You give the worst gifts ever. You don't know it, but you often do. The Charlotte Russe crap you found in your closet that Buffalo Exchange wouldn't take didn't surprise anyone, especially when you wrapped it in tinfoil.
..that smelled like fried chicken parts.
The book that ended with the phrase...
"for dummies," was a bad choice for your friend who just got their GED.
You know a great gift has the ability to invoke tears or orgasms. It can lock your image inside a person’s mind whenever they are reminded that life has a few breaths of worthwhile moments.
Too often, the gift says, "I am too busy to not give you this CD that I didn't really like." You then have to sit there like an ass while your friend turns into an actor and says "Wow, I never knew Toad the Wet Sprocket had a best of..
. good stuff..
.road trip..
.who wants cake?"
I can be considered the guiltiest party.
If I don't forget a birthday, I'll at least ruin it. This year I took my boyfriend to a gun club. He lives full time with me, in all my fabric and hormones, so I knew he would get a real thrill from this extremely masculine activity.
I spent the entire time huddled in the corner, shaking and crying like Michael J. Fox at Abu Ghraib. Who knew I had gun anxiety?
My old roomate and best friend figured this out and had to throw herself a birthday party. I showed up, 4 hours late, with her present: Cold french fries and a half a forty of Colt 45. Oh, and some dirty dice I happened to have in my pocket.
I have turned the tide. And to prove it, I made a list. I made a list of every possible opportunity for gift giving I might come across.
I came up with cheap, quick solutions for the constant plague of useless holidays, overrated birthdays and anniversaries of couples you KNOW who are just about to break up.
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