Her Ace in the Hole

...rarely relevant, sometimes cheeky, almost honest.

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Gifts That Keep on Giving

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A few things to say about gifts.

I love giving gifts.  I love giving funny gifts.  I love giving heartfelt gifts.  Gifting is great.

If I had all the money in the world, I would be out shopping for gifts and beautiful wrapping paper and bows and I would gift all my friends the most fantabulous things.  But I don’t have all the money in the world, so generally they don’t get shit.  I’m erratic that way.  But sometimes – and very randomly, that is – I will surprise a friend with a birthday gift that is at least six weeks late.

Speaking of gifts, DAVE won the “hotbox” contest from last week.  He will be receiving a gift of my choice in the mail very soon.  I am mulling over prize ideas for him as we speak and I’m hoping he will be very excited about it.  Because who wouldn’t be excited about leopard thong underwear, a whip, and some laxatives??

Here is one of my favorite gifts from the past year or so:

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You have to love this flask, because a) it’s funny, b) it’s very distinctly yours and your sticky-fingered friends can’t walk off with it at concerts, and c) you can put booze in it and take it to PTA meetings.  Didn’t you know that all the PTA moms in Utah show up to meetings with their flasks?  That and their Xanax.  UTAH ROCKS.

Thank you, Brigette.

 

 

Photo Bombs

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It seems that on Fridays I’ve been posting a video from YouTube, so in order not to disappoint any of us here is my favorite from this morning.

It’s pretty damn funny.

You have to watch it a couple of times to really catch all the epic “fails” in the photos.

This reminded me of a great photo of my own from about six years ago.  Beatty saw it and inquired,

“Who is that guy in the back??”

I told him, “I don’t know, Beatty. Just some random guy at a bar that jumped in our picture.”

Then he said very emphatically at least five times, “I DON’T LIKE HIM!”

Beatty doesn’t like failures.

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Personally, I think the best part of the picture is that I’m trying to fondle my friend Jean’s breast.  Because that’s what I do.

 

PS – will someone start sending me a reminder on Thursdays to NOT go out and drink beer with my girlfriends?  4 beers + baby waking up crying at 3am = HANGOVER.

I can’t handle hangovers these days.  I’m not in college anymore.

 

We’re Mysterious Like That

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A text conversation between me and my friend Stacia today.  I apologize if I’m the only person in the world who finds this hilarious:

**DISCLAIMER:  Dad, stop reading now.  Thank you.**

ME:  Guess what?  I’m getting boobies next week!  I’m not fucking kidding.  You will have to come over and lay in bed with me and we can smoke pot while I recover.

STACIA:  Awesome!  I was just talking about getting boobies last weekend!

ME:  Ha ha ha!  Mine are gonna be awesome.  Like DDD’s.

STACIA:  Fuck yeah!!

ME:  We should get boobies together!!  A boobie party!!

STACIA:  We can chant “boobies boobies boobies!” in our percocet-induced haze!

ME:  Would you be mad if I post this conversation??  Cause that shit is funny.  Titties rock.

STACIA:   Dude!!!  You post that shit right now muthafucka!!!

ME:  You’ve been around Snoop Dogg a lot this weekend.  I can tell.  You’re a skeezer.  And a ho.  I’m totally going to Coachella next year with you.  And I’m gonna bitch slap Paris Hilton.  With one of my huge knockers.

STACIA:  Dude!!!  For fucking sure!