Holiday Traditions

Bringing back a classic Snarkfest post for the holidays. Merry Christmas everyone!


Since it's September 25, exactly 3 months away from the Christmas Holidays, I thought I'd share with you one of the traditions we had in my family growing up, especially since it feels like fricking December outside right now. My family was pretty tiny. My parents divorced when I was 7, and when I was 12 my big brother left to go into the Marine Corps. Once he left home, it was just mom and me. Mom did her best to make every holiday special, and Christmas was almost always one of my favorites. But from the time I was 12, I almost always made things pretty easy on my mom. It sort of went like this:

Mom: Here's the Sears catalog, pick out a few things for yourself.
Me: Like, clothes?
Mom: Yes, maybe some outfits and if you see any toys you might want, circle them and we'll see what we can do.
Me: Bitchin!

Ok not really, but the reality of it was, she was a single, working mom, taking care of me, the house, the bills, the laundry, etc. so if Mom needed easy, easy she would get. So I'd follow the tradition of going through the Sears catalog (and on an aside here, does anyone REMEMBER how BIG the Sears catalog was back in the day??? Jesus, you could stand on the Sears catalog and reshingle your roof without the aid of an extension ladder, it was THAT BIG!) But I digress. I'd search the pages and find some pretty tops and some dorky pants (I didn't own my first pair of jeans until I was like, 15. Geek? Party of one? Your pants are ugly). And then I'd flip to the back of the book where the GOLD MINE awaited me. Snoopy snow cone makers!! How effing cool were they??? Barbie three story town house WITH THE WORKING ELEVATOR!?!?!?! Oh my God it was almost to much to take in!!

So getting back to the family tradition, I'd pick out some stuff, Mom would order it, pick it up, wrap it and on Christmas morning I'd open my presents and say "Wow, I love this top! How did you know???" or "Oh Mom I love these pants!! All the dorky 12 year olds will think I'm the shit!" Ok that wasn't actually the tradition. The tradition in my house was, you went to Midnight Mass (which was at 8:00, I think our Monsignor may have had plans at midnight so he always went a bit early) and then came home and you got to open one present. Now, remembering everything you've read up to this point, can anything ever really be a surprise here? Well guess what! You're right, nothing was ever a surprise. Until the one year I went a little nuts and circled a cork board in the Sears catalog. I wanted a Snoopy cork board for my room so I could hang up stuff. Like my posters of Scott Baio and John Stamos (don't judge, Chachi was my world before he was Charles in Charge. Blackie Parrish said goodnight to me every night from my walls and my cork board).  Now the year I picked out the cork board, everything went as planned. Mom and I went to Midnight (8:00) Mass, came home, lit the fire place and I got to go through my presents and pick one to open. Since I knew what almost everything was, it wasn't like I was going to open one and say "Oh my God!!! It's they keys to a DeLoreon!!! How did you know??!!?!?!" But there was this tiny little present on the floor behind all the boxes of tops and dork pants. And when I picked it up, it made a funny sound. "What's this??? I don't recall circling anything this small!" Could it be a surprise??? Could Mom have gone for the two point conversion??? How cool!! I would FINALLY be surprised on Christmas!! Life was going to rock. I was going to open this little noisy box and find a pretty necklace or earrings that I wasn't expecting!

I tore open the pretty wrapping to find...........push pins for my cork board.

Surprise!!!!! Do you LOVE IT?!?!?!!

Merry Christmas!!!

Evil Joy Speaks....to Snarkfest

Hey it’s Teri here from Snarkfest and since I’ve got the perfect face for radio, I’m sitting down for a tell-all interview with my guest, Joy from Evil Joy Speaks. Since this week's Blogger Idol Play-at-Home Link-Up has us interviewing one another, Joy has graciously agreed to come in and have a face to face with me. So how are ya, Joy?

Joy: Fabulous - working on consuming my third can of that sweet nectar of life, Diet

Dew. I’ve got a female spawn doing homework at 5:45 am (because she forgot about it)

in the room with me and a pup asleep on my lap. How are you my dear Teri aka

Snarkfest?

Awesome, Joy, I’m doing great. Thanks for stopping by to see us. Now, the readers of your blog have written in and have a bunch of questions that they’d love to have answered, so are you ready to give your fans what they want?

Joy: Ohhh yaaahhh, you betcha.

Cool, so let’s get started. Oh this first one is interesting because I always say I married

my husband because he’s tall and can reach things on high shelves. Oh and he’s great

at killing bugs too. So how about you, Joy? Why did you marry Dr. Evil?

Joy: Well, I suppose I should say something sweet like he was the perfect boy for me.

But I think since I’m Evil Joy as well as Joy - I’m going with knowing he was smart and

would be able to program my contacts into my cell phone for me.

Gotta love a man who knows his technology. Okay, next question, which Halloween candy do you steal from your ‘Evil Spawn’ and why?

Joy: Oh this is easy. Snickers Bars, followed by other chocolate candy bars, followed

by anything chocolate at all. Then...we’ll move on to the fruity sugary stuff like Skittles.

I always leave them the crap candy.

However this year - I’m not sure what I’m going to do. In previous years we had a dog

Fizzgig aka Smooshie (because I smooshed him with my car) who literally would steal

and eat chocolate with no ill side effects - other than puking all over my house. So...I’d

totally blame the dog if too much candy was gone. He couldn’t speak to point out my

LIE! But now....I’m not sure which dog I’ll blame it on....

I’m totally cool with taking the chocolate and blaming it on my hubby,

much like I blame the dog for any farts that happen to occur when someone else is in

the room with me. Which ties in perfectly with our next question: Do you fart in front of

your spouse? If you do, who gets the blame?

Joy: Nope! I worry it’ll be more of a shart. But evidently I do in my sleep because he

teases me about it. However, he’s the Fart Master in our family followed by Eldest

Female Spawn (age 9).

Where did you come up with your spawns’ names? Was it more fun to name your kids

or your pets? Who do you like to hang out with more? The kids or the pets?

Joy: Let’s see - 1st one - just liked it. 2nd one - 1st one chose it at age 2. We said

‘Baby Sister was born.’ He yelled, “NO Baby Female Spawn was born.”....

Third one - from a movie - if her hair had been red, it would have been slightly different.

Fourth one - we just liked it.

Dogs - more fun because it’s less important. And you get to do it more often as they

typically live longer than the spawn. We’ve had Einstein, Fizzgig, Shadow and now

Burton. Einstein - we’re geeks. Fizzgig - from the Dark Crystal. Shadow from some kid

movie. Burton because we got him and then bought six snowboards and assorted gear,

mainly Burton brand and we liked it.

As far as hanging out - I would say it depends. If the spawn are being annoying - I’ll

take puppy and dog any day. If puppy is sharting all over the carpet, the spawn don’t

seem so bad.

I hear ya. There are days when I can stand the kids more than the dogs. Then there are other days when I’d like to lock the kids in the crate and just chill with the dogs.  I’ve got a cat named Dumbass and that name fits her much better than her given name of Cinnamon. I’ve got a dog named Henry whose name fits him perfectly, he’s a true Henry. His brother is Cosmo, named for the fairy, Cosmo, from the Nickelodeon show The Fairly Oddparents. Cosmo is truly the perfect name for that boy, he loves shiny things and will stare at the wall where there once was something shiny for hours and hours.

Alright, next question: What is the most embarrassing thing you would do to your own

spawn and how much fun would it be?

Joy: I CAN’T WAIT to show the baby pictures to their future dates. Although that scares

me - Dates - yikes. I think it’ll be great to show the ones of them doing silly things like

locking themselves in the dog kennel....yeah yeah...they put themselves in there....

And there’s always the diapered pictures.

That - and I would love to write a book about all the crap they’ve done. ALL they’ve

done. Suckers.....I think they’d behave more if they knew I took notes.

I’m sure they’ll LOVE it when the truth comes out.  Personally I embarrass my own offspring daily by posting the ‘did they or didn’t they make the school bus’ song update. They truly hate it. I make up a song (actually I just take a song and change the lyrics around to indicate whether or not they made the bus) and post it on Facebook each day. 15’s band director was trying to get her to stop talking while out on the marching field last week and he said “Am I going to have to write a song about you?” THAT shut her up quickly.

So I hear that you’re a runner, me too. Now, do you run to work out and be healthy or do

you run just to say that you run and so you can get the damn shirts from the races to

wear in public so people know you run? Personally, I run for the t-shirt and the free beer

at the finish line.

Joy: Dude - I’m allllll about the shirts. Sweatshirts are even better. And the only thing I

like shopping for for myself is running shoes. Healthy smealthy. I like to eat. I run so I

can eat and wear fun ‘free’ shirts - I pay to run - not for the shirts....they’re free - yeah

free. And the beer’s not bad either!

Speaking of beer, what is your beverage of choice? Personally, I dig red wine. In mass

quantities. I know you’re not much of a coffee drinker, which is fine, because that’s more

for me. Because in the morning, without coffee, I could easily take out a school bus full

of handicapped nuns if they look at me the wrong way.

Joy: Let me know if you run low, and I’ll send you a membership to the Coffee Drinker

of the World club so you never ever run out. Without the nuns, I’d be a lost Catholic.

Save the Nuns!!

Without the Diet Dew, the safety of my community is at stake. It is a requirement for

national security and safety. Any diet caffeinated soda pop will work. But when I want

to have fun - I love margaritas. With lots of salt. And if we’re talking beer - it’s got to be

some Blue Moon with my fruit salad of oranges. None of this skinny slice of orange

crap - bring on the SLICES.

LOVE me some Blue Moon! You’ve got great taste in beers, even if you like them all fruity and girly. Now, if you could do anything in the world, anything at all, what would your dream

job be? Doesn’t matter if it’s real or made up. Like, if I could sit in my house and stroke

the soft fuzzy fur of baby bunnies all day and get paid for it, I’m all over it. How about

you?

Joy: We so are soul sisters. Soft furry animals..... I would pilot my own plane and fly

around the world delivering puppies. I’ve always (in real life) wanted to be a pilot. And

since it’s anything at all - I’d own my own plane and landing strip (and gas station). And

what’s more fun than delivering puppies? Seriously!!!?!

That sounds like an awesome job! How about this question: if you could be any cartoon

character, which would you be? If you could get rid of any cartoon character, who would

you off, and why?

Joy: I sort of dig the Road Runner. I like his sounds. Meep Meep! I like that he runs

and outsmarts the other guy. Frequently.

And I’d have to off.....it sounds bad but...Caillou. I CANNOT stand that whiney kid’s

voice. My spawn have all had an affinity for him and man - there is nothing worse than

hearing Caillou before ingesting the sweet nectar of life. He has a bowling ball for a

head and apparently will never grow any hair. WTHeck?

I’ve heard there are tons of people on the Down with Caillou bandwagon. Personally, I’d take out those damn Teletubbies. I’ve hated them since 15 was 2. And if I could be any cartoon character, I’d be Snoopy. I’ve always loved Snoopy and really, who wouldn’t want to nap on top of a doghouse that doubles as a Sopwith Camel??

Ok last and final question, what’s your favorite position?

Joy: Let’s see. I’m freaky flexible so there’s all sorts of possibilities. Dr. Evil enjoys the

calf stretch I do prior to running. I enjoy the ‘runner’s stretch.‘ How about you!?

Oh I’m partial to the downward dog, LOVE stretching out the back and the hammies.

Well folks, that’s all the time we have for Evil Joy but don’t forget to check out her blog, Evil Joy Speaks. She’s awesome and funny and it’s been a pleasure to have her on my show. Joy, have an awesome day!

I've Got Balls!

This week, the folks at Blogger Idol are once again offering the Blogger Idol Week 2 Play-at-Home Link Up. Remember last week, the topic was Family or Holiday Traditions? Well, this week's offering has a little bit of a twist. This week, we are to write about a day in the life.......of the opposite sex. So let's pretend that I woke up with balls this morning. And a penis. This is a day in the life of me, as a man.

Oh my God, I've got balls. I don't know exactly how it happened, but damn if I don't have balls. TWO of them!! NOW I get what all the fuss is about. I can't juggle them, I can't swat them with a club, a bat or a racquet, but I can touch them. As a matter of fact, I'm touching them right now! You know why? BECAUSE I CAN.

Along with the balls comes the penis. Yup, got one of those as well. It's not too big and it's not too small. It's just right, and it's mine. I can get out of bed and start walking towards the bathroom, pull my underwear down, step out of them and leave them lying right there on the floor. Why? Because I've got balls, and that's what we men who have balls do. Naturally, I go in and pee standing up, because that's what we men with balls do too. I check my hairy face in the mirror and think, damn, I'd make an ugly chick but boy, these balls and this facial hair really make me look hot. Girls dig facial hair. So I say screw shaving. This is my day, and nothing was mentioned in the rules that it has to be MY actual life, so for this one day in the life, I'm a dude, with junk, and I'm on my own.

So I'm heading downstairs where my dogs are and they greet me with tails wagging and drool flying. After letting them out, making myself some coffee and letting them back in, I'm going to feed them. Just me and my boys. My boys are fixed, and at this moment in time, I've got more junk than they do. I am the manliest man in all the land! Or at least in my house. They happily chow down on their Dog Chow while I make a manly omelet. Men love omelets and mine has all the meat I could find in the fridge. Ham. Okay maybe it's not the manliest omelet on the planet but it's mine.

I wash my omelet down with a beer. Why? Because I'm a man and that's my right. And because I've finished my coffee and am out of juice. And where do you think I'm leaving my dirty dishes? Damn right, in my sink! I'm so full of testosterone I could wrestle a bear so why in hell would I want to wash a damn dish?

No, what I'm doing is watching football all day. Just me, my boys, my balls and my TV remote. We sit on the couch, them eating Milk Bones and me drinking beer with one hand and fondling my junk in the other. I just want to make sure they're still there. My phone rings around 3:00 in the afternoon and it's a chick. Apparently I was supposed to call her back after I had a date with her. I didn't. I'm a guy, it's a guy thing. I'm just not that into her, but she offers to bring over a pizza so I say sure. Knock yourself out, Susan, er, Sarah, er sorry, Sally. Whatever. Just bring the pizza.

An hour later, the doorbell rings and rouses me from a nap. The dogs look lazily at me from their Milk Bone-induced comas and since they're not making a move to answer the door, it's up to me. I grab a pair of shorts from the living room floor, because that's where I keep my shorts. I do a quick sniff test, find them passable and put them on to answer the door. I'm a dude but I'm not a caveman, give me some credit. I open the door and there is Sus...Sara...Sal... there she is with pizza in one hand and a six pack in the other. Why didn't I like this chick?

We enjoy the rest of the first game and flip over to watch the next game. Turns out she likes one team, I like the other. Awesome. I've been looking for a way to get rid of her anyway, and if she doesn't like my team, I'm pretty much finished with her. What better way to get rid of a clingy chick then to prove just how awesome a man I am? I start farting and blame the dogs. Once the beer is gone, the pizza is eaten and the dogs have gone outside (because man do their asses stink!) I sit there watching her team demolish mine. I ask her to pull my finger and she leaves. What? What'd I do? It was a joke. Chicks just don't dig fart jokes.

Once all the football games are over, my dogs are sleepy and I've got a tired buzz going on. I take off my shorts and leave them, naturally, on the living room floor. I schlepp up the stairs to my bedroom, pee standing up one last time and head to bed. As I drift off to sleep, you know exactly where my hand is. Who knows if I will wake up in the morning with junk, so I need to enjoy it while I've got it.

I could be the next Blogger Idol!

I'm not much on reality shows, especially competitions like Big Brother, So You Think You Can Dance, Thinking about Dancing with an Idol, Dancing with a Brother, or American Idol. Give me a good Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe or Deadliest Catch and I'm the happiest of campers. So why, then, am I actually participating in a competition like Blogger Idol? Well, I'll tell you. It's not televised, no one is judging me, no one is calling me Dawg, Ryan Seacrest is NOWHERE to be found, and it's free publicity for my blog. And you know my mantra, if it's free, it's for me. So go checkout the voting at Blogger Idol and who knows? Maybe I'll get a few more readers out of the deal. Maybe I'll get a prize. But I blog anyway, right? I may as well try to get a little something out of my blog besides carpal tunnel syndrome. The prizes are very cool ranging from a Samsung Galaxy Tab to Boogie Wipes.

Don't spill my secret but I'm actually hoping for first runner up. Come on, you know me, I'm addicted to chocolate and the prize for first runner up is a Ghirardelli Chocolate gift basket. You should be applauding me for not having an over-inflated ego. Do I think I'm an awesome enough blogger to win the Tablet? Nah. But I just might be mediocre enough to win the Chocolate. And that's good enough for me.

So, auditions are open now and will close on September 17th. The top 12 finalists will be chosen on September 20th. If I'm in the top 12 (remember, it's ALL about the chocolate and I DO share) I will be tasked with an assignment, and all assignments will be voted upon starting on September 26. Please stay tuned for more details, and don't forget to visit my Facebook page and my Twitter page.

When the voting begins, there's chocolate for everyone. Because that's how I roll. Now spread the word please.