Shop 'til you drop
I hope you enjoyed your Thanksgiving. I hope you had a nice meal, watched a little football and reflected a bit on the devastating genocide of the Native American people. Then I hope after that, you watched a little more football.
For me, the real holiday isn't so much Thanksgiving but the day after Thanksgiving - Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year. Man, I train all year for that.
I do your curls and your push-ups, your delt slams and your tricep squiggles. And then, when I'm really pumped and ready, I spend the night in the Costco. And as soon as those doors open, boom! That is my jug o' ornaments, beeyotch!
I clearly was not alone. This year's Black Friday showed a three-percent increase in retail sales and a death toll of three. I want to reiterate that - three people in America died as a result of wanting to get a jump on their holiday shopping.
On the plus side, I was able to grab a C-3PO doll for my kids. Good luck giving your kids Screw-Me Elmo. I got me some C-3PO. Nothing can bring me down now!
What's that you say? The U.S. economy is now officially in a recession?
You couldn't have told me that last week? I bought an actual-size model of the Millennium Falcon made out of Legos and white chocolate from Hammacher Schlemmer. It can actually do the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs.
I guess I'm not surprised. I knew we were in a recession when three people were killed in the United States so they could save a little money.
Pants on fire
Plaxico Burress, the star wide receiver of the New York Giants, went to a nightclub last Friday and, while there, shot himself. Why is this a story? Because he shot himself in the leg - one of the two legs he needs to be the star wide receiver for the New York Giants.
Now, if he were Plaxico Burress, famed wheelchair-bound detective, it wouldn't even make the papers. That guy shoots himself in the leg and he's still out there solving crime.
Apparently, Plaxico, named after the plastics company, brought his loaded weapon into the nightclub in the waistband of his sweatpants, and was walking towards the VIP lounge holding a drink when - you're not going to believe this - the gun began sliding down his sweatpants. And when he reached to grab it, he shot himself in the thigh, because somehow his penis had released the safety.
Hilarious story. But here's the thing - Burress is a role model, and he let down America's youth with his nightclub-shooting antics. Now it's left to people like me to pick up the pieces for young people who look up to him. Here goes.
Hey, kids. What's up? I know you're probably texting your 'rents (they're so lame!), but listen up.
If you ever find yourself tempted to walk into a crowded room where people are dancing and alcohol is flowing freely with a gun tucked into the waist of your sweatpants, do yourself a favor and think for a second. Wear jeans or something with heft, maybe a cargo pant with a belt. Whatever you kids wear these days - pleated Dockers, Toughskins, whatever.
The point is this: If you're going to keep it in your pants, keep it in your pants.
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