Monday, November 28, 2011

Thanksgiving Hangover

[Note: Hey guys, I tweet now! Look me up yo. There should be a button around -----> somewhere]

So, my last post was kind of weird, huh? Was it too much too soon? You know, kind of like when you’re with someone in bed and all of a sudden they bring out the gerbil or the DIY chainsaw sex toy and you’re like, “Whoa whoa whoa bud, too much too soon.” What I’m trying to say is, I hope my blog doesn’t rape you. The only person I enjoy sexually assaulting is Boyfriend. And, I'm not gonna lie, this post is pretty offensive as well. I hope your sarcasm radar is working well.

Anyhoo, I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving, with too much eating and drinking and fighting with relatives and reliving flashbacks where you accidentally spent some alone time with creepy uncle that your mom told you NEVER to spend alone time with. (HOLY SHIT I am inappropriate this morning.)

I went home to hang out with my parents, sister, and uncle’s family on Thanksgiving. (Not that uncle.) (I didn’t actually have an uncle like that.) (Is that one of those things that you can only joke about if you’ve been victimized by it? I’d hate to be insensitive.)(And now we’ve gone into an even weirder place).

Tomorrow, I’m going to go over some very important lessons I had to teach my family regarding appropriate wine consumption. Today, however, I will summarize the entire day through the some of the text messaging between Boyfriend and I.

Me: I’m soo tiired. How’s your turkey cooking?
Boyfriend: Eating later so haven’t put it in yet.
Me: Don’t put it in a deep fryer. That can cause fires. William Shatner told me. [<---- this is good advice. F’realsies].

A few minutes later:
Me: My mom said she got red wine but she meant a big bottle of white zinfandel. At liquor store now.
Boyfriend: How’s the trailer? [Boyfriend likes to tease that we’re low-class Italians and should have our own reality show. FTR, I did not grow up in a trailer. Not that there's anything wrong with trailers. But we have nice things, damnit!!]
Me: My mom tried to put the red in the fridge and everyone is putting ice in their wine. I give up.

Later in the day, after company left
Me: How’s it going?
Boyfriend: Food baby.
Me: Mine is named Carli (yes, with an i).

Me: Sis is insisting on sitting right next to me so I can’t draw for the blog and she’s making me watch Ellen with the cast of Twilight on. [That really happened. I swear. She's almost 28.]
Boyfriend: That sounds fun for a 12 year old. Blog fodder [oh, how right you are!]
Me: Whew. She left. Finally got some alone time.

A minute later
Me: NM. My mom came down and sat in that exact same spot next to me. [Don’t get me wrong.  I love my mom. But my soul was breaking right about here]
Boyfriend: You can show her the Thanksgiving picture of me. [I'll show you it in a minute, dear reader(s).]
Me: It has the F word on it, dear. The F word!!!
Boyfriend: Is that bad?
Me: Super bad. Even the Bible says so. Or the Pope. Or something. [Side note: I was guilted into went to Church this weekend. At one point we prayed for "People with cancer or AIDS." AIDS? Seriously? What, is it 1985 again and no one told me? Or is that just the church's way of praying for the gays? PS in case you're wondering, I'm allowed to be this critical of the church because I'm technically Catholic. So there.]
Boyfriend: Fuck all that shit.
Me: Whoa whoa whoa throwing the sh bomb in there too? Even Gropey the Priest won’t go that far. [Again, this joke is okay because I'm Catholic]
Boyfriend: The Pope can suck my balls.
Me:  Hey he was a member of the Hitler youth. Maybe he’s an x man too! [Side note: Boyfriend and I watched X-Men First Class the night before]
Boyfriend: Is sucking my balls his super power?
Me: …maybe?

So yeah, those are the main points. Like I said, I’ll vent more about wine tomorrow. Oh, how was Boyfriend’s Thanksgiving, you ask? Well, I drew this:

So, there’s that.


  1. I'm not the best barometer of offensiveness, but I can imagine intimating that the Pope's secret mutant power is tea-bagging, might be construed as offensive to some. Hilarious to others.
    Wait, by saying you're pregnant with a Thanksgiving baby, does that imply that you're going to give birth by pooping? Are you going to have a Thanksgiving poop baby!?! Now I'm offended.

  2. Don't be silly pickleope. Girls don't poo.

  3. Where can I purchase one of those aprons? Not only is it purple, but it will tell people to give me my favorite whiskey drink!

    Also, ice does not go into Wine! Under and circumstances.... at all..... ever....... Stop looking at that ice!

  4. Maybe it's this big screen LCD monitor I'm working on, but until you click on boyfriend's picture to make him look bigger, it looks like it says 'Give the cock whiskey.'

    Which, in itself, is a great punchline.

  5. That last post was as hilarious as it was wrong...a recurring pattern, your signature move.

  6. You must stop your sister's obsession with Twilight now, for her sake, for all of our sakes.

    And keep making Catholic jokes, I enjoy them more than I should. :P

  7. "The pope can suck my balls" made me laugh a little harder than it should've.

    Great post as usual, Gia. Yous da funniest.

  8. Well I came back for more, but then again I'm a sick little freak so I wouldn't put too much merit on the fact that I came back.

    Your moms should be committed for alcohol abuse.

  9. Mrs Cranface talks about food babies as well. I didn't realise it was a global phenomenon, I thought she was the only one who birthed them.

    They are the most delicious type of baby though.

  10. No offense here. At our family Thanksgiving I hit the Jello shooters within minutes of arriving, added pain pills and a couple of beers over the course of the event and went home relatively (ha!) unscathed.