Annoyance of the Day - Lottery Tickets as Gifts

I like to think that I'm good at choosing gifts for people. If I don't come up with the right gift for you on your actual birthday (and we're the sort of friends where gift giving is the norm), then you will receive your gift at some point within that birthday year. Always. And it will usually be quite good. Now, while I cannot pass that desirable quality along to you - I can tell you what gift not to give anyone, ever...

Lottery tickets. Or scratch cards. OF ANY KIND. 

Why? So many reasons. 

1. You would never buy a bag of Doritos or a pack of cigarettes as a present for anyone (hopefully, God, you wouldn't), so you should be human enough to know that something bought at a cashier's register is not a gift. 

2. In doing this, I know for a fact that you thought about what my "gift" would be about three seconds after you left your front door to come see me... WHICH IS WEAK. 

3. Not only are you not giving an object or experience or smile or even a goddam HUG as a gift - you're giving me the CHANCE of winning a lot of money?! Wow. Just wow. Gonna aim to remember that sentiment forever, bud.

4. I may be wrong here, but don't the people who buy and enjoy scratch cards LIKE picking out the cards themselves? Like, for luck or whatever? So even if someone LIKES this awful gift, you're still taking the fun out of letting them CHOOSE the damn card/s themselves. Wonderful.

5. If, infact, you DO give this as a gift - it can only go two bloody ways:

Option A

The ticket loses. And thus, you have given someone trash as a birthday gift. Just a worthless piece of garbage. 

Option B

The ticket wins. And then what? What the hell is the etiquette there? Do I get to keep all of the money? I didn't buy the ticket, I didn't even ask for the ticket. But surely there's some kind of unwritten code here. If I win $5, does that mean I get the whole $5? What if it's for $5000? If someone gave me a lottery ticket or scratch game and it won $5000, I would have to be the most impolite cretin alive to not give that "gift-giver" at least a percentage of my winnings. But what percentage?! We haven't agreed on anything upfront! How the hell am I supposed to decide what amount is appropriate?! You are making my life miserable by making me answer these questions. And I don't care how nice a person this gift-giver is, they are for sure gonna resent the hell out of me winning that money. So great, now I have an enemy. DO YOU SEE WHAT A BAD IDEA THIS WAS?! Nobody should be put through all of this.

Anyway, worst gift idea ever. Even as a stocking stuffing. Hate it so much. PUT MORE THOUGHT INTO GIFTS, EVERYONE.

(Sidenote: What are appropriate stocking stuffers? Fucking apples, oranges, a bite-sized Snickers and maybe a few Kool-Aid packets. Always hated those damn kids who got fucking CDs in their damn stockings. CDS ARE PROPER GIFTS.) 

Dumb yes, but this always makes me smile.  

These were done by my friend Adele nine years ago and I still love them to death. There are so many more that I've kept, but I thought I'd just give you a taste. (Hope it's okay that I'm posting them, Adele - they're so perfect.)

“I think if I were to have any phrase tattooed on my body it would be: “I love you but...””

— my friend Jenn, January 14, 2008

“Wouldn’t it be funny if the first time you gave birth - it turned out to be a hamburger? (And you turned to the nurse, exhausted, and asked for some ketchup.)”

— my friend Jenn, July 21, 2009

My Dad

The kid in the middle? That's my Dad. His 90th birthday is today. He shot this ad in the early 1930s. This wasn't quite the beginning of his show business career since the hot lighting in the studio made him pass out in exhaustion - so this was his first and last ad. Lord love it, though.

Happy 90th Birthday, Dad. You're the greatest man I know and no one will ever hold a candle to you.

Karl Shirt

This is on a shirt that I own that was made for me by one of my lovely brothers Gary and his wife Amanda as a Christmas gift years ago.

Still one of the best shirts I own.

That's Right.

​This is probably one of my top three things I'm most proud of.

​Age 9, killing it.

Nieces

Maya (who's a year old) takes her diaper off and wont let me put it back on.

Me: "Ugh! Why won't she let me just put this on her? Why is this so difficult?! She must really just hate me."

Layla, six years old: "Mimi, she doesn't hate you. She's just a baby."

Fury of the Day - New York Post

I think I can sum up my hatred for the New York Post in two images:

If you don't know the story of that second cover, you can read about it here. 

There aren't many words to describe how despicable this daily paper is, considering these are ACTUAL DAMN COVERS. I don't even love Hillary Clinton or anything, but are we serious here? The fact that such blatant sexism can pass as an acceptable tactic in getting more people to buy your trash? Wow. Sometimes I think women have come a really long way, and then I'll see something like that cover and just think, "Well. Fuck." The rage I felt at seeing that published still lingers inside me and is infuriating. 

And that second cover? I understand that "newspapers" are supposed to cover current events. But at the same time, is there not an amount of sensitivity that should go right along with that idea? That man's fucking family had to see that cover - which is so beyond fucked. I didn't want to see that photo and I didn't even know him! 

Just a lot of hate for the cretins who work at the New York Post. Absolute trash human beings.