Read More http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/smitten/2012/11/28-reasons-thanksgiving-is-the.html#ixzz2Cm52u8AB
Mostly witty, smartass observations, or attempts at it.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Why Thanksgiving Is the Least Sexy Holiday
According to Glamour magazine:
Overcrowded airline travel.
Screaming babies on overcrowded airline travel.
Screaming babies at your grandma’s house.
The hangover you’re nursing after Thanksgiving Eve, the all important night of judging your old high school friends at the local bar.
Being stuck in traffic.
The huge fight you get in whilst stuck in traffic.
Your mother.
His mother.
Your drunk aunt who can’t stop asking when you two are getting married already.
His drunk uncle with a wandering eye and penchant for dirty jokes.
Voluntarily sticking your hand into a turkey’s cavity.
Accidentally sticking your hand on a hot pan.
Or jamming a knife in your finger while slicing sweet potatoes.
Political, religious or assorted family drama at the dinner table.
Your sister's three loud kids who spill everything, everywhere. Loudly.
Turkey coma.
Tofurkey coma, if you’re vegetarian.
Pumpkin pie moustache (OK, that's not a real thing but it could be).
The way you both unbutton your jeans to make room for seconds.
Painful indigestion for the rest of the night.
Washing 4,000 dirty dishes and grimy pots.
The hideous sweater he wore because his mom bought it for him.
The matching footie pajamas your mom bought for the whole family to sleep in.
Separate rooms when you’re under your parents roof.
The fear of overhearing your parents having sex.
The possibility of running into your high school boyfriend while sporting sweats, gravy stains and a greasy ponytail on Black Friday.
The possibility that your mom will find out that you made out with said high school boyfriend on Thanksgiving Eve
Leftover turkey coma, Day 2.
Read More http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/smitten/2012/11/28-reasons-thanksgiving-is-the.html#ixzz2Cm52u8AB
Read More http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/smitten/2012/11/28-reasons-thanksgiving-is-the.html#ixzz2Cm52u8AB
Monday, November 12, 2012
Vacuum Blews
A question for Dear Prudence:
Q. I Caught My Son With the Vacuum Cleaner: I came home early from work on Friday to the unexpected sound of the vacuum cleaner running in my 12-year-old son's room. Thinking that perhaps this was a sign of the apocalypse—my son cleaning his room without major nagging on my part—I burst in there and caught him with his pants down and the hose attachment attached to his, well, you know. He froze like a deer in the headlights and, after picking my jaw up off the floor, I mumbled something stupid like "excuse me" and turned around and walked out and hid in my room. He left to go to his dad's for the weekend shortly thereafter. He will be home tomorrow night after school and I don't know what to say to him. Actually, do I have to say anything to him or can I just act as though this never happened and not say anything about it at all? (I much prefer option two, by the way.) What do you think?
A: I am sincerely hoping the Dyson company doesn't see your letter and come up with a new line of vacuums guaranteed to suck the living daylights out of the user. First, you may want to pick up a copy of Portnoy's Complaint. Let's just say the liver scene should reassure you that young men have always been creative when it comes to relief. Normally, I agree with you, Mom, that backing away quickly is the right path to take when stumbling upon such an uplifting scene. But I'm actually worried about the amount of suction your son could be applying to his private parts and the potential for gunking up the machine's filter.
Q. I Caught My Son With the Vacuum Cleaner: I came home early from work on Friday to the unexpected sound of the vacuum cleaner running in my 12-year-old son's room. Thinking that perhaps this was a sign of the apocalypse—my son cleaning his room without major nagging on my part—I burst in there and caught him with his pants down and the hose attachment attached to his, well, you know. He froze like a deer in the headlights and, after picking my jaw up off the floor, I mumbled something stupid like "excuse me" and turned around and walked out and hid in my room. He left to go to his dad's for the weekend shortly thereafter. He will be home tomorrow night after school and I don't know what to say to him. Actually, do I have to say anything to him or can I just act as though this never happened and not say anything about it at all? (I much prefer option two, by the way.) What do you think?
A: I am sincerely hoping the Dyson company doesn't see your letter and come up with a new line of vacuums guaranteed to suck the living daylights out of the user. First, you may want to pick up a copy of Portnoy's Complaint. Let's just say the liver scene should reassure you that young men have always been creative when it comes to relief. Normally, I agree with you, Mom, that backing away quickly is the right path to take when stumbling upon such an uplifting scene. But I'm actually worried about the amount of suction your son could be applying to his private parts and the potential for gunking up the machine's filter.
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