“Did you hear that it’s Movember?”
“Oh, I’m not drinking because it’s Dry January.”
People who say these things should have their faces washed in hot gravel.
No one needs this. I don’t need this. But as part of society, I cannot escape these brain damaged fucktards who have lives so shallow and empty that they need to “participate” in a theme.
You want themes?
You gutless, soulless, trendy shitbags?
Good, then sit down in your safe space, pull up a beanbag chair, sip on your shitty coffee, and listen up.
January
“Get The Fuck Away from Me”
The holiday season is over, and now I have a mountain of bills to pay. I am hungover, lethargic, and swollen with half digested food. My children have shown not a goddamn ounce of appreciation for the mountain of gifts bestowed upon them. So just get away. Go stick your fucking head in a cement mixer.
February
“I Just Bought You Christmas Gifts.”
In Catholic school you got your throats blessed in February. (Yes, you can insert any dirty priest molester joke you want.) They crossed two candles over your throat to keep you from getting sick, and the feast day was for Saint Blaise. (Could they have come up with a gayer name?)
Anyway, Valentine’s Day can fuck itself. If you’re married for 187 years like I am, you do this dance:
“Do you want anything for Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Fozz?”
“No.”
That means yes. I put it off to the last minute, buy a card and a bag of Andy Capp’s Hot Fries, a quart bottle of Mickey’s Big Mouth. And she gets fucking twisted.
So, fuck this month. It’s cold, grey, and contains a holiday that needs to be lined up and shot.
March
“I Will Fight You in a Bar”
St. Patrick’s Day eats shit. Fucking amateurs in the bar puking up green beer and wearing idiotic t-shirts. Sorority girls screaming and taking selfies and blowing guys in the bathroom.
And Ireland is a piece of shit. I mean, yes we love the fucking accent, but what else does it produce? Alcoholics, car bombings, potatoes, bad teeth, wool sweaters that smell like goats and dried vomit, and fuck all else. Go back to your decrepit island and fuck a sheep.
April
“JESUS IS MORE THAN CANDY AND EGGS!”
As long as I can remember I have dedicated a part of my heart and soul to hating Easter. It’s stupid and dull and the weather is nastier than the Shroud of Turin. Being a Catholic, I was forced to go to Easter Vigil Mass.
I’d rather get a massage from Stephen A. Smith.
It’s three fucking hours of boring, mindless shit. Then there are the newcomers – why convert to this religion confounds me – who are getting baptized and making their confirmations.
Hocus pocus voodoo shit.
When my sisters and I were in our twenties, after one vigil mass, we went out AND GOT BLIND FACED SHITBOMBED FUCKING DRUNK. Showed up the next day at my mom’s and I puked outside in the bushes.
May
“I’m Drunk on a Boat!”
Memorial Day is about fat, pale, pigs who slop their bodies all over a beach or pool. They bring their crotch fruit to run around unwatched so they can piss and shit in the pool.
Then you have to go to a cookout, and if there is anyone there under 30, they bring god awful beer that sits in your gut like a fucking anvil.
There’s also the fact that the kids will be home from school – and they are as unwanted as a bag of roaches shoved up your ass.
Seriously, this is the bone season for me. The summer stretches out like No Man’s Land – full of bloated corpses, shattered meat, and gigantic craters that can drown a man.
June
“No, Let’s Not Get Married.”
Sitting and watching two dolts commit the worst mistake of their lives is sad. And I have to buy them some useless piece of shit they’ll never use.
Do you know that one of the turds at our wedding gave us an olive dish?
An olive dish is a foot long, ceramic tray about one inch wide with a trench where you put . . .olives. There is only one thing I want to do with that – shove it up the butt of the asshole who gave it to me.
I can seriously claim that in 20 years I have never driven home from a wedding. Once, out of pure spite, I drank doubles of Old Turkey the entire evening because I hated the couple getting married. Next day, I wanted to die.
July
“LOVE THIS COUNTRY OR I EAT YOUR GUTS!”
First, I do love my country. It gave my family a chance. A chance to get called dirty, greasy, ignorant wops. Seriously, I still love it. But let’s be honest, America has all of the glamor and promise of a boil on a dog’s ass.
The patriotic fervor is soul crushing. “TATTOO AN AMERICAN FLAG ON YOUR EYEBALLS YOU COMMIE!”
Political parties use this celebration to drag each other through the septic tank. I propose shoving each of them down the barrel of the guns on the USS Missouri and firing them point blank into the Grand Canyon.
August
“There is Mulligan Stew in my Underwear”
Maryland is awful in August. The humidity makes you feel like there are jellyfish draped over your body. Everyone is hot and there is no respite. No one wants to celebrate a fucking thing.
In the event you have an idea for a celebration, shove a metal spike up your nose.
September
“I’m Leaving You at School”
Does anyone else want to drive nails into the eyes, ears, nose, and throats of these corporate America advertising pukes who consistently batter you with nonsensical fucking messaging?
It’s Back to School! GET BACK TO SCHOOL! BUY THIS $80 BACKPACK OR YOUR KIDS WILL BE SHOVED INTO LOCKERS!
This month is a whirlpool of shit because everyone is getting back on their schedule, and the kids are miserable, and then people start gushing about fall and crisp air and sweaters.
No, it’s still 89 degrees at 2 in the morning. We live in hell. Shove an LL Bean Catalog sideways up your ass.
October
“I’m a Witch. No! I’m a Jedi!”
I like Halloween, but then the rest of humanity trundles along and shits candy corn all over it. First, there’s the goddamn PC police telling us what we can and can’t wear because someone will get offended. Eat a dick.
Then we get all of the crap about Columbus Day. I am a full blooded Italian-American, and we as a group get a day to celebrate our Italianess, but we have to hear all of this shit about how Columbus was a murderer. Okay, he was. What explorer wasn’t?
The general public misses the entire point of this holiday, and that’s for us to feel proud about our accomplishments, and look back on who was here before us, and why we are where we are today. Plus, eat pasta and drink wine.
When I see statues of Columbus torn down, I want to go after these people like a wolverine on PCP.
Back to Halloween – adults who have kids – if you are dressing up and going trick or treating with them, I am taking your name and ID and going immediately to the website that lists child molesters and sex offenders.
You have a kid. You’re too old to dress like a Jedi. Grow up and fuck off.
November
“Kill or Be Killed Around the Cranberry Sauce”
I used to love Thanksgiving as a kid. It was the prelude to Christmas, except my parents weren’t about to tear each other’s arms off. Traditional dinner, but you had to have ravioli. (I hate ravioli.) There was football and my grandfather huffing down filter less Camel cigarettes, crushing Budweiser, and being an all-around, Olympic caliber asshole. Ah, memories.
Now, people have “Friendsgiving” and “WhiteGuiltGiving” and “Vegangiving.” I am going to invite all of these dingleberries over for “BeatYouWithaSackofRocksgiving.”
Don’t fuck with tradition. We all know that history isn’t true. But for one day can we stuff ourselves to bursting, revel in the crushing of bodies on the field, and realize why we truly hate certain family members?
December
“Brawling Around the Christmas Tree”
One of my favorite Christmas memories does not involve gifts.
I was about 10 and my mother was downstairs cooking, and it was a mild night so I had my window open and my electric candle turned on. I heard her go outside, probably to prevent herself from losing her mind, and one of our neighbors was out walking her dog. They spoke for a while, smoking cigarettes, and it just made me feel good. Safe. Secure. Hopeful.
Anyway, the Yule Tide season is a heaping load of rotted fish guts. My wife and I marked the season with full on cage-match style brawls over whose family we were spending the holidays. Ugly. My mother-in-law set the stage about 19 years ago because I seemed “depressed” when I was at their house and “I really ruined the day.” Thanks, you fucking toad.
Fast forward and now I have my own group of junkyard dogs (otherwise known as my sons). They have completely destroyed a few Christmas mornings, sending my wife into hysterics and me right to the bottle at 9 in the morning.
Overspending, overeating, and never ending commotion aren’t fucking shepherds in the desert getting the shit scared out of them by a bunch of vengeful angels.
Fuck the shit out of this holiday – I’d rather take the money and buy a motorcycle, smoke meth, and lay waste to a small town in Wichita.
There’s your 12 months. Don’t like it? I am all out of fucks to give. If anything offended you, I am not sorry. In the end, every day has the appeal of being stuck in a closet with Peter King, Skip Bayless, and Donald Trump. (I would pay good money to watch Bayless undergo a spinal tap that ends with his paralysis.)
I forgot Lent. It’s fucking dumb. I’m not giving up shit. in fact i’m doing MORE harmful shit. like throw a brick at a neighbor, or shit in their mailbox.
Spot on, although I’m lucky enough to have some pretty awesome grandparents that told the awful portions of the family to fuck off well before I was born, so I enjoyed some small, semi-traditional holidays that were pretty damn awesome.
August in Maryland though, that is 100%, stepping outside is like hitting a hot, soggy wall. It’s legitimately worse than Singapore. I’m pretty sure it’s what the heat death of the universe feels like.
I think at this point, our troubled nation needs Jon Lovitz to bring back his “Tommy Flanagan, pathological liar” character as George Santos.
If he didn’t do it for Trump…
Lovitz went on some rant during the Obama years about taxes. Not sure if he ended up going MAGA, and am afraid to look.
That was a weird bunch over at SNL then, politically
To be fair, I heard an interview with Lovitz at the time, and it seemed like standard issue “whaddaya mean, only the rich are getting their taxes raised? I only make half a million a year, that’s not rich!” But I don’t know if that was the start of a road to wingnuttery.
Victoria Jackson’s the only full-on nut from that cast that I can think of. Dennis Miller turned GOP after 9/11, and then I think it was just audience capture from then on — he became a “conservative comedian” and still can’t figure out how to break out of that.
His attempts to put Trump in a good light are so cringey. From what I’ve listened to it amounts to, ‘he makes liberals upset’ which is so pathetic.
Hawaiian spice burgers, pan fried sweet potatoes with fresh rosemary, grilled asparagus in butter/garlic/salt.
My afternoon is gonna be good. I don’t even care that it is snowing right now, it ain’t gonna stick and I’m still gonna be out there grilling and drinking beer.
https://www.alohaspice.com/
For all your Hawaiian spice needs. I lived around the corner from this shop, been using their spices ever since.
Folks, I am excited to eat my approximate weight in Senorita Weaselo’s black sesame tang yuan tonight. (Basically think of mochi, but with black sesame, peanut, and coconut filling.)
Does she make the marbled ones? They are so pretty!
No, she’s still working on how to get all the proportions and fillings down pat before getting fancy with it. (The secret is cooling the filling before you work it into balls!)
I really hope there isn’t already filling when you eat her tang.
Well, a lot of astronauts ate it already
Hey, that backpack costs $80 because it doubles as a plate carrier
Also a bullet proof vest
I have weights to lift and robots to watch destroy each other.
My biggest pet peeves:
No Nut November
Dry January
Giving up something for Lent
Life is fucking hard enough. Depriving yourself of good things doesn’t make it any better.
Agree. The years take away enough… gonna ride hard and fully enjoy all that is left.
I had never heard of that n-cubed thing, and even my prudish WASP ass thinks that’s silly.
I never gave up anything that mattered. The kids in school would be all ” I’m giving up chocolate, or watching Dark Shadows!” and I’d be “I’m giving up leprosy!”
Me too!!
I wasn’t smart enough to give up leprosy, but I always gave up things I didn’t do anyways.
Before 15, I gave up driving.
Before 18, I gave up voting.
Before 21, I didn’t give up drinking.
Gotta be realistic…
“I’m giving up homework.” Then you ducked because there was an eraser inbound, hurled by a scrawny, unbelievably angry nun.
One year my friend gave up playing bridge for Lent. As we were lucky to scrape up four players at the best of times, this really screwed me over and I felt it was quite un-Christian of him.
I celebrated No Nut November by getting a vasectomy!
Yeah, about that…
– WCS
I have TWO matching olive dishes (one for green, one for black) because I am FANCY AS FUCK!!!
Fine dining right there folks.
In Indiana those are known as “personal gravy funnels” and everyone carries one around in a hip holster. Some residents carry a backup piece in an ankle holster, but everyone knows it’s just for show – no more than a fashion accessory, really – as there’s no way they could possibly reach it.
LIKE A LADY
How can you tell which is which?
I wrote green on the back of one, and black on the other, duh! Then I get confused when I’m filling them up and turn them over to make sure I’m doing it right, and then the olives fall out and I have to start all over again!
We have two of those (all white, not fancy colored like yours) and we just use them as placeholders for spoons and ladles while we’re cooking.
Had no idea they were for olives…
– Riley Cooper’s note to his realtor regarding what he looks for in a neighborhood
“That’s a lot of martinis but I’m up for it!”
-Britt Reid
Look at Mr. Fancy Pants here that has a boat to get drunk on in May!
The rest of us landlubbers get drunk on dry land like God intended!
I don’t own a boat. It’s easier to set a pile of money on fire and burn a politician in effigy.
I thought you said October was the month for being proud of your accomplishments.
Round of predictions? I shall start:
AFC Shempionship – Chefs v Bills Mafia
AFC Shempionship – Vertically Enhanced Persons at Tomsulas
SB prediction: Kansas City vs whatever loser is going to lose and go home sad.
You say that every year and have only been right once.
The best thing I can do to help my team is to speak it into the universe.
Much as I’d like to see Jax advance I think you are right.
I almost – ALMOST – picked the Jaguras
There will be 2 AFC Champs and no NFC Champs? This is next level neutral field stuff
Huh. Seven full years of Catholic school and I never learned how to spell “Saint Blaise” (I always thought it was “Blaze”). Just call me Lea Michele, I guess.
Speaking of blaze, my hairdresser (who got sent to parochial then reform school as escalating punishment), she said she always raised her hand for “confession trailer” whenever she needed to leave class and smoke up.
“Blaze” has always been and still remains a very cool word.
When we went to cofession, my friend Amy and I would sit in the pew and make up an elaborate list of sins, which caused us to laff hysterically. Then we would go into the booths and the priest would call us out by name and yell at us for not taking it seriously, which made us laff harder. Then we would get sent to the altar rail to say our million Hail Mary’s and Our Fathers, laffing all the way. Amy and I will be laffing in hell in a few decades.
I like to imagine St. Peter lifting the velvet rope for you and high-fiving you on the way in. “Good job,” he’d say. “D is for ‘Done’ and you were at least fun to watch, as opposed to the rest of these pious killjoy fucks.”
I converted to Catholicism at age 35 as part of my drying out process. Confession was like: forgive me father but where the fuck do I start?
I think a fun thing to do would be to date a priest’s sister, and then go to confession every week and tell him about all the sinful things you did to each other.
“Improper deeds, thoughts, and words.” one sentence to cover all the sins.
I 100% give up on reality. Except for the NFL.
The NFL isn’t reality.
But is as close as Hippo gers.
[nods sagely] – THE NARRATOR
This is the least reprehensible Flacco Eight that I can ever recall. Unless I guess The Narrator is saving all the fuckery to assist the Chefs.
I’d expect THE NARRATOR to get involved on behalf of the Bills, actually.
I know! Who the fuck am I supposed to root against?
My neighbor just got arrested for growing marijuana. I guess my property line isn’t where I thought it was
Will Most Disappointing Everton have the nicest stadium in the Championship league when it opens?
Wait until we find out it’s made of paper mache
Or breadsticks…
I understand your feeling about Colombus, but do remember that he was ousted as governor because the Inquisition thought he was too brutal and viscous to the local populace. The Inquisition!
Please leave viscous in your comment.
That was autocorrect’s fault, but I left it as I thought it was hilarious, especially about an Italian, Sorry Fozz.
I had to read Colombus’s Diaries in university. (Arrived on second trip /spits,
). The Prof. was sanguine: “very seld-serving fiction”, was the overall takeaway.
I thought the problem wasn’t that he was too viscous, it was that he was making the local population too viscous.
I heard someone say “make it Amerigo Vespucci” instead. You know, the guy the Americas are named for? And that seems reasonable enough.
Like a third of this shit can be solved by being Jewish.
“Only a third? Sounds like we need a more… final solution.” — every Twitter account reinstated by Elmo
Seems fair, since that’s what they take off at a bris.
I’m half-Jewish so it solves a sixth of it.
“It’s true, having money solves a lot of problems.” – DeSean Jackson
“Like me!” -“George Santos,” “New York”
Cristóbal Colón y los jodios Reyes Católicos se pueden ir a quemar a las ventas del carajo por cabrones y genocidas.
Otherwise, 🤣
https://youtu.be/Tvk9oFCXid0
Nothign kills my motivation to watch soccer than seeing “Thrilling Match ends in 0-0 draw” as a recap. That and not knowing which version of which streaming serivice to use anymore.
Well, the good news is that Everton certainly isn’t going to do that.
At least the Shite failed to win, yet again. Needed VAR for a home point against reeling Chelski.
Tell me more about the $80 backpack that keeps you from being shoved into lockers.
This here Mykolenko I call him a shy voyeur at an orgy because he’s ball watching.
I got a theme: Winning.
Tiger blood!
Forest is going to stay safe. Yikes.
I just here to watch the Fronk Hippo battle.
You might notice the complete absence of shit talking.
First Everton match on the new TV, and my eyes punished with the dreaded banana kit.
Try some of this
I have been sleeping in so late that I am paranoid that I am dying.
Hey, so long as we finish the playoffs first.
A man for all seasons. You managed to point out most of my peeves of each season. And the hate for our cultural direction…
/stifles a sob…
//dries a tear
Where can I subscribe to the newsletter?
Why am I up so fucking* early?
*inspired by Fozz
Think that this is still a later start than normal, so still good