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We Love Each Other

bad wrapping

I wrap good.

Don’t you love a good conversation with your family on the Holidays? My family sure does…

Brother (from a room on the other side of the house): “Come help me, I don’t know how to wrap.”

Me: “No.”

Brother: “Come help me.”

Mom: “She said no.”

Brother: “Okay.”

On shopping last minute…

Brother: “What can I get for Dad?”

Me: “He likes to be outdoors. You should get him a tent so he can camp out in the back yard.”

Brother: “He would probably love that.”

Me: “Or, a pillow for when he sleeps on the floor. I was joking about the tent.”

Brother: “I am going to get him slippers. If he doesn’t like them I will take them.”

Me: “I don’t think that is how it is supposed to work.”

Brother: “Do you have any money?”

Merry Christmas everyone. May all of your conversations be this deep.

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You Are Not Alone

Some things happened yesterday while I was practicing all of my rebellious apocalyptic antics. Terrifying things, then hilarious things, then sheer miraculous things. The world gave me what I assumed were three parting gifts.

Gift #1

I could have used my words to describe this present. I could have eloquently explained the horror upon horror I stepped in found awaiting me around every corner of my apartment yesterday. But instead, I took photos of it for you.

cat puke

Casts love to get high on ipecac.

Why would this happen? Why would Ace or Jack or both of them have a vomit marathon? I wanted to be furious. I wanted to stop gagging. I wanted to quit cleaning it up. After all, the world was supposed to end, so  I thought, “what’s the point”. That’s when I realized it. The felines must have read my post from yesterday and decided to give all of their fucks away… on every surface of my apartment. It was my own fault.

Gift # 2

Once I successfully scraped up all of that plastered puke, I needed to get out in the fresh air and find dinner. But, the first step to anything is checking Facebook. So that is what I did. There he was. Le Clown again, being all savior like. He successfully saved me from my kitty bile induced melancholy with one of his masterly constructed and equally hilarious secular Xmas cards.

le clown secular chrismas

Someone bring me a Zippo. HURRY.

If cancer isn’t real, then where did all that Movember money go? Busted, Le Clown! I know you used that nice chunk of change to stock up on Astroglide. Alas, I can never stay mad at you. Thank you for being you, Jesus Clown Super Star On Fire.

Gift # 3 Read the rest of this entry

Picture This…

Why is there so much badassery going on in the WordPress crib right now? Is everyone not aware that December is supposed to be the Friday of the months of the year? It is supposed to be the free pass month for all things lazy, self-indulgent, and greedy. Y’all are messing that up for me (at least the lazy part), but you know what? It is worth it. Because I love you. There I said it.

Speaking of all things badass, there is yet another event happening that I couldn’t not participate in. Julie and Byronic Man, I am talking to you. I am after your sheets. If those reading this don’t know what I am talking about, that’s a shame, but I’ll forgive you if you visit one of their pages and educate yourself. So generous.

You see, just last night Jack decided to practice his own self indigent behavior. The little fellow wore himself out making confetti of my softest-sheets-ever and didn’t hesitate when he got to the pillow cases. To top it off, like a cherry on top of a resentment sundae, he puked right in the middle of the shredded pile and then pranced off to destroy the rest of my favorite things.

I may not sleep under my sheets, but they are still an integral component of the optimal sleep environment. So, come to think of it, I am not being greedy at all. I need those sheets. Plus, who wouldn’t want to sleep on top of one of Julie’s adorable chipmonks or the hottest guy on WordPress Byronic Man?

As the rules state, I have harnessed every ounce of holiday cheer to bring you the 25toFly Christmas Card. Here it is:

funny christmas 25tofly

A special greeting for you at my family’s expense.

Do you know what it is like to have your photo taken at every worst possible moment? Have you ever experienced the trauma of being blinded by the flash in the middle of your mascara “O” face (you know you do this ladies)? It’s impressive, really. The man you all want to have a beer with so badly can even manage to take a bad picture of himself. You may still like my Dad more than you like me, but if you keep hanging out with him for too long, you can kiss your photogenic-ness goodbye.

bad christmas pics

Dad has been capturing our sweet little distorted mug shots since the 90′s!

As if this post didn’t including enough of y’alls favorite things (my dad, contests, sexy people) I am going to leave this (rough version) here for you to ponder. The placement of mistletoe is in no way suggestive of anything other than the pure Christmas spirit.

fly blog award

Just kidding. It’s sexual innuendo.

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This is My Festivus Post

The last time that I participated in any kind of gift exchanging game for Christmas was on a first date. Can you imagine that? You don’t have to. I will tell you how it goes. If you are me, that is.

awkward christmas

Holidays aren’t holidays until things get uncomfortable.

My date picked me up for dinner somewhere back in December of 2008. We were supposed to go to a simple dinner. Me and him. On the way to the restaurant, he receives a phone call, which he takes, and has a casual conversation from which I infer that plans are about to change.

Date: “That was my mom. My family is having a Christmas party down the road. Do you want to go? It will be fun”.

Sure, I love meeting entire families on first dates. 

Me: “Umm… I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to intrude. They don’t know me.”

You barely know me.

Date: “Oh come on. They are super friendly. They will love you. There will be a lot of great food and presents.”

Me: “Presents?”

Date: “Yeah, they play Dirty Santa every year at this thing.”

As we continued down the highway, the dialogue went back and forth between him assuring me it wouldn’t be awkward and me trying to find a way to escape the moving car without looking obvious. Or killing myself. We ended up going, because I have an adverse reaction to telling people no, and guess what? It was awkward. Imagine that. Read the rest of this entry

Emotions: How Do They Work?

I don’t know if it is all of the lovely comments I received on yesterday’s post, the fact that Le Clown tried to help my wasteland Facebook page last night, or the fact that I stopped killing people with fiber wire for a few days, but I am a tad bit… emotional.

First, I heard about this story this morning on the radio.

dr. house it's not cancer

Word

If you are too lazy to read it, the gist of the story is that a principal gave two boys the option of holding hands for a while or suspension in response to their misconduct of fighting. I missed the first half of the story on the radio stating what the boys were in trouble for, so initially I couldn’t help but think, “Well that sounds like a punishment pulled right out of the homophobia jar”. It made me feel a bit dejected. Then I caught the full story and felt all merry and stuff. The boys were fighting. I believe that holding hands wasn’t a punishment, but  rather an opportunity to teach the kids a lesson of humanity. A kiss and make up kind of thing. Whether or not I am right or wrong, I will be running around with the can’t-we-all-just-get-along sentiment for the rest of the day.

Then, as if my eyes weren’t already swollen shut, the radio station announced an opportunity to see real snow here in south Louisiana where I am still wearing shorts and an ankle bracelet in the middle of December. Yes, they are apparently going to fill a part of town with “real” snow. I mean, I was wigging out with happy because of the snow on WordPress, but now they are manifesting the real stuff in the middle of my seventy-degrees-and-sunny town. The logistics of this event are still baffling my sensitive little mind, but who cares about logic when there is poorly frozen precipitation?

After I regained composure, and arrived to work right on time, then and only then did I promptly realize that my pants were ripped in a not so subtle area. It was too late to go home and change. Naturally. Sheer coincidence or life’s impeccable comedic timing? You tell me.

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Christmas in September

thechive meet up new orleans

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG .. etc. etc.

I am going to try not to have an aneurysm and/or vomit glitter right now. If you have been around since I began this blog (a little over six months ago *distant cheering*) you may remember a little something about me. I am heinously obsessed with theChive.com and their sister site theBerry.com. Over the past year I have watched like a caged kitten two feet away from his pals playing with a laser light and waiting ever so impatiently for theChive to have a meet-up that is close enough to Louisiana for me to attend. Well, they did even better than close to Louisiana. The meet-up is in Louisiana.

I can proudly say that today is the day. I shall finally get my wish. I am purchasing my ticket for theChive meet up in New Orleans this Friday!! You know I am truly excited when I use two exclamation points, or when I use an exclamation point period. That’s some serious punctuation that is not to be toyed with. I simply wanted to share my elation, and explain my absence this weekend. Here is what is coming up on 25ToFly:

  • Remember how I promised to tell y’all a story involving a cat lady, alcohol, and a sexual fetish? Well, it’s still coming (seriously, no pun intended).
  • If the article I attempted to pitch to Cracked.com bombs (at this point I am certain it already did) I am going to finish it and post it here. Yay for rejection and submitting you to my failed writing attempts.
  • Something about the shit that goes down at my nail salon. Sounds intense, right?

Some other things are in the works, but I’ll leave you with those three for now. You may also remember a while back I mentioned I was starting a second blog. Well, I did. I launched it last week, but I decided that it shall remain anonymous due to the content containing mainly personally incriminating information.

Oh, and if I do not return on Monday, it is likely I have run off to stalk the editors at theChive. In this case, please alert the appropriate people, like no one.

Here is a grumpy cat too. Are you entertained yet?

grumpy cat

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Cordial Holiday Meals With The Cords

mad thanksgiving cat

I am the savage one. You might want to check your yams for cat-eye crust.

Well, well, well. It looks like Blogger Idol is allowing us peons to play along from the loser’s bench. I sound a little sour, but truth be told I think it is a great idea. I also like the challenge of having a topic provided for me to write about. The topic for this week is Family Traditions. You might need a cocktail for this one.

The holiday season is inevitably rushing towards us. I have to keep reminding myself of this, because in Louisiana it feels like summer throughout the entirety of this thing they call “fall”. I am not quite sure what that word means. The first in the string of holiday festivities for my family is Thanksgiving which then leads straight on into Christmas and ends with New Years. I know you are grateful for that uncommon knowledge I just provided.

I present to you a play-by-play of all three holiday dinners in my household, as they are all identical if you swap a ham for a turkey in December. The predictable behavior that repeats year by year is the tradition in itself. Your play-by-play stars myself, my mother, my father, and my brother. Action! Read the rest of this entry

Gift Giving Intervention

give presents

[This is totally how I look handing over presents. I always keep a blue sky backdrop on my person to create a floating sensation and mystical aura. This way it doesn't matter if your gift is so disappointing that it makes a pair of socks look like diamond earrings.]

Father’s Day is coming up (Sunday, June 17th). You are welcome for the reminder. My goal is to send a gift that actually arrives at my parent’s doorstep on time. Somehow I always seem to butcher timing, only to play it off by cursing the long gooey trail left by snail mail. It never fails. At least I can proudly say that the gifts themselves now always outshine the belated-ness. I am what you would call a recovered bad gift-giver.

I haven’t spoken of my friend Booger in a while, but my road to revival is really all thanks to her. It was Christmas of 2010 when I hit rock bottom. I was graduating college a week or so before the actual holiday, and my whole family was in town to celebrate a little bit of both occasions, including Booger. After the ceremony, we all went back to my apartment to exchange some presents. I don’t remember who went first in the swap-fest, but what happened next lead to a much needed self intervention.

Booger has always been the most creative and thoughtful present giver ever. Ever. So when I began scouring the gift bag she brought for me, I knew I would find nothing but pure gift gold. Everything she has ever given me has been something that I would never find on my own, something I don’t know I need but do, and if it has multiple gift layers, they all correspond and compliment each other better than popcorn and M&Ms. If you have never consumed this combination, I feel sorry for you. Moving on…

First, I drew from the bag a coffee mug that displayed “Crazy Cat Lady” across the side. Funny. Then, a classic black pencil skirt to start my new wardrobe as a working business woman. Practical . Next, a lunch bag and an umbrella. Clever and Cute. There were also a few other equally as enviable items. If there were judges around, they would have given an impressed standing ovation for such perfect delivery. Then, there was my gift to her. Read the rest of this entry

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