Posts tagged santa
Hey, hi, happy holidays homies! And a very merry Christmas to you from Ikea Monkey, The O’Neil family, dozens of dearly departed cocktail shrimp and all of your friends (okay, friend) here at laurenoutloud.com:
Groundskeeper Willie is not one of your friends if you’re pet shop Santa, clearly.
That photo is from last Christmas, but it’ll never get old because it’s a classic — like Woll Smoth and the 2/10 would not bang thing and innocent mischief and the act of bringing one’s laundry home for mom to do because she’s just way better at than you’ll ever hope to be…
Here are a few photos from the past couple of days in Chatham and Windsor doing Xmas 2012 — relatively low-key with lots of family, food and fawesome fpresents, just the way I flove it.
Oh! And before I forget, the winner of LOL’s BIG 2012 CHRISTMAS SMARTPHONE GIVEAWAY is Ravi Steve with his super soup (get it?)
Big ups to all of the generous contest entrants – if it were up to me, you’d all win phones and ponies too.
I’ve got to “GET OFF OF THAT COMPUTER, LAUREN!” now, but first I must share with you this video from Slacktory in which one man attempts to answer the age old question: “what if Santa were a finance worker named Dave Penderson who drove a 1998 Ford Focus?”
Merry Gifmas to all, and to all a good 5 more minutes that are left of Christmas.
I’ve been writing a “Christmas wish list” every December for as long as I can remember.
When I was a kid, these lists were written out by hand in pencil crayon (Sky Magenta by Laurentian what up!) and addressed to Santa — which I hear is still a thing, somehow, even in the age of information.
They almost always included “a real live puppy” and at least 10 flashy toys I’d seen in TV commercials during my Saturday morning cartoons; the Super Soaker 2000, Veterinarian Barbie, The Talkback Dear Diary… Stuff that seemed so much cooler pre-iPhone.
When I eventually found out that all of the grownups I knew were (incredibly generous) LIARS, I started giving Christmas lists to my parents instead.
My mom still asks me for them, but these days the only thing I really want come Christmas morning is a strong cup of coffee and some chill time at home.
Or so I thought.
I decided that this year, instead of a typed out email list, I’d make a Christmas Pinterest board with all of the items I’ve bookmarked on my favourite online shopping sites recently… and then some.
Finally, I see the value of this beast! TO HELP ME CONSUME!
I decided to share my Christmas Wishlist with y’all in case you’re looking for something to buy the weird, kind of nerdy fashion-loving, 27-year-old female in YOUR life — I also requested things like”black socks! white socks! memory cards! more black socks!” and “A REAL LIVE PUPPY!” is in an email list to my mother. But those things are a given.
Basically, cats and skeletons. Also money for improv classes or one of those working holiday programs. That would be cool.
I actually stumbled upon this sweet rapping paper on the pinny while building my list / board… listboard? loard? blist?
As much as I love Eminem, I’d go for Rapper’s Delight in Green if I were to buy some of that stuff FOR EIGH FREAKING DOLLARS A SHEET. Instead, I’ll wrap my gifts in whatever my mom’s got in the basement on Christmas eve because that’s just how I do.
Speaking of wrap and Christmas, have you see DMX doing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on some radio show yet? It’s a beautiful rendition of the song.
The gift of giving is a nice one too.
Here’s the thing about Santa Claus: He’s one shady, misogynistic mother f***er.
Oh sure, he may bring you a fat sick filled with everything you could have asked for and more on Christmas, but he’ll be back for payment later that week, believe you me. He’ll be back and he’ll be looking for a blow job. From your cat.
That slimy jerk, having his way with my precious innocent angel!
Ahhh, jk jk. If anyone came away from that scenario feeling violated, it was one of (or all of) our dinner guests on Saturday night who had to witness the action up close.
“Oh, don’t mind the cat. She licks everything. Well not like.. everything. She doesn’t lick people… unless you want her to. But not in a dirty way. I’m not implying that you would ever try to get my cat to lick your genitals. I’m just saying…”
Now, for something that’s actually pretty important:
Did you know if you say “beer can” with a British accent, you have also just said “bacon” with a Jamaican accent? TRY IT. (via This Tweet)
Nizzle, OUT! More Boardwalk Empire and family time. We went out for sushi this evening and it was lovely. My bed here is like a cloud and mirrors are everywhere