My Favorite Moments of Family Holiday Chaos
Famarchy: The (arguably amusing) utter chaos into which your offbeat loved ones inevitably descend within the first 12-18 hours of each ill-fated reunion.
Famarchy: The (arguably amusing) utter chaos into which your offbeat loved ones inevitably descend within the first 12-18 hours of each ill-fated reunion.
It’s here, the moment you’ve been dreading and looking forward to for what feels like forever: your first day on the job at the strip club, or…you’ve just gone into labor.
I realized that there really is no set code, instruction booklet, or manual on how to be an adult, we're all just winging it. Here are four truths everyone faces though.
There's no real easy way to go about this so I'll just come out and say it: I've switched bodies with my 9-year-old son and I don't know what to do about it.
The Cullens are survived by their only daughter, Simonne, who said, "At least they died doing what they loved most: arguing...and buying other people's junk."
My dad cashed his F word chip in around my brothers and me with a salty, heartfelt "MOTHER FUCKER." All because he didn't know how to use a handsaw.
Walmart has better prices and Kohl's has better selection, but Target has way hotter moms. And it might be part of a flawless marketing strategy to attract men.
Baby shower timing is important. Too late and Rosemary may be dead after the Antichrist rips out of her stomach. Too soon and she'll have no baby bump to sport!
Even though I gave birth to this thing, I still very much dislike babies. Before you consider littering this world with your awful spawn, here's why you'll regret it.
If the conditions that make you fat or skinny, exercise-addict or couch-potato, can be traced back to conditions out of your control, then who's fault is it? Your parents'.
The first thing you should know about the remake is that it's not a comedy. The second thing you should know is that IT'S NOT FOR CHILDREN, YOU SHITTY PARENTS.
I've done my best this year to try and avoid the Facebook narcissism that endlessly infiltrates my news feed, only to find that it is physically impossible, thus Part 3.