So December. We Meet Again...

You just got here. You can't even take off your coat first before dumping white shite all over us? What the ef?!? What? Did your little boyfriend, Fall run off with the hot chick at the end of the bar Thanksgiving night when you were in the bathroom barfing up the sushi and six martinis you devoured leaving you stranded holding your hair out of your chunk-covered face?

Boo frickin' Hoo! Get over yourself. Four solid months of this crap ain't gonna fly. Have a Xanax with your gin and take a nap. Sheesh!

Crazy Bee-yatch.

To Chia Or Not To Chia
or getting all presidential on your cheesy, gift-giving ass

Okay, so the other day I was at Big Mar's desperately attempting to stave off a food coma when that ever-so-familiar jingle broke through my overindulger-induced fog.


Ch- Ch- Ch- Chia!


That's right. Nothing signals the start of the holiday melee like a barrage of commercials for that ubiquitous holiday kitch gift, the Chia Pet. There's nothing unusual about the televised assault of clay animals and their green manes. It's expected. In fact, I believe the absence of these ads on the airwaves might just initiate the end of days. Wouldn't that be a ginormous kick in the nut sack if the salvation of humanity lies in the existence of an innocent looking clay ram with goofy-ass grass wool. We all better pray there's an onslaught of Chia commercials broadcasting in 2012, or else the Mayans will have won.


But I digress...


What jolted me from my hypoglycemic haze wasn't the irritating earworm jingle, but the offering. This year you can plant not one, but three Presidents AND ... Lady Liberty with actual glowing lamp!! I'm not even kidding. You can choose from Il Duce numero uno, George or Honest-to-goodness Abester or No Drama Obama.

P.S.: since when is Lady Liberty-with or without a green mop top-considered an American (Hello, she's French.) or even a person for that matter?

I can get behind Georgie and Abe, although I think they totally missed the boat by not giving him a chia beard, or was that Mary Todd? Hey-Oooo! (Get it? Some think he was gay and MT was his beard...No? Okay it's just me). I think it's funny as hell, but there's just something that ain't right about our current Prez immortalized in rough, unglazed clay, sporting a day-glo fro.

But wait!! There's more! Like all things American, you have a choice. You can choose either Happy pose Obama (you know, the idealistic, can't we all just get along, Yes we Can!, pre-election Barak) 

or determined pose ("WTF was I thinking trying to fix this shithole, Good Gawd I need a drink, I picked the wrong year to stop sniffing glue") Obama. 

Plus on Amazon you can also throw in a Clinton "Hey-my-penis-is-a-Corkscrew!" for one low price. Sweet!

Yes We Can!!


Of course the biggest question I have scrolling down the Amazon this search page for Chia Obama is how the Hell does a book titled "How to Live With a Huge Penis" end up in this grouping and why only as item #7?

Say what?!?


And you can look inside, too! Go ahead. You know you want to. I double dog dare you. It's right here.


I used to have a chia pet long ago. Never was very good about keeping it watered. My l'il critter was more of a Mexican hairless than woolly ewe, so don't waste your hard-earned dough-re-me buying me one. It will just end up being regifted, probably to you, then your feelings will get all hurt because I didn't treasure your little piece of shit afterthought gift even though you'll pretend to laugh and think it's funny, but we both know things will get awkward and you'll die a little inside. 


If it was a Rhett Miller Chia, hmmmmm. No who am I kidding. I still wouldn't water it and you'd still secretly hate me. 


Now the Clinton corkscrew on the other hand... That's gold, Jerry! Gold!