Christmas Tradish...

In case you were wondering - yes, my entire family is awesome. 

My family has a few Christmas traditions. Some of them new. Some of them old. Among them, the family photo. How do you get your family to make themselves up like zombies for Christmas? You spend many years wearing them down with odd requests. Eventually they give up and just say okay to pretty much all of your ridiculous crap brilliant ideas. 

We also open two presents on Christmas Eve - an ornament and pajamas. Then we don said pajamas and listen to Dad read of Jesus' Birth from the Bible. For some strange reason, the phrase "sore afraid" gets us giggly every year.  And, perhaps the most obvious of traditions, I watch E.T. on Christmas Eve. 

I hope you had a Christmas as Merry as mine. What sort of Christmas traditions do you have?

It's (almost) Friday, I'm In Love

I was chatting with my pal Kacey (of KaceysKitchen and Where in the World is Kacey) about the end of the world when she brought Mr. Tilapia, a man keeping 1,000 Tilapia in his swimming pool in Phoenix so that he'll have food when a massive solar flare knocks civilization back to the Stone Age, to my attention. I had the same reaction I'm sure all of you just had. I fell in love. 

Kacey feigned concern for (1) my emotional well-being seeing as how I didn't handle my last break-up, with a steak, like a champ and (2) my budget - so much fish food. But I know she was just jelly imagining my future as Mrs. Tilapia, co-founder of The Big Top Fish Circus. (Don't worry Kacey, you can totally be the clownfish wrangler when we make the Pomacentridae expansion. Or eat fish and live in a prison surrounded by zombies with my Mr. and me if the world really ends.)

Mr. Tilapia, my Honey Lamb, did not divulge his real name or address. Obviously he didn't want to be bombarded with proposals from all the single ladies. Here's hoping he'll Google himself and find his way to this post/me. Love transcends and junk, right? 

P.S. Mr. T., my sunshine, I'm going to need you to move to Florida. Arizona is too dry. Bring  prickly pear margaritas. I'll bring...it. Unless of course it's already been broughten.*

*My vocabulary sponsored by Bring It On 76: Who'da Thunk We'd Make This Many Movies About Cheerleaders Without the Aid of Wes Craven).

U-G-L-Y, I ain't got no alibi...

Just in case you forgot how much of a winner I am, I have already won two ugly Christmas sweater contests and it's only December 12th.  If there is one thing in this world that I am good at, it is ugly. 

The first win came at a Cookie Swap/Ugly Sweater Party. I went for sweet old lady chic. It was a velvet pants and layered sequin/sweater vest situation. First place! The second win came at a Dirty Santa Gift Exchange/Mayan Ugly Sweater Party. This time I went for Aztec Rap Sensation - velvet track suit, sundial bling bling and a hieroglyphic neck tatt. Second Place/First Loser!  I got beat by a grown man in a woman's teddy-bear sweater. If I'm going to take second in anything, it best be behind a grown man in a lady bear sweater. 

What have you been up to this Christmas season?

P.S. I made these cookies for the cookie swap (as seen on Kacey'sKitchen.com). They amaze people.

Also, this may have happened inside my Dirty Santa gift:

I'll show you mine...

Confession: I LOVE Christmas decor. The more glitter, the better. If I get within three feet of my tree, I should be so sparkly that I can cover Trixie's shift at Babes while she buys cocaine runs holiday errands. I will be disappointed if I do not poop glitter for the first three months of 2013. Are you following me on this? Glitter. 

I also love seeing everyone else's Christmas decor. I want to see yours and I want to see it now. I'll show you mine and you leave a comment pointing me to where I can see yours. Deal? 

I planned to put up zero Christmas trees this year as putting them up is a lot of work and taking them down is the worst thing ever in the whole wide world. This is exactly how taking down Christmas decor goes for me (except Janeane Garofalo looks way more like a cat):

Touché Tuesday Advice Column: Boyhood

Need some Whitfield Awesome advice (about anything)? Fill out this form.   

Warning: The following question was submitted by someone trying to be funny or shocking or thirteen. But it takes more than the "m" word  to get a rise (you'll soon see what I did there) out of me. You should know that this post is rated PG-13. Don't blame me if your eight-year-old reads over your shoulder.

Dear Jen,
My arms are sore. Is it possible I could be masturbating too much?
Strokingly, Peter

Dear Peter,
Insufficient data, Pete. How am I to know if masturbation is the cause of your sore arms if I do not know things like what else you do with your arms or how often you ride solo? For all I know, you are a furniture mover and only self assess once a week. Maybe you wrestle actual gators on the regular and only wrestle your gator on Tuesday and Thursday. Or maybe all you do is sit in your room at your mom's house enabling socks to stand unassisted. I just don't know.

It is natural to be curious about your body. And you are probably far more interested in it that anyone else will ever be anyway. Just remember, all things should be practiced in moderation. 

Try talking to you father or family doctor or Jason Biggs. Probably not your P.E. coach though. 

♥ Jen

P.S. Remember, shaking it three times counts.