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More gifts!

…for this sweet beer stein and these Pike Place Market stickers that they brought back from Vancouver and Seattle (respectively) for us.

The stickers are already on my suitcase,


The REAL final chapter!

This collection of horrible emails from horrible human beings that Cards Against Humanity published is the real end of their “Ten Days or Whatever of Kwanzaa.”

It made me laugh… and realize that humanity is doomed,


…we had a Kermit the Frog washcloth we’d use whenever we took a bath.

If you had asked me two days ago what ever happened to it, I would’ve told you our mom probably threw it out or donated it to the Goodwill after we moved away from home. It’s definitely safe to say I hadn’t seen it in nearly two decades.

Last night, Beth gave (what’s left of) it to me as a belated/framed birthday gift.

Oh, the bathtub memories!

It will proudly hang in the bathroom of our new apartment,


Seriously, go fuck yourself.

…but considering “Adam” put a fake phone number down on the note he left on the windshield of our car, he can go fuck himself.

Well played, jackass.

People are awful,


Back when I was living in Columbus, Ohio my friends and I started a quote wall. Whenever a bit of brilliance (or otherwise) poured out of someone’s mouth, somebody would yell “Quote!” thus nominating it for Quote Board status. The quote then had to be seconded by someone (it almost always was), and then it would be written down to be forever immortalized on the Quote Board.

This is the modern day equivalent of that classic piece of my past.


“Not everyone is regularly lifting up their dog’s lips.”

– Mr. Fabulous’ Vet, 12/30/14

This quote isn’t necessarily relevant because of its hilarity, but because it adds yet another layer to this age-old argument.

I rest my case,


PS: His comment was in regards to this.

With Nutella!

Holy crepe,


These memories are SO 2014.

On to the next jar,


Miracle berries!

…with a few packets of “miracle berries” (Synsepalum dulcificum)…

They rock your taste buds!

…that alter the way your taste buds work, causing sour foods to taste sweet.

My own private island!

Also, I now apparently own a square foot of property on a private island (called Hawaii 2) located in St. George Lake, Maine. If anyone ever wants to stay on my square foot of land just let me know. I’ll email you the exact coordinates.

Thanks again to Erik and Robyn for this awesomely odd gift!

Off to eat some raw lemons,


Calling Mr. Judson Titsworth!

My Grandpa Hi-Guy used to call me Jutsin,


He killed it!

…Uncle Bob!

Congrats! You win nothing!

He totally called it in the comments section a year ago,


Old Poop!