That package must have been meant for the mother, not the daughter.

Now that is a gift.

You're going to end up at a lot of parties in the next 10 days. Some good, most horrendous. Here  are a few tips for getting out of a couple bad holiday situations.

Problem: Bad Party with more old people at it than you expected. What I do: Guerilla warfare. There's a laundry list of things you can do to destroy a party from within. Number one is clog the main toilet. This can shorten a party by hours, and if it's a small apartment with only one bathroom, you could bring it to a screeching halt right then and there. The best way to do this is with paper towels. Toilet paper is made to break up in water; paper towels are made to keep their structure as well as possible. Smuggle paper towels into the bathroom. This might be tough to pull off; if people are around, do it one at a time, like how Andy Dufresne smuggled the pieces of his cell wall into the yard in Shawshank Redemption. When you have a bunch, flush 'em. Once the problem is known to the host, say something like "thanks for having us, looks like you've got your hands full, though!"
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Christmas is about to sneak up on us again. When I doubt my gift selecting ability, I turn to tradition as a guide, ensuring that my gifts will adhere to the good, honest, decent American values that made this country, and the show Mad Men, great. That's why this year, I'll be giving Camel cigarettes. Former President Reagan's endorsement notwithstanding, I was initially skeptical of cigarettes as a gift, since they get so much bad press, but that was before I found out that more doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarette. So Merry Christmas everyone! Smoke 'em if you got 'em!

Christmas. Yeah, we're going there. I never said this would be a smooth ride. Christmas is of course the celebration of the day Jesus was born and placed in a manger because there was "no room at the inn". Seriously?  Who was running this inn? Messianic prophecy or not, it's a couple who had a baby 5 minutes ago, you can't make some space? Hell wouldn't even pull that shit, and we're talking about a place that dedicates an entire high-rise to gleefully forcing glass shards under the eyelids of false witnesses.

Christmas is also the beginning of Christmastide, the so-called 12 days of Christmas, made famous in the song of the same name. Allow me to take a breath before going into this one. Let's think about this. The first 4 days, the singer's "true love" - and I put that in quotations because I'm not sure I buy that designation for reasons I'll explain - gives her (Yeah, her. I've lived so long I stopped counting my age when we went from Roman to Arabic numerals, and I can tell you this: chicks don't buy guys multiple swans. Sorry boys, ain't gonna happen.) a partridge (with tree), 2 turtle doves, 3 french hens, and 4 colly birds. The song seems to suggest that these things are stacked every day, so on the first day it's a partridge in a pear tree, and on the second day it's 2 turtle doves and a second partridge in a pear tree, and so on. I'm going to assume that's not the case, and that each subsequent mentioning of a gift is a reference to the original, and not a duplicate gift. If I'm wrong, then what I took to be merely absurd is actually whatever is above absurd. Preposterous?

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Less than 5 pages into the magazine I came across this article about Serena Williams' recent tennis win against Mother Nature (must be Mick Foley's cousin).  Apparently, Serena shut Mother Nature out in straight sets, proving not only herself as THE dominant force in women's tennis, but also showing great ethical fortitude, as apparently Mother Nature has been trying to bribe her by sending her a gift every month.

Nothing screams festive like a holiday photo of a scantily clad woman of questionable intelligence posing with her lovely lumps.

Much like Santa's sack, Nadia Suleman's uterus is the gift that keeps on giving. Now, pass the eggnog! (Maybe hold the egg on her's.)

This holiday season we're going to be giving you gift ideas, and here's our first. It's a doozy and we have no idea whether this is for real or not but it must be posted here. It's a Kosher Prostate exam. Do you have to be Jewish to receive one? Who knows! But this sounds like a real winner of a gift for Dads or people who just like their anal cavitity rubbed (and who doesn't?!?).

If you have any awesome gift ideas that we should know about, please email us at talkback@liquidgeneration.com. We'd love to hear about it.

(via Talk Like A Gentlmen)

We wonder if you bring a cooler gift to the strip club - say, a werewolf lighter -- do get better (read = more naked) time in the champagne room? Only one way to find out!