint that you don't want them drinking with you, or to drink until they're blue in the face (or red and green as the case may be). 

Mom and Dad, if you want to drink with your kids this holiday season, there are a few things you must know. First and foremost, don't. Even though I am explicitly telling you that this is a bad idea, you're still going to so you may as well learn to play these popular drinking games correctly. 

BEER PONG:

EQUIPMENT: Two ping pong balls, a table, plastic Solo cups, beer, maybe a creative team shirt. (Suggestions: "Team We'll Regret This Tomorrow" or "Team We're Not Related". 

RULES: Two teams of two stand on opposite sides of the table, usually the size of a ping pong table if it isn't actually a ping pong table. In front of each team are ten plastic cups set up in a pyramid. Each cup is filled 1/4-1/2 full with beer, depending on how shitfaced you'd like to get. Cheap light beer like Natty Lite, Coors Lite, Beer:30, or Bud Lite is most acceptable, because it is easily chugged. (My personal favorite is Beer:30, obviously. {Now is the part where you say "I remember when I was a freshman..har, har, har.}) 

               Through a simple two-out-of-three rock-paper-scissors match, arm-wrestling contest, or cage fight until near death, one team is chosen to start the game with both ping pong balls. Each team member shoots the ball at the opposing team's cups, the object being to sink the ball in one of the cups. If a ball is sunk by a player, the opposing team must drink the contents of the cup while the other team does some kind of high-five hoot-n-holler ceremony. Each team gets two shots, unless both of the players on the same team both make a cup, in which case they get the balls back and the other team loses their turn. Each team shoots back and forth, the first team to sink all of the opposing team's cups wins, and the losing team must drink the other team's remaining unsunk cups. Then you will promptly vomit, or hit one of your child's friends. Seriously, don't play this game.

NEVER HAVE I EVER

This is possibly the worst game you could ever play with your kids, because it's sort-of like the truth portion of "truth or dare", but it involves heavy consumption of alcohol. Everyone sits in a circle and one person will say, "Never have I ever..." and say something they most likely know someone in the circle has done. If anyone has done that particular deed, they drink. If there is only one person that drinks, they must tell the entire story of the incident. So, for example, if someone says, "Never have I ever had a threesome with the neighbor and Javier, the Spanish foreign exchange student", and your child is the only one to drink, they have to tell the entire circle how in the summer of '97 they got drunk off of Javier's homemade Sangria and...you get the picture. Are you starting to see how this is a terrible idea? Again, never play this game with your child. Never ever.

CATEGORIES

The rules of Categories are simple, though  many. A deck of cards is spread face-down in a circle, and a beer is placed in the middle of the circle of cards. Everyone sits in a circle around the cards and, going clockwise, each person picks up a card and follows these rules, which are dictated by the number or face of said card chosen.

2 - You: The person who picked the card gives away a drink and says some variation of "you drink, bitch". 

3 - Me: The person who picked the card takes a drink.

4 - Whores: All women/gay males drink.

5 - Categories: Person who picked the card chooses a category. Each person, going counter-clockwise from the original person, has to say an item from that category within five seconds. For example:

Category: Different ways of saying "penis"

So, going around the circle, "dick", "cock", "Johnson", "Noodle", "Trouser Snake"...until someone repeats a name or can't think of one, and that person drinks. 

6 - Dicks: All males/gay females drink.

7 - Heaven: The person who picked the card points to heaven, or in a general up direction, and all follow in turn. The last person to do so, drinks. (This is because "seven" rhymes with "heaven", beginning to see a pattern? Pointless, but a pattern none-the-less.)

8 - Beer Me: The person who picks the card must chug the beer in the middle of the circle of cards, and replace it with a full, preferably cold, unless you're a total douche, beer for the next person who draws an 8 to enjoy.

9 - Rhyme: The person who picked the card must say a word other than "orange" or "flamingo" and the person to their left must say a word that rhymes. This continues on until someone repeats a word or can't think of one within five seconds. Loser drinks.

10 - Social: Everyone stands up, cheers, circles their beer around their head, and drinks. (I am unsure as to why the head-circling, I suppose it represents everyone in the circle.)

Jack - Back: The person to the right of the person who picked the card, drinks. This is because "jack" rhymes with "back". Is this sufficiently idiotic enough for you yet?

Queen - Question Master: The person who picked the card may ask anyone a question at anytime until the next queen is drawn or the game ends. If anyone responds with anything but a subsequent question, they drink. Example:

Card Picker: (to you) Who is your favorite singer/songwriter?

You: John Fogerty.

You: Drink.

King - Rule: The person who draws the card makes a rule. Like question master, this rule stands until another king is drawn or the game ends. An example of a rule is that no one may say "drink!" As people get progressively three sheets to the wind, the following is likely to happen:

Person who catches someone breaking a rule: 

"Drink!"

Person who catches other person saying "drink!":

"Ha! Drink!"

Person who catches other person who caught other person saying "drink!":

"You drink!"

Ace - Waterfall: Everyone stands up and begins to drink. When the person who picked the card sets their drink down, the person to their left may stop drinking, and so on and so forth. Therefore, the person directly to the right of the person who picked the card is the last to stop drinking and hence the most Hasselhoffed of the bunch.

(Crowd roars, someone yammies, two females make out with each other.)

Now, I realize that the rules to Categories vary, so, if you are someone that's reading this and shouting in vain at your computer/ipad/tablet-not-as-cool-as-an-ipad, "No! Ace is chugging contest not waterfall!", I say, shut up, idiot. This is how I play. Deal with it. If you want to try to tell your parents how to do something differently than they've just learned, be my guest.


Good gracious, am I glad that my parents don't drink, or approve of me drinking for that matter. They would be ashamed that I knew enough information to write this, let alone have experienced it. Hey, thanks for the new car, guys!

MANLAND: National Anthem

To be sung in the key of...well, whatever.

We're men,

manly men.

We burp and fart,

then do it again.

We have bad breath, 

and hairy backs.

We worship babes, 

with perky racks.

We say one thing, 

but mean another.

We can't say "no", 

to our mothers.

We think of sex, 

and nothing more.

Unless we're thinking, 

about the score. 

We can't commit, 

to the female kind.

But pledge our allegiance, 

to Bud Light Lime 

(Yeah, I know that is a total chick beer, but Guinness didn't rhyme.)

Yes, we're men, 

manly men.

We burp and fart, 

then do it again.

Welp, there you have it, folks. This is the last "chapter" in MANLAND. Partly, because I desire to get married some godforsaken day, and don't want this all to be used against me when said Man discovers I can't cook to save my life. Mostly, because I'm out things to make fun of Man for. Now I suppose I'll return to squandering away my evenings watching Tosh.O re-runs or drinking. Most likely, drinking. Maybe I should take more credits or get a part time job? Nahh. I considered starting a blog series making fun of Woman, but I have commitment issues, and that bullshit would never end. 

Bon Voyage!

MANLAND: Moving In

The honeymoon is over. Your family has flown back to the motherland. The gifts have been opened, mocked, and the majority of them returned. You might think you know Man at this point...you don't. Something like 50 percent of all Manland recruits end up annulling their citizenship and fleeing the country. The more you understand how Married Man expresses himself, the better.

Sharing Living Quarters

Much like when your father would day "while you're under my roof, you'll follow my rules!", there are a few ground rules you need to abide by when living on Man's turf.

1) Do not put curtains on the windows, pillows on the sofa, or plants on the windowsill. If it wasn't there when you got there, don't bring it.

2) Do not listen to Man's answering machine messages when he is gone. You will inevitably hear something you wish you hadn't learned. 

3) Any mysterious potions, lotions, or ointments you find in Man's bathroom are to be ignored. 'Don't ask, don't tell' will never be repealed from this scenario.

4) You can introduce new clothing to Man's wardrobe, but cannot throw out the old. Man has some unnatural attachment to pit-stained t-shirts, poop-streaked underwear, and jeans that are either 3 sizes too small or 3 sizes too big. 

5) The climate in Man's home will always be too hot or too cold for you. Any attempt to adjust the thermostat to a temperature that balances your homeostasis will be met with contempt. 

Married Man Manspeak

This is the means by which Man chooses to attempt to regain some of the power he feels he lost when you became a citizen. Understanding what Man is really saying might just give you two cuties a chance at making it to the Golden Years. Probably not. But worth a shot.

Man says: Anything you say, dear.

Translation: Please shut up.

Man says: I'll do the dishes.

Translation: I'll let Duke lick the dishes, then I'll put them back in the cupboard.

Man says: Of course I missed you!

Translation: You were gone?

Man says: Check it out..waxes at M.J. Capelli's are half off this month!

Translation: If you don't go get a wax, I'm taking a weed wacker to your upper lip.

Man says: Of course I used a glass.

Translation: That milk carton was so far down my throat, I considered giving you a tutorial, then realized you'd get mad about both. 

Man says: No, your mother didn't call.

Translation: Your mother called and I answered in a Spanish accent so she thought she had the wrong number.

Domesticating Man

What Man Does: Doesn't flush the toilet.

How to Stop Him: Drop a tampon in the bowl.

What Man Does: Leaves dirty dishes in the sink.

How to Stop Him: Transfer them to his car.

What Man Does: Leaves dirty underwear on the couch.

How to Stop Him: Refuse to take yours off at all.

What Man Does: Tosses his wet towels on the bed.

How to Stop Him: Remove his towel from the bathroom while he is in the shower.

What Man Does: Uses the decorative kitchen towels to wipe his nose.

How to Stop Him: Use his collector's edition Joe Namath jersey to wipe yours.

What Man Does: Burps at the dinner table.

How to Stop Him: Burp during sex.

What Man Does: Uses your toothbrush to polish his shoes.

How to Stop Him: Use his to help fight Fido's gingivitis. 

Fighting Married Man Manspeak

Man says: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Translation: I know exactly what you're talking about, but now you're going to get so mad that I said I had no idea that you're going to forget about what you were mad about before.

Man says: Is it your time of the month?

Translation: You're being a raving, lunatic bitch.

Man says: Let's make up.

Translation: Let's have sex.

Man says: (Nothing.)

Translation: I realize there is absolutely no way out of this, so I'm just going to stare at the wall and pray that a self-induced coma takes over my body.

Man says: I don't have to sit here and take this crap!

Translation: I have to sit here and take this crap, but if I say I don't, maybe you'll believe me.

Man says: Sit down and take a deep breath, sweetheart.

Translation: You're blocking the television.

Man says: You're just like your mother.

Translation: You're just like Satan.

Man says: You're not always right!

Translation: I have yet to ever catch you being wrong, but one of these days...

Man says: Stop bringing that up!

Translation: My gosh, do you ever forget anything!?

Man says: You're so cute when you're mad.

Translation: Bingo! You just grinned ear to ear and forgot about everything I was in the doghouse for! Now give me a schmooch and go make me a sandwich.