Post Traumatic Turkey Syndrome

I trust everybody had a nice Thanksgiving. It’s a really warm and fuzzy holiday, isn’t it? Only in America can you sit down to a great dinner with friends and family professing your love for the world one day, and beat the shit out of the guy that took Wal-Mart’s last iPod Nano from your shopping cart the next.

Ah, the Holidays. It’s such a lovely time of year. From Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve; five weeks in our lives where we just go off the freaking deep end. We start out the five weeks spending hundreds of dollars on turkey and ham dinners. Afterwards, we complain that we spent too much, we made too much, we ate too much, and if we eat one more goddamn leftover turkey sandwich during the week we’ll throw up all over our keyboards. Then, approximately four weeks later, we are ecstatic to do it all over again.

With every Thanksgiving feast across the country, there is always one guy (usually it’s Uncle Monty), who automatically becomes a chemical engineer and starts spewing the effects of tryptophane on the brain. But, what gives us Americans our 40-day dementia is not the tryptophane. It’s actually another little known chemical called triptothemall. This is when the trouble starts.

We will buy anything and everything for people we don’t even like. During the year we will drive around for an hour searching for gas that is a penny cheaper, or not biggie size the Wendy’s because the 49 freaking cents doesn’t fit into our budget, but we will charge our credit cards up to the max to give people expensive crap they will never, ever use. You see? Dementia. Can you tell me why the hell you bought Grandma “Grand Theft Auto?” She doesn’t even have a goddamn Playstation.

Our psychotic behavior continues when we go to get that beloved icon of Xmas, The Tree. Forty-seven weeks out of the year we support Greenpeace, spout our concerns over global warming, and preach to all about the effects of losing the rainforest. But once the post T-Day Delirium sets in, we go to the nearest woodlands and chop down the biggest freaking tree we see that will fit in our living room. Then, as if this craziness wasn’t enough, we will wrap this dead piece of wood and its drying leaves, with thousands of hot, little, electric lights and cords. And to top it off, where do we put this nice, pretty fire hazard? Next to the fucking fireplace. How’s that for idiocy?

So, the week after the tree fire, the gift tossing, and second expensive turkey-pooping feast, what do we do? We culminate the lunacy of this five-week festival with picking the last day of the year to get schnockered, shout epithets at Dick Clark, and make asses out of ourselves to the world. There is nothing like starting the year out with a giblet-induced upset stomach and the hangover from hell.

I don’t know about you, but this is my favorite time of year.

Happy Dementia,
~Larry

PS: A bit of advice - exchange Grandma’s Playstation game for a tennis racquet. She’ll love it. But, remind her not to jump the net. She could break a hip.

Nine Reasons to Run

Hi, there. Remember me? No? Oh, I’m sure you do. I’m the guy that tried to auction off his ex’s wedding dress on eBay. That was the auction that went ‘round the world. That’s right, that’s me.

I’ve never realized that there were so many guys out there who wanted relationship advice (and didn’t give a poop about the source of said advice) until all the emails from that auction started pouring in. Whether they were getting married, divorced, or just met that special someone and wanted to date again, men were looking for guidance and advice to help them with there own relationships. I was thrust into the role of leader of, what I like to call, Generation-Ex (Wife).

There seemed to be a theme with a majority of the questions I received: What signs should I look for that will tell me my new girlfriend is a mental case?

So, rather than answer those emails one at a time, I figured I would just post some handy-dandy new date tips right here. There’s no need to thank me.

Here’s the scenario: You’ve just met that new honey. You’ve been out on the town once or twice. You’ve had a great time. You’d even go so far as to tell your buddies you two are dating.

You both are on your best behavior in the beginning weeks of your relationship. Your sensuality is heightened. Your sex drive is cruising on the Autobahn, and you throw caution to the wind because, as they say, love is blind.

But, what happens when the honeymoon is over and you see her for what she really is? Most of the time you’re too invested in the relationship—in terms of money, time, or your heart—so it’s too late to turn back. You have to forge ahead—miserably, I might add—to try to make it work.

Here are nine red flags to look for in the beginning stages of your relationship that will let you know you should bail out quickly because that chick you’re with might not have all her marbles.

1. Your girlfriend’s car. If she never lets you in, or even near, her car, it’s a sure sign she’s hiding something. Do some reconnaissance and see if you girlfriend has any of the following. If she does, it’s time to drive away.

-More than one child car seat
-One of those DUI blow-thingies on the dashboard
-More than a handful of Cheerios or french fries on the floor
-Some kind of large animal cage

2. What she packs for a camping trip. She said in her online ad that she loves the outdoors and loves to go camping. You think, “Coo-uhl! A chick that loves what I love!” But you won’t think it’s too cool when she brings her curling iron, a pair of pumps, and a toe callous file on your fishing trip. Take the hook out of her mouth and throw her back. Now.

3. If your girlfriend says she absolutely hates her mother. We’ve all been there, guys. There is really no need to elaborate. This one has “Crazy Person” written all over it.

4. If your girlfriend says she absolutely adores her mother. See Number 3.

5. Dancing. You take her dancing because that’s what she wants and you want to make her happy, even though it isn’t your thing. Very gallant of you. But, when you come back from the bar with her Cosmopolitan and your Guinness stout, she’s out whooping it up on the dance floor with another chick pretending to be a lesbian. Toss the Cosmo, slam the beer, and head for the nearest video store to rent the latest Anne Heche flick.

6. Her pets. You like her cats, you love her dogs, and her reptiles are cool. But, if she encourages facial tongue baths from any or all of her menagerie of critters, just tell her you are not into interracial orgies, especially with a boa. (Disregard this if her boa is of the fuchsia, feathery kind and she’s willing to do her Ginger Grant impression.)

7. Referring to your family in the familial tense. You introduce your new date to your parents and from that moment forward she calls your mother “mom” and your father “dad.” The last straw should come when, after meeting him for the first time, she invites your Uncle Harold over just so she could pull his finger. Need I say more?

8. Karaoke. You take your date out to a karaoke bar because you think it would be fun to scream something by AC/DC. You try to coax her into getting up there to sing, but she is adamant about just wanting to sit there and watch. You come back from the bathroom just in time to see her up on stage with her arm around the only gay man in the joint belting out a Liza Minnelli show tune. You better dump her now, because it’s obvious you would never live up to her high standards.

9. Cussing up a storm. Some guys like chicks that pepper their sentences with just the right amount of vulgarity. But, when your date makes a Tourette's-afflicted utterance sound like a nursery rhyme, it’s time to throw in the freakin’ towel.

10. Bob the Builder/Mr. Mom.* If, within the first few weeks of your relationship, your sweetie asks you to hang a chandelier, caulk the tub, crawl under the house, climb on the roof, fix this, remove that, sand, tape and paint one or more rooms (including the garage), babysit any or all of her or her girlfriend’s children, go grocery shopping, cook dinner, mow the lawn, or take out the garbage—and you do it—you should just resign yourself from having any sort of a fun-filled existence and consider yourself a “husband.” She certainly will.

* This last one isn’t a sign that she is a mental case. It’s a sign that you are.
__________________________
Larry Star is author of Bitter, Party of One... Your Table is Ready: Relationship advice from a guy who has no business giving it. He has twice appeared on the Today show and can be contacted through his website: www.weddingdressguy.com