I’m totally gonna stick my dick in the mashed potatoes tonight.

Happy New Year Queefs and Queefettes!

Party at our house tonight! You’re all invited, but you can’t stay until midnight. I haven’t made it till midnight on New Years Eve in 6 years and I’m not about to start now. I’ve done the bars and the parties and the dressing up all fancy and all that New Year’s-y crap and now, going to sleep at a reasonable hour and not waking up hating life on the first day of the new year is sort of a thing I do ever since I kissed my 20’s goodbye.

It’s kind of a tradition.

Also, I don’t really care about New Year’s.

Nobody gives you a present on New Year’s, but they should. The stuff from Christmas is old now.

Amiright?

So yeah. Come on over.

I’m gonna stick my dick in the mashed potatoes.

Nobody was maimed, poisoned, or killed. You should look at these pictures or whatever.

On Christmas eve, my mother came over to take care of Homeslice so I could get the pot roast and the  scalloped  potatoes and the cinnamon rolls and the fruit salad ready while Girlfriend went sledding with Mister, her Auntie Cya, my brother, and her cousin, Diesel.  It was pretty much a banner day for Girlfriend.  I thought her head was going to explode.  My brother’s certainly did.  Nice hat, dude. ( he borrowed it from Mister, it was a gift from Cya.  It all comes full circle…)

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That’s Diesel right there.  He’s like a nephew to me.  He goes everywhere my brother does.  I think he sometimes goes out on dates, too.

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I’m pretty sure his Plenty of Fish thing says “must love dogs.”  He doesn’t mean it that way, you dirty birds.  At least, I don’t think so.  You never know with my brother.

Santa brought Homeslice this cube thing.  It has all sorts of stuff on it, and she loves it, but I don’t know what Santa was thinking because Homeslice specifically asked for a wet nurse and a nanny.

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So far, we haven’t been able to find a nipple on the thing, but it keeps her pretty busy, so I guess it’s sort of like a nanny. Except it doesn’t change diapers or, like, move or anything.

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And Girlfriend got a My Little Pony bike.  And two My Little Pony dolls and a My Little Pony book.  It was a very pony Christmas, obviously.  This is the best picture I have of the bike.  Sorry.  It’s Mister and his “art” or whatever.

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I would like to post my official complaint to Santa that there was no bike under the tree for ME.  I’ve been asking for one for years, Santa.  I don’t know why you’re being a douche.

I’VE BEEN A GOOD GIRL TOO, YOU FAT FUCK!

My mother looked awesome.  Mister says my mother is the reason why he married me.  They may be having an affair.

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Meh.

Keep it in the family, that’s what I say.

Santa brought Alice a humiliating collar and she moped all day because I made her put it on, it looks like Girlfriend is about to sniff Diesel’s ass, and I don’t think we need to discuss the bunny ears, do we?

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I didn’t think so.  Oh, and that’s my brother’s lady friend.  They didn’t really wear matching sweaters.  It just looks like they did.

And after Christmas was over and most of the family went home, Girlfriend and Auntie built a puzzle together.

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And then Robert Duvall came over for a kegger.

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So yes.  It was a good old fashioned Christmas around here where people who may or may not have sex with their dogs go sledding and we built puzzles and my mom and my husband exchanged secret presents (probably) and then celebrities come over and have a few beers.

I’m still feeling pretty wiped out though.

You?

OMG! OLIVIA is dead TOO! What is happening?

Why does everyone die at Christmas?  My grandmother died at Christmas two years ago.  And now Olivia is dead too! I can’t say I ever really felt a connection to Olivia,  I was more of a Maria or a Mr. Hooper kind of girl, but she taught millions of us little childrens all kinds of  important stuff.

I’m not talking about this Olivia, btw:

She’s not real and therefore, cannot die.  At least, I don’t think she can die.  Anything is possible, I guess.

I’m talking about this one, for those of you lazy so-and-sos who didn’t click the link:

So yes.  Olivia.  RIP.  Nobody is talking about it because her death isn’t sexy like Brittany Murphy’s.  I hate the fucking media.  I really do.

Dicks.

Olivia contributed way more to the world, I dare say.

Anywho, thank you guys so much for all the wonderful recipes yesterday!  You’re all so helpful, and it took you forever to type all that in! You saved me from having to sit here searching the Internet.  It came to me! YAY!!!

I think I might go with a pot roast for the meat thing as suggested by k8 because it can be done in my crock pot and not take up my oven.  That sounds smart because what usually happens is I wind up with everyone fighting over oven space to heat up/bake the shit they brought and it always turns into a game of who the fuck are you using my daughter’s/son’s/brother’s oven where my mother’s green bean casserole and my mother-in-law’s potatoes volley for space with my sister-in-law’s thing and it’s a big. giant. clusterfuck.

And then I drink some wine and hide in the garage with a smoky treat.

I don’t give a fuck if the casserole is cold from being in the car, goddammit.

Don’t make me kill you.