1. Every feel like your office is like The Office? But not in the having an affair with the cute coworker way but more like…

well,

yeah.

2. For some reason the candidates don’t want to talk to BlogHer’s 7.6 million female readers but hey, a couple of them have offered up their spouses. I will only take that offer from Senator Clinton.

3.This email came via the MIL (who I like) in, sadly, a non-ironic way, via some dipshit or another that I don’t know, but evidently shares genetic material with Nate somehow.

This is too true to be very funny

The next time you hear a politician use the word “billion” in a casual manner, think about whether you want the “politicians” spending
YOUR tax money. A billion is a difficult number to comprehend [blah blah stupid f*ckity blahblahblah]

A. A billion seconds ago it was 1959.

[B-D blah blah blah not clever enough to reprint blah…]

E. A billion dollars ago was only 8 hours and
20 minutes, at the rate our government is spending it.

While this thought is still fresh in our brain, let’s take a look at New Orleans. It’s amazing what you can learn with some simple division…Louisiana Senator, Mary Landrieu (D), is presently asking the Congress for $250 BILLION [sic] to rebuild New Orleans. Interesting number, what does it mean?

A. Well, if you are one of 484,674 residents of New Orleans (every man, woman, child), you each get $516,528.

B. Or, if you have one of the 188,251 homes in New Orleans , your home gets $1,329,787. [NB: 204,400 homes alone were destroyed in Katrina so no clue where this number comes from.]

C. Or, if you are a family of four, your family gets $2,066,012.

Washington, D.C .. HELLO!!! … Are all your calculators broken??

And then it goes on to rant about taxes, inflicted on hardworking ‘mericans by (presumably) God-hating, family-hating, ‘merica-hating, tax-and-homosexual loving Democrats.

Now here is where I look at the idiots who forward on a piece of crap like this on and refuse to be diplomatic.

I honestly can’t believe that there are morons so devoid of critical thinking skills that they think, “Yeah! New Orleans! They suck!” instead of, “Hm, maybe that money will be used to rebuild schools and hospitals and infrastructure; used to reconstruct the destroyed wetlands and um, the levees; used to bring back culture and education and shops and senior centers and not actually HANDED OUT TO THE RESIDENTS IN CASH.”

Cash which, clearly, will be spent on boozin’ and whorin’.

How do people this stupid manage to survive from one day to the next? Aren’t they the ones who end up memorialized in the annual Darwin awards, done in when they try to clean out their chimneys with grenades or work under their pick-ups using Schlitz cans for car jacks? Or is that just my own wishful thinking.

The only thing more infuriating than that email is how one of these asshat’s votes cancels out mine next November.

4. When I got the Babble daily email highlighting a post called “The Grinch: Why I Won’t Let My Child Believe in Santa” I was prepared to hate it. Really hate it. Of course it was set up to be provocatively snarky but in truth it was a thoughtful, smart essay by Shasha Brown-Worsham about growing up scared of Santa and trying to understand the line between innocent childhood mythology and outright lies. Worth a read.

As for me, I’m all about the guy in the red suit.

I’ve been having the best time fudging the Santa story with Thalia, who is sharper than she should be at 2 1/2. I see eyeing me suspiciously as I describe Santa bringing presents, all while I’m wrapping them myself.

Can he just be the guy who fills her stockings while mommy gets credit for the stick horse and kitchen set? The guy who keeps track of her wish lists? Or is that not enough work to earn all the cookies we have to make for him (unless we set out the ones Erin is hopefully sending us).

And of course, it’s hard to explain the whole chimney aspect when you live in an apartment building. Maybe he comes down the trash chute?

Have you played fast and loose with the Santa stories? Or are you by the book with your childhood lies?