You Love The Movie "Grease" Day

You Love The Movie "Grease" Day!

Today, you should tell everyone how much you love the movie "Grease" so that they all think that you were raped by a relative when you were young. Just go on and on about how many times you've watched the movie, about which C-list stars were your favorites in the revived play, making it clear that you've returned to the play at the announcement of every cast change. Your coworkers will pass word around the office that everyone deal a bit more gently with you since you are clearly an incest survivor who has chosen to bury the memory under the heavy blanket of your postured love for the movie "Grease." Your friends will hate themselves for not having seen the obvious emotional scars of abuse sooner and they will stage an intervention for you later this evening. They'll try to convince you that you only think you love the movie "Grease," but in reality you were probably whored out by your mom to her brothers and you've been trying to forget. They'll present to you some scientific studies that make it clear how nine time out of ten, an expressed love for the movie "Grease" is really just a way of saying, "It all got taken away from me the night my Mom went into the hospital with food poisoning and I was left alone with Uncle Pete."

Happy You Love The Movie "Grease" Day!

A Hooker Named Mistletoe Day

A Hooker Named Mistletoe Day!

"The way it works is, I come over and stand on a tall stool. You and your wife come and stand next to the stool. I arch myself over the two of you and you kiss. And whatever else you like. $200 an hour."

You've been stumped for what to get your wife this Christmas. The idea came to you when you were masturbating into the back of your free weekly and you saw Mistletoe's ad.

"I've been out of the game for a while, but there's no way for us to catch a disease from you by having you in our house, right?"

Mistletoe will tell you that unless she catches a cold or the Mumps, it should be cool.

"Mumps, huh?"

Think about it.

"What's the Mumps like?"

Mistletoe will tell you that as far as she knows, it's sucky.

"Hmm."

Think about it. Your wife has complained that your gifts aren't very inventive, and inviting a prostitute to hover on a stool over the two of you would certainly impress her. She also complains that you're too careful with her in bed, and that she wishes you'd be more reckless.

"Can I check my wife's medical history and get back to you?"

Mistletoe will say, "I'm booking up fast."

Say, "Fuck it. Come over on Christmas morning and hover over us while we screw. I have a birthmark on my penis."

Mistletoe will ask, "Why'd you tell me that?"

Explain, "I just don't like to surprise girls with it. In case you feared I had a disease. My wife was very understanding. She even said it turned her on. It's how I knew she was the one."

"She's gonna like her present," Mistletoe will tell you.

"Thanks Mistletoe," say to her. "And please don't slit our throats."

Mistletoe will hang up without responding.

Happy A Hooker Named Mistletoe Day!

Send The Mayor A Necklace Day

Send The Mayor A Necklace Day!

Include a note that says, "Mr Mayor. I can't get you out of my mind. Ever since you revamped the infrastructure. It's like we are just one person split in two, trying to find each other and rejoin that body that was intended. Enclosed is a necklace. It cost me $57 dollars, all the money I could steal from my husband. Wear it to your next press conference, and I'll know you feel the same.

Love,

Millicent Rhodes (Taxpayer)"

If at the next press conference the mayor does not wear your necklace, he's a naughty little tease who likes to be chased.

Happy Send The Mayor A Necklace Day!

Morning Breath Day

Morning Breath Day!

Everyone calls you Morning Breath because your breath smells horrible. You've tried to use breath spray and mints but it doesn't help. You've changed your diet. You've even changed your soap and shampoo just in case it's been affecting your body chemistry somehow. No dice.

Tonight you have a big date and just like all of your big dates, it's not going to go well if she thinks your terrible breath is caused only by you being disgusting. You're going to have to tell her that you're dying.

"I have an intestinal disease," say. "That's why my saliva smells so bad."

She'll say, "I'm sorry."

Ask her if she'd like to be your girlfriend until you die. "I only have six months. You can be in love with me, then you can mourn me for a really long time after that and no one will blame you for skipping out on parties or being late for work because they'll assume you were crying."

She'll say, "Sounds good. I'm in. I'm gonna love you to the end."

Rock! You're gonna have a girlfriend who is cool with your breathing stinking like old milk because she thinks you won't live that long, and who will love you as passionately as someone who thinks time is running out. And when you don't die in six months, all she'll be able to assume is that you recovered and she'll have to be happy for you. So it'll be like another three months after that before she decides that she can't be around someone who stinks so bad if he isn't dying. That's nine whole months of girlfriend, baby. You're stinking pretty tonight!

Happy Morning Breath Day!

Be A Poker Ace Day

Be A Poker Ace Day!

If you become a Poker Ace, no one will say things like, "You have a gambling addiction and you need to get help" anymore. Poker Aces are nothing but gambling addicts who win all the time, so start winning all the time. People will look up to you as a Poker Ace because they'll know that you always have $80,000 in cash on your person. And no one will mind anymore that you're supremely unattractive because Poker Aces always are. It's what gives them their drive to win so much of other people's money. Ask any Poker Ace why they do it, and they'll say that they're angry at God for making them look that way, so they decided to get back at him by taking all the money God saw fit to let other people have.

So go back downstairs to the tables and start to win every single hand. You have to win $250,000 in one night in order to become a Poker Ace, and you have to not care about a dime of it. Also, you're not allowed to send any back to your wife and daughter. It's not the Poker Ace's way. And finally, you're going to have to die in the near future from a gunshot to the temple. You're welcome to pull the trigger, or you can just wait for someone else to do it. When you're a Poker Ace, you can bet that someone surely will.

Happy Be A Poker Ace Day!

Homeowner Day

Homeowner Day!

Though you are a homeowner, you are not allowed to shoot trespassing children unless they pose a credible threat to your person or your family. So when little Marty climbs the wall of your yard to retrieve a ball, provoke him.

Point your shotgun at him and say, "You wouldn't have to be staring down the barrels of this here gun if you learned how to catch, girl-arm."

Marty will say, "You're right, I don't know how to catch. Can I stay here with you? When I go back to the game they're all just gonna make fun of me."

You'll be confused because you've been an angry old man ever since your wife Georgia died. It's been a long time since anyone asked to keep your company. "What'll we do?" ask him.

Marty will shrug his shoulders. "Got anything to teach me?"

Say, "Do you know how to make Hollandaise sauce?"

Marty will shake his head no. Then he'll toss the ball over the fence to his friends and come running to your side.

In the kitchen, you'll show Marty how to make your special Hollandaise sauce. "Put this on a couple poached eggs and you'll feel like you deserve a little bit more than most people. Which you don't. It's important for a boy your age to learn that you aren't special. Almost as important as it is that you learn to make a good Hollandaise. Keep stirring."

Marty will stir the Hollandaise sauce and tell you about how his father and grandfather don't talk.

"I don't talk to my son neither, the little bastard."

Marty will ask if you'll be his grandpa. Since his Dad won't let him have one.

Say, "I need to confess something first. When I came out there in the yard earlier with my shotgun, I really wanted to shoot you. Shoot you dead. I was hoping you might throw that ball at me so I could say I'd been attacked and open fire. If you can live with your grandpa doing something like that, sure. I'll be your grandpa, kid."

Marty will hug your legs. Give him a check for five dollars.

Happy Homeowner Day!

Naked Pictures Your Ex-Girlfriend Took Day

Naked Pictures Your Ex-Girlfriend Took Day!

Apparently your ex-girlfriend got a little drunk last night and posted some naked pictures of you on the internet. It wasn't malicious. You and she are still in touch, and you've even met her husband and 2-year old son. She was with some friends and they were all admiring the naked photographs of you and it was decided in their drunken state that it would be the right thing if the photos were put up on the internet.

"They were actually kind of angry with me that I hadn't shown them the pictures earlier," your ex told you when she called this morning. "They felt that I had been selfish because naked pictures of you are so pleasing to the eye. My friends said that in order to make amends for my selfish behavior, I must share the photos with the world immediately."

"I understand," you said.

"You're getting a lot of hits," she said. "I posted your email address next to the photos so that people can write to you."

"Thank you," you said.

When you get to your computer you'll find your inbox flooded with several thousand emails from people who have seen the naked photographs of you and wanted to make contact with you for one reason or another. Most of the emails are simply complimentary. "Congratulations on the excellent naked photographs," they read. Others are more passionate.

"I've left my husband. I'm coming to your city. Tell me where to find you so I won't have to track you down, which will cost money. I'm broke."

And then there were of course a great deal of emails from people who were made angry or who were offended by the photographs. "You are clearly attempting to portray a Godlike physique in these photographs, but there is only one God. There are many sinners. I intend to rid the Earth of just one. You."

You were afraid of this kind of thing. But you let your ex take the photographs anyway. Many times you had the opportunity to destroy them, but you didn't. Perhaps you wanted to see just what would happen.

There's some racket outside. Go to the window and watch a crowd of your admirers clash with a crowd of people who came out to kidnap you and burn you in a public park. Each group is several hundred people strong. Many are about to die. All because you look so motherfucking hot when you drop your pants for a Polaroid.

Happy Naked Pictures Your Ex-Girlfriend Took Day!

Your Chauffer Knows Where There Are Hookers Day

Your Chauffer Knows Where There Are Hookers Day!

"You are very lucky to have me as your limousine chauffer for the evening," Hector told you when you began your drive from the airport. "I know where there are hookers."

You told him that you just wanted to get to your hotel so that you can get some sleep and then wake up bright and early to reconcile with your daughter after all these years. He seemed hurt.

"But…don't you want to know where there are hookers?" he pouted.

You said, "Okay Hector. Show me where there are hookers."

The first place he took you was an underpass.

"See?" he said. There were indeed hookers for as far as the eye could see.

"That's great," you said. "But you know, it is an underpass. Everyone knows that the hookers live underneath the underpass."

Hector said, "You are very brilliant. I will take you someplace where you never would have guessed you would find a hooker."

Hector took you to 378 Oak Tree Lane. He knocked on the door and an old woman answered. Hector told her, "He wants to see the hooker."

She led the two of you quietly up the stairs to a bedroom where a 20-year-old woman was napping. She looked quite pretty.

"My daughter," the old woman whispered.

"A hooker too, yes?" Hector asked excitedly.

The old woman nodded. Then closed the door softly.

Back in the car, Hector said, "Impressed?"

"Yes Hector, I never would have guessed there was a hooker in there. Can I go to my hotel now?"

Hector said he wanted to take you to one more place where there are hookers. The place he took you to was a Stop N Shop.

"There," he said, pointing at the supermarket.

"Hookers are here?" you asked. "Which aisle?"

Hector didn't like your joke. He peeled out of the parking lot and started speeding down the highway.

"I'm sorry Hector. It was just…"

"The hookers are in the back of the store inside the loading dock! But you do not deserve to know where there are hookers!" Hector said. "You deserve to be tied to a wall and carved open while you are still alive."

That's what Hector's doing to you right now. It's awful, and you'll die soon. Just a day before you were finally going to pull your daughter back into your life.

Happy Your Chauffer Knows Where There Are Hookers Day!

Your Prized Caroler Is Pregnant Day

Your Prized Caroler Is Pregnant Day!

19-year-old Stacey is showing. You haven't seen her all year and you didn't know about this until just now when you all gathered for cocoa at Rafe's. You told Stacey that you don't think it looks right, singing about the lord and about family cheer and whatnot when everyone in town knows that she isn't married. Maybe she should sit this year out, you suggested.

The others objected that without Stacey they just didn't have what it takes. She's the angel on our tree, they said. She's the nose on Rudolph, they added. She's the pipe in Frosty's mouth, they belabored.

"Besides," Stacey said. "It's Christmas, the one time of year when everyone claims to believe in a virgin birth. Tell them I'm just another carrier of the heavenly seed."

Well you certainly had no plans of telling anyone anything like that. But it was clear that Stacey wasn't going to bow out of the season's greetings, so you bucked up and decided to captain your troupe of carolers with the leadership they expect from you. You and your fellow carolers would bring song unto your neighbors.

Things will go fine tonight, until you get to Jake Henning's house. Jake will open the door while you're singing "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." He'll slam it in your faces when Stacey pushes her way to the front step and bellows up at him, "Glory to THE NEWBORN KING!!!" You'll all leave the Hennings' house, but Stacey will stay and scream the complete song at the house while Jake draws all the curtains and turns off the downstairs lights.

She'll catch up to you after she tosses a snowball through the glass pane of Jake's bedroom window. None of you will say much about it, but it'll be pretty clear that Jake's the father of Stacey's baby. Jake and his wife have already got two kids so what he'd want with another one nobody thought it was a good idea to ask.

Happy Your Prized Caroler Is Pregnant Day!

Embark On A Magical Journey That You'll Never Forget Day

Embark On A Magical Journey That You'll Never Forget Day!

Most people believe that in order for a journey to be magical, you have to go into the woods with an adult who is shorter than four feet tall as a companion. These people are creepy and they're trying to lure you into a rural underbelly where adults who are shorter than four feet tall are paid to fistfight children to the death.

Your magical journey will begin when you least expect it. Such as when a horse-drawn sleigh approaches from the darkness and the old sleigh driver tells you that though you are just a schoolboy, you are the last hope for saving the forgotten country of Mostanzipan, a gleaming land of hope and good that rests in the dark cliffs of Metuchen, New Jersey.

You will tell the sleigh driver, "I won't fistfight midgets."

The sleigh driver will pass this information back to the cloaked figures sitting side by side in the sleigh. The cloaked figures will confer, then they will nod to the sleigh driver, who will say to you, "Never mind then." And the sleigh will rattle off down the road until it disappears into the black horizon.

Once the sleigh is gone and the street is still, you'll and wonder about the journey you passed up. Then you'll be thrown into a van and driven to a television studio where you'll be told you've been picked to be a contestant on a new reality show called, "Scavenger Hunt," and the prize is one million dollars.

Happy Embark On A Magical Journey That You'll Never Forget Day!

Your Religion Sucks Ass Day

Your Religion Sucks Ass Day!

You drive past other houses of worship and you hear nothing but rocking music pumping through the walls and you see nothing but hot puss waiting to get in. Some houses of worship even have flags. Flags! Of their very own!

But you just keep on driving to your tired old house of worship where all the chairs are comfortable and lived in and everyone prays with a contented sigh. Sure it's comforting and it's cozy, but goddammit you didn't latch onto a faith to get put to sleep. You started believing because you were sick of the grind and you wanted a little action. A little pop and flash. Better drugs. Bigger appetizer servings. Chicks who know two languages. What's the point of recognizing God if not to get your hands on some recently updated Star Maps?

You came into your religion late in the game, and everyone's always reminiscing about how awesome it used to be before the 1640s. You can't help but feel like you showed up long after a scene has been played out. Your religion seems to survive solely so that congregants can get together every once in a while to remember when they were kickass. Well why not jump ship and go find the religion where the congregants don't have time to reminisce because they're too busy talking smack on trivia night? Remember, we're all pretty much praying to the same big cheese. Why not pray in the pew that's wired with PS2 game controllers.

Take the plunge. Go Greek Orthodox. You know what they say: "Once you go Greek Ortho, you'll be stoneder than shit."

Happy Your Religion Sucks Ass Day!

Strike Gold Day

Strike Gold Day!

You're extremely wealthy and you've just bought some homes from some poor people for far less than they were worth. The poor people took the offer because they didn't know any better and they were unaware that the sum you offered would not buy them a rotted out shack by the highway in today's market. But you wanted to open up a Harmful Chemicals Plant on the plot of land where their houses were, so you swindled them into near-homelessness.

Today you're going to level their homes and discover that the dirt is chock full of gold. All of those poor people could have been millionaires had they just dug a few feet under their basements and saw the glitter. Instead, they're all renting small apartments.

Now that you own the land, the gold is yours. While it is worth hundreds of millions all told, you really won't notice the addition to your assets and it will actually cause some problems for you come tax time.

Happy Strike Gold Day!

Take Your Stockboy To Lunch And Give Him Some Advice Day

Take Your Stockboy To Lunch And Give Him Some Advice Day!

You were just like him at his age, pounding the pavement and knocking on shop windows looking for some way to make some soda pop money. He works hard and he keeps his fingernails clean. As best you can tell, he don't steal from the register neither. He's a good kid. Take him out for a hamburger and tell him the three things he needs to know:

"All waterfront hookers got knives in their purses."

He'll write it down on that little pad he uses to take notes on inventory.

"Everyone says that if you hang yourself from a belt and beat off, the orgasm is the best you'll ever have. They're wrong. The orgasm is just okay. And it's not worth the risk."

He'll write – "Belt myth. Not worth the risk."

"There's no room for pride in love. You find yourself in love, you hand it all over. Your money, your car, government secrets. No one's gonna blame you for doing what it takes to hang onto the only thing keeping us going. We're all gonna die. Might as well die with someone caring a damn about you."

He'll ask you to repeat what you said starting with "your car," but slower.

Happy Take Your Stockboy To Lunch And Give Him Some Advice Day!

Send A Naked Photograph Of Yourself To Your Parents Day

Send A Naked Photograph Of Yourself To Your Parents Day!

Include a note that reads: "Mom and Dad, here's what I look like when I'm naked these days. I figured you'd be kicking it soon and I didn't want you to die wondering. As you can see, no tattoos (Note: If you have tattoos, don't write this.) I never liked tattoos and I think anyone who has them is stupid. (Note: Again, the previous sentence should be left out of your letter if you have any noticeable tattoos.) It's like, 'Hey look at me. I'm so retarded that I got something stupid drawn on my body for permanent.' (Note: It will be confusing, is why you should leave out the parts about the tattoos if you have them. Your parents will wonder why you think they don't see your tattoos.) I'd die a lot sooner than you would if I had a tattoo. Because I'd kill myself for being so stupid. (Note: Sigh.) Anyway, Mom and Dad, I don't make as much money as I'd like to make and I blame you. You raised me to make less. By the way, my dick isn't even really hard in that picture. It's always that big. That's default. (Note: If you don't have a dick, don't write this.) Love, [Your name]."

If you want the letter to be extra special, write all of the above in blood.

Happy Send A Naked Photograph Of Yourself To Your Parents Day!

Welcome Back, Shooter Day

Welcome Back, Shooter Day!

Your visit to the Grand Canyon won't go as planned. This will be apparent from the minute you sidle up to the information desk and the teenage girl behind the counter looks at your face and says, "Nice to see you again Shooter. You back to see if you can fill that canyon to the rim with innocent baby's blood?"

Tell the girl your name and ask her whether there was any space left at any of the campgrounds where you could hitch your trailer. She'll suggest that you just put a bullet in whoever might be occupying the hitch you're looking for.

"Wouldn't expect nothing less from you, Shooter," she'll say.

Again, tell her your name and say that she must have you mistaken for someone else.

When you walk out to your trailer, the girl will follow. She'll put her fingers to her lips and release a loud whistle. The other tour guides and park rangers will turn at the sound and when they spot you they'll all go pale and warn the younger children to get back inside their cars.

When you get back into the trailer explain to your wife that everyone at the Grand Canyon thinks you're someone named Shooter.

"Who's Shooter?" one of your kids will say.

"Sounds like he's a kid-killer honey. Sounds like the staff around here have been waiting a pretty long time for some payback. Load my Glock will you sweetie?"

Your wife will ask you if she can expect some shit this evening. "We gonna have to plug some poor dumb citizens?" she'll say.

Tell her that unless they can get it in their head that you're not the Shooter they're looking for, unless they can leave you and your family alone to enjoy the majesty of the Grand Canyon, then yes, every last one of them is gonna have to die.

Your wife will kiss your cheek because she's been looking for some action ever since Nebraska.

Happy Welcome Back, Shooter Day!

Fill Your Apartment From Floor To Ceiling With Piles Of Newspapers Day

Fill Your Apartment From Floor To Ceiling With Piles Of Newspapers Day!

If you fill your apartment with piles of newspapers from floor to ceiling, any boy you bring home will look at all the newspapers and shout, "Wow! You probably have every newspaper ever printed for the last ten years in here!"

Say, "I try to collect them all. But sometimes I end up in the hospital for a while." Then offer a nightcap.

The boy will say, "I bet if I wanted to find out what the big news story was on April 9th, 1997, I'd be able to root through the pile and see for myself."

Tell him that he probably could but it would take a while to find the right paper. "I tried to order them according to how far off the weather report was from the actual weather, but the degrees of difference did not vary as much as I thought. So then I started separating them into piles of when Ziggy talked or when he was just reading a funny sign. But that doesn't make a particular issue easy to find."

The boy will say, "I could move in and put them in order for you. By date even. Should take me four years."

Say okay. Then pee into a saucepan.

"We have to pee into buckets and saucepans and empty them out the window," tell the boy. "I took the toilet out to make room for more newspapers."

The boy will nod.

"Can you turn around?" ask him. "I'm shy."

The boy will turn around. Continue peeing into your saucepan, then go and make love to your new live-in boyfriend on a pile of Ziggy's-Just-Reading-A-Funny-Sign.

Happy Fill Your Apartment From Floor To Ceiling With Piles Of Newspapers Day!

Communicate To Somebody That A Crime Is Taking Place Using Only Pantomime Day

Communicate To Somebody That A Crime Is Taking Place Using Only Pantomime Day!

Today, when you are walking through the parking lot of a bar you've never patronized before, you'll spy someone trying to break into a car by jamming a coat hanger into the windowframe of the driver's side door. Since you've never alerted someone to a crime in progress before, make it especially memorable by using only pantomime.

Just run inside to the bartender and wave your hands hysterically to bring him to your end of the bar.

"What's the problem, Bub?" he'll ask.

Point to the front door. Remember to keep your eyes wide the whole time to make it clear that you're very excited about something and everyone who's trying to read your wacky gestures should be very excited too.

"Something going on outside?" the bartender will ask.

Move your fists in front of you like you're driving a car.

"Something to do with a car?" he'll ask.

You're doing good so far. But now you have to figure out how to portray a thief. Try looking suspiciously over your shoulders, then grab a wad of bills off the bar and put them in your pocket.

The bartender will say, "I saw that. Put that money back."

Shake your head no to make it clear that you are only pretending to steal the money for the purpose of what you're trying to get across to him.

"Don't tell me no. Put the money back, son. Think you can distract me with some story about someone driving a car just so you can grab twelve bucks off my bartop? Dummy or no dummy you're taking that money outta your pocket."

The bartender will be holding onto the end of a baseball bat. Put the money back on the bar.

"That's better," the bartender will say. "Now hightail it outta here."

Shake your head no with those scared wide eyes again. Point at the door.

"Now what?"

Make the driving motion.

"Driving," the bartender will say. "Got it."

Now you've got to make it clear that a crime is being committed. If you can't come up with a good one for thievery, try murder. Point a fake gun at someone, then pretend to be that someone with his hands up. Then pretend to get shot.

The bartender will shout, "My God, someone's getting killed out there!" He'll grab his bat and call two of his customers to come with him. After a few minutes, they'll come back in.

"Ain't no one trying to kill nobody out there. Only thing that we saw was some fool trying to break into Daryl's car. You tried to distract me again so you could cop some cash, didn't you dummy?"

It's time to start talking because they're going to get pretty mean if you don't make with an explanation fast.

"No, I wasn't," say. "It was the car thief I was trying to tell you about."

One of the customers will shout, "Son of a bitch ain't even mute!" They'll all grab you and shake you upside down until your wallet falls out. Someone will empty your wallet. The people shaking you will lose their grip and drop you on your head. You'll fall unconscious.

One of the patrons will agree to take you home with him and tend to your wound. While you're asleep, he'll touch your privates and pleasure himself.

Happy Communicate To Somebody That A Crime Is Taking Place Using Only Pantomime Day!

Win The Racist Races Day!

Win The Racist Races Day!

Every year your hate group holds a day of track and field events to raise money towards keeping Mexicans out. The big day is today it's time to do whatever it takes to get that trophy back from your nemesis, Grand Wizard Lightning Toes.

Grand Wizard Lightning Toes' real name is Grand Wizard George Normandy. But when it was discovered just how fast he could run, all of his minions decided that he deserved a nickname because Grand Wizard George Normandy didn't make it sound like he was a very fast racist. Some people objected that the name Grand Wizard Lightning Toes sounded like an Indian name, and Indians are brown. But everyone agreed that in this case the paranoia surrounding such things could yield to the necessity of getting the word out to all the other hate groups in town that their Grand Wizard was the fastest pure-blood European descendant ever to set fire to a big cross then run away.

But you know something about Grand Wizard Lightning Toes that probably no one else knows. Grand Wizard Lightning Toes is allergic to mustard powder. This morning you're going to slip into the kitchen at Ma Hatred's Breakfast Nook and drop just a spoonful into her biscuit batter. Grand Wizard Lightning Toes is a braggart and he loves to announce that he can run just as fast with three biscuits in his belly. Once he takes a bite of Ma Hatred's delicious buttermilk biscuits, he'll die. Then you can head over to the field grounds and win that race fair and square.

Happy Win The Racist Races Day!

You Found Twelve Buttons of Mescaline In Your Son's Underwear Drawer Day

You Found Twelve Buttons of Mescaline In Your Son's Underwear Drawer Day!

"Tell me you're not using these," you'll say. "Please tell me you're just dealing."

Your son will tell you to stop being a square.

"What were you doing in my underwear drawer anyway, pervboy?"

Tell him you were just checking to see if he'd updated his sissy little diary yet.

"Wanna read about my action because you're not getting any yourself, that right?" he'll say.

Hit him. He'll hit back but it won't hurt.

Say, "Look, I just think we should have a talk about hallucinogens. They don't make you funnier or more attractive the way cocaine does."

Your son will say that he was just holding them for a friend.

"You think I'm going to fall for that?" ask him.

Your son will say that you got no choice and if you try to confiscate them his friend will demand that he pay for or replace the buttons or else.

"You want to see me on crutches? Go ahead and flush them."

Tell him he's hanging around with the wrong crowd and he should never hold or deal for anybody who isn't giving him a strong piece of the supply.

"5 to 8 percent," say. Then tell him you're leaving town for a few days on business and he'll have to figure out how to eat and get to school on his own.

"I got it covered," your son will say. "I love you Dad."

Hold your son in your arms.

Happy You Found Twelve Buttons of Mescaline In Your Son's Underwear Drawer Day!

Gayfaces Day!

Gayfaces Day!

Your boss is going to come to your desk this morning and wait for you to finish taking an appointment for him. You'll let the phone call linger longer than it needs to because you hate it when he stands by your desk and waits. When you finally hang up he'll say,

"Let's make gayfaces at each other."

"Gayfaces?" you'll say.

"Gayfaces. Like this." Your boss will make the face of a man who's just learned that the woman he thought was his mother was actually his father's second wife, and that she had conspired with his father to murder his natural mother.

"Oh," you'll say. "You mean like this?" Make the face of a woman who has nowhere to sleep tonight, just like last night.

"No! Gayfaces!" he'll shout. "Like this!" Your boss will make the face of Ramo, the grafitti artist who got electrocuted on the third rail of the subway in Beat Street. Except he'll make the face Ramo would have made if he was watching a magic show.

"Oh," you'll say. "I get it. Like this." Make a face like you're trying to fart but can't.

Your boss will say, "Forget it."

Say, "Wait I think I got it." Then dig your fingers into your cheeks and scratch four bloody wounds down each side of your face. Dig deep enough that the blood will flow fast and drip from your chin and onto your desk.

Your boss will say, "You suck at making gayfaces."

Just then Kevin from accounting will approach your boss. They'll make gayfaces at each other and you'll realize what you were doing wrong.

Your boss will say about Kevin, "Now that's a gayface."

Say, "I understand. I'll pack my things."

Empty your desk into a box and go.

Happy Gayfaces Day!