Ever want the Jacuzzi to yourself? Well, the solution would be to avoid putting any chlorine in the bacteria riddled water so you end up with a nice, fresh “hot tub rash”. Sure, it will itch, and it sure as hell will be uncomfortable. But at least you know that nobody will want to get into a hot tub with someone who looks like a measles/leprosy/ hyper acne victim.

I have too much crap.

 The Solution: Participate in an online white elephant party hosted by NGIP and hope someone else has more closet space than I do for snowman-shaped salt shakers, Mickey Mouse watches, inflatable dumbbells and various holiday-themed wool socks.

Unfortunately, participating in a while elephant gift exchange just means your trading in your old crap for a newer variety. Whatever. I could use the change.

I was excited when my white elephant gift came in the mail. I forgot that I shouldn’t be expecting a silver bracelet or trip to Belize. After ripping open the box and tearing through the forest green tissue paper I was confronted by….

A candle stick adorned with what looked like grapes!

Yaaaaaaay. Wait. What am I going to do with ONE candlestick? I need a bigger closet.

There is a reason it’s called a “white elephant” gift: White Elephants are useless. Since they were considered sacred, putting them to work was inexcusable. So they just sat around in your yard doing nothing. 

Getting the gift of an elephant was a great honor (and a curse), but at least the new elephant owner could go broke feeding the thing with pride.

P.S Thanks for the candlestick Rachele! It really was a lot of fun getting a random present in the mail. =)

Time to learn to become more productive and to make the best out of whatever life hands you…even if the crap you deal with turns into nothing more than a bigger ball of sh*t.

Just remember, some things consider a ball of poop a blessing…

America’s Classic Santa:

Sitting on his lap strikes an untold fear in many a baby (just look at that horror stricken kid in the photo…its hilarious). His boisterous laugh-the infamous ‘HO HO HO’-warms the hearts of children and is cause for countless prostitute jokes.

His face, with the rosy red cheeks and immense fluffy white beard, seems to smile back at you from every other TV commercial, every Christmas mug and every soda can during the holiday months (which, I might add, seem to start earlier every year…Christmas music in October? Come ON).

This jolly man, who shimmies down your chimney to deliver gifts and spread the joy of christmas, can do no wrong. Even when he succumbs to the body’s necessities, he leaves behind nothing but the pleasant aroma of minty fresh candy cane!

A man like this is probably too good to be true. But Santa really does exist. Well, he DID… Take away about 200 pounds, add some color to the paper-white skin and turn the clock back to the 4th century and you’ll find yourself face to face with the man who started the whole tradition: Saint Nicholas of Myra.

The Saint’s Story:

The Saint changed the lives of many with the gifts he selflessly gave to the poor in a small Turkish province. What made Nicholas famous, though, were the dowries he gave to three daughters who were so desperate for money that they’d been throwing the idea around of becoming prostitutes. At the time, it was the only way for a woman to make some money quickly. (maybe that’s where the “HO HO HO” comes in? )

The Legend:

After his death, the legend lived on: St. Nicholas soon took the form of a man delivering presents to all the children in the world. But there is a darker side to the story, as well. In the original stories, Santa had sinister travelling companions, whose duty it was to schlep all the toys around and punish unruly children. These stories haven’t changed much in Europe.

The more famous of his companions are the servant Ruprecht-a farmboy who Nicholas rescued-and the demon Krampus. Krampus is the interesting one and is usually portrayed as a horned, imp-like devil, covered in goat hair and with a thrashing tail. He is in charge of giving naughty kids a present, while Santa spends his time rewarding the more deserving kids. Sometimes Krampus’ precious gift was a beating, whipping, a long trip in a small sack or even death, depending on how naughty the kid actually was. Definitely the gift that keeps on giving!

Some parents will still give naughty kids a stick-one of Ruprecht’s favorite beating tools- as a warning during the holidays. I don’t know where the American tradition of coal comes in, but I don’t want to be a part of that BBQ.

This folklore is especially popular in Germanic countries where people show their Christmas spirit by putting on the scary Krampus costume and prancing around town. Hey, they don’t celebrate Halloween there, so this is a way to mix it up a little.

The French have a pretty morbid story too (typical): In France, Nich’s servant goes by the name Père Fouettard (the whipfather), and was standing over the three children he fiendishly massacred when St. Nicholas found him. St. Nicholas, nice guy that he was, brought the kids back to life and enlisted Pere as his helper to whip the naughty kids.

**********

American kids turn into savage little beasts when Christmas time comes around and at this point, not even the threat of a Krampus can set them straight, all we can tell them is that we’ll force them to take a photo with Santa if they don’t behave.

Happy Holidays!

Eating pufferfish is a way for less active individuals to get a thrill without having to overexert themselves. There’s also the cheaper option of ‘accidentally’ swallowing a chicken-bone, but it’s not as classy.

When properly prepared, eating puffer fish will leave you with numb lips, a pleasant tingling sensation and feeling of slight intoxication. Ingesting Vicks Vapo-rub may provide similar results.

If an amateur chef makes a few wrong cuts while prepping this puffy culinary ‘delight’, the diner won’t even get a chance to leave a tip before suffering from nausea, vomiting, paralyses, respiratory failure, coma and sometimes a less than graceful death.

Make sure to avoid any restaurant where you’re asked to pay in advance for the puffy experience.

I’m never one to underestimate how thrilling a lunch can be…I’ve had a few experiences with BBQ burgers that have practically given me an out of body experience (it may have just been a mild heart attack)…BUT I’m not sure if I want a seafood platter to be the most exciting thing I experience in my lifetime.

It’s usually easy to pretend you like something…or to hide it in your napkin. The ideal hosts will sometimes supply a hungry dog to dispose of any unwanted food thrown under the table.

One thing you can’t easily pretend to like, though…no matter how much salt you add, napkins you stuff, or hungry dogs you feed… is a broiled goat’s head.

I tell you this from experience.

I lived in the Middle East for a while, and my dad would saddle me with some of his friends whenever he had to travel for work. Sometimes staying with a random Jordanian family meant you’d get exposed to all kinds of goat parts.

I am a falafel, shawerma, kefta, and knafe addict. To say I was excited about a traditional home-cooked meal was an understatement. Of course all that drooling gave way to a bout of nausea when the platter was uncovered to reveal a goat’s head lovingly garnished with rosemary sprigs and sage.

But it was still a friggin’ goats head!

I still havn’t figured out if this was a feast supposed to impress the new kid or if the family had finally figured out a way to get me to never come back. I’ll admit I was a pretty annoying kid.

I didn’t eat anything, but I did get the recipe:

1 goats’ heads
Olive oil, as needed
Finely chopped rosemary and sage, as needed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the garnish:

Rosemary sprigs
Finely chopped rosemary and sage

Cook as needed.

People love to eat.

Thanksgiving is one of the many holidays celebrated with binge eating. The funny thing is that the only vegetables on the menu are usually hidden under a thick layer of gravy, doused with ‘cream of mushroom soup’, or suffocating under a blanket of fluffy marshmallows.

Gravy is priority. Nobody would really care about the meal without the gravy.

Our love for gorging ourselves may stem from the fact that many people use amoeba as role models.

If that theory doesn’t fly…it doesn’t matter. Amoebas are awesome.

The Greeks had the right idea when they named the Amoeba after a God – Proteus animalcule – after the God who could shape shift. I imagine he could at least make his stomach look like it was talking. People were easy to impress back then.

Unfortunately, pouring an exorbitant amount of gravy down your throat on a daily basis doesn’t give you super powers.

 Well…ONE thing at least: Their stomachs.

And with a constant craving for flesh, zombies are having a hard time staying in shape.

In today’s health conscience world, zombies know that a steady diet of brains is really the only way to go. Intestines, spleens, kidneys and flaying limbs are just fillers that often cause bloating, and zombies have a hard enough time impressing each other as it is.

“A brain a day keeps the doctor (and maggots) away.”

Ironically most people would have gotten a coronary from a similar diet before completing the zombification process. A brain doesn’t have too many calories…possibly around 1800. That’s less than the average drive-through meal that we’ve all managed to survive through. It’s the fat and cholesterol content in the average human brain that will kill you.

With over 30,000mg of cholesterol (over 12,000% of your daily value) found in a tasty human brain, your heart will inevitably explode if you opt for the zombie diet before it becomes necessary. The 120grams of fat aren’t too great either.

Thankfully the limp, decomposing, nugget of a heart in the zombie chest stops beating the instant the craving for brains starts (thanks to years of evolution).

Obviously variety is key when it comes to a healthy diet, and visits to the local zoo are usually a great option for the adventurous zombie looking for a more exotic culinary experience.

I hear platypus brains are 9 full grams of heaven.

In any case, if you really want brains to be a regular part of your diet (and why wouldn’t you? Something with that much cholesterol has got to taste awesome) then becoming a zombie is really something to look forward to…rather than to fear.

*Note: There is no real nutritional information for the human brain readily available, but I took the liberty of averaging the nutritional content of various other brains while also taking the human brain weight, lipid and water content into consideration.

I think I may have taken this way too seriously.

This is my first stab at video editing…but I’m not entirely unhappy with how it came out. This little guy took about 30 minutes to complete in real time.

Enjoy!