Wednesday, December 8, 2010

An Open Christmas Letter to...Pop Singers Who Use "Oh, Holy Night" as a Platform to Sing Their Faces Off!

(Celine Dion belts out a little "Oh, Holy Night")

Dear Pop Singers Who Use "Oh, Holy Night" as a Platform to Sing Their Faces Off,

Good for you guys! Rarely in modern pop music do we find the perfect song that let's us really blow our tops off, but you kids have found it. Thank you. Truly. You have taken the birth of our Lord and used it to your advantage. He was born to not only save you from your sins, but also to encourage you to sing so high that dolphins scurry to the surface to hear you proclaim the word of the Lord. 

When I snuggle into the Jetta for a warm winter drive through the snow, I shake out of my boots with excitement when I hear the first few notes jingle jangle from the radio. Here you are, your vocal chords sanded up for some hard work, your face loosened up with intensive Swedish massage...get ready world--you are going to sing "OH, HOLY NIGHT!"

I've employed a small man to be at your feet for today's performance of "Oh, Holy Night". I've equipped him with a small towel to dab the blood from your vocal chords, a sound-proof box to put you in, and a dust pan to wipe up your face from the floor after you sing it off! 

Keep singing, kittens. I'm really proud of you--and so is Jesus.

Merry Christmas!


Me case you doubt are some examples of mind-blowing "Oh, Holy Night" renditions, by some of Pop music's brightest and loudest stars...

(Mariah Carey screams her version "Oh, Holy Night")

(Carrie Underwood doesn't mess around on the high-notes in THIS version of "Oh, Holy Night")

...and finally, 

(Josh NOT messing around)

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

HAPPY 100th BLOG, Madde! Love, Madde


A little less than a year ago in January of 2010, my dear friend set me out on a challenge. My new part-time job was to "Julie and Julia" my life and start a blog about my adventures in dating and the general absurdity that is my life. 

The last year I mounted my Sassy Horse to go on this massive blog-venture. I've run the gamut of topics including: MAN BABIESAn Open Letter to Muffin Tops and Flip Flops, and reveled my true feelings on SEXTERS. I've regaled you with tales of advice on what to do when a boy THROWS UP on you, Liz Lemon'd you with some definite DEALBREAKERS, taken you deep into THE MAN VAULT, reached out to the reader who found me by looking for GAY BLEACH, and proclaimed my love for all things CELINE DION and Adorable Animals on the Internet. All these topics while I attempted to get a date and steer-clear of my comfort zone, The Gay Bar: a one-stop shop for all of my Fabulous Ex-Boyfriends

So, what lies ahead for the blog? A lot more bloggin', I suppose, but just like Mariah Carey, I have a few Grown-Up Christmas Wishes for the Blogsicles. So here we go....

1. Do you j'adore the blog? Why don't you open your yapper and tell me... on the blog! 
The proof is in the pudding numbers, friends. I know you're reading the blog (I have a magical number counting thingy), why not share your thoughts on it? or give me an awkward date challenge? or make fun of me publicly?  Please and thank you! 

2. Sharesicles with your friendsicles! 
I'm pretty sure you have friends who would like to laugh at my expense too. Don't cheat them of that simple joy.  I'm a mockery of myself sometimes, others deserve to feel good about themselves. 

3. Just keep reading, just keep reading. 

Finally, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, and THANK YOU for reading my mindless blabber. It's a lot of fun to do', a little less conversation, a little more awkward dating. Ready. Set. MAN-BABIES! 

Monday, December 6, 2010

An Open Christmas Letter to...THE LITTLE DRUMMER BOY!


(The Little Drummer Boy being The Little Drumming A-Hole in some flick)

Dear The Little Drummer Boy,

SHHH!!! There's a baby sleeping, you moron! I don't know if you were aware of this, but the kid that was just born in that barn over there--is sort of a big deal. He doesn't need some rebellious pre-teen banging on the sheep skin drum he just got for his birthday! He actually would prefer some quiet so that he could reflect on dying for your stupid ass sins in 30 or so years. Got it? Get it? Good. 

Regardless of the social status of said baby, let's talk about the fact that someone gave you a drum in the first place. You're not fit to be PA-RUM-PU-PUM-PUMing all around town...that's evident by your behavior tonight. Hand over the drum and take up some soft-shoe jazz dance, this would allow you to get out some of that excess energy IN SILENCE!

Good luck, kid. 

Merry Christmas. (You'll figure out what that means in 30 or so years)



Sunday, December 5, 2010

I'll Be Your Girl for All Seasons...I'm Sorry, Change of Plans--Only 2 Seasons!

As I attempted to brush the 8 feet of snow off of the Jetta on my way out the other night, it hit me like a snowball...WINTER IS HARD WORK. It had taken me about 20 minutes just to assemble my winter ensemble of gloves, hat, mittens over my gloves, 4 pairs of socks beneath my boots, before I was even ready to go out into the world, and as I sat in the Jetta waiting for it to heat up from "frigid" to "freezing", I couldn't help but wonder (Thank you, Carrie Bradshaw)--was it even worth it to go out tonight? Winter is such hard work, couldn't I just stay home and snuggle in my bed like a hibernating bear? But I was late for a very important date (not really), and I was going to get my butt out into the world...mittens and all!

Winter is a lot of work and you know what? So is dating. This makes DATING+WINTER=DISASTER. 
There's a reason they call it a "SPRING FLING", people! Let's break it down for a moment, shall we? 

In the springtime, the world is full of rainbows peaking through the blue sky, unicorns joyfully leaping across the world to bring young love together. and bunnies encouraging us to do it! Just do it! ......Go on a date! DO IT! :)

The world is a beautiful, hopeful place in the Spring. No one can say "No!" to a proposed date on a beautiful rooftop patio, or a walk hand and hand around a freshly mowed park. (Mmmmmm.....let's take a moment and remember the smells of freshly mowed grass.....mmmmmmm.) It all sounds so beautiful, no?

As Spring and Summer wind down, we realize--was I dating the man, or was I dating the beautiful weather?  Most of the time, you're dating the weather. Don't believe me? Go sit in a stuffy coffee shop with the same dude come December and see if you're so euphoric! Go it! Just do it. Go on that date! Do it! :)

They say a true Minnesotan can weather a winter storm, so maybe it's not too far off to believe a true Minnesotan can find love in the snow too! Bundle up in your warm winter gear, and walk hand in hand in a freshly snowed-upon park. After all, a couple that bundles together...stays together. 

Saturday, December 4, 2010

An Open Christmas Letter to...FELIZ NAVIDAD


(this unfortunate version of an even more unfortunate tune)

Dear Feliz Navidad, 

Go away. Get off of my radio. I don't like you or your trumpet solos. Go. Away. NOW!

Merry Christmas!



An Open Christmas Letter to...BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE!

Continuing in the spirit of Open Christmas Letters, today I present to you an Open Christmas Letter to....

(Tom Jones and Cerys Matthew's make me uncomfy as they sing "Baby, It's Cold Outside". Please watch for their awkward dance break at 1:40. Yikes)


I'd like to talk to each of you individually, if that's alright? I'm sure that will be just fine, since this date is not going well. Cold Dude, meet me in the den by the fire place. Cold Lady, go grab your stuff. I'm giving you a ride home so that your Father will stop pacing the floor.

Cold Dude, what up with you? No means NO! It doesn't mean "Maybe I'll give her a half a drink more, get her wasted, and then she has to sleep the nude!" It means NO! We have pitter-pattered about for over 3 minutes while this poor, polite, dim-witted gal attempts to let you down easy. She's just not that into you.

I don't mean to put you down. You've really put a great date together. A girl would be lucky to have you. You're so complimentary, this wine is great, the fire is really lovely, but she's just not that into you. If your buddies ask why you didn't seal the deal tonight, you don't have to say that she left because she wasn't into you, simply say it was too cold and she had some family emergency. Ok. Great. Have a good night.

Cold Lady, what up with you? You knew coming to his house for the first date would make things complicated. You're letting him down easy, I respect that, but you should just say's not that hard. I hate to say it, but here's bound to be talk tomorrow either way. You live with your family and as soon as you get home tonight they are going to look you up and down like a hussy. Your sister won't be suspicious because your Aunt not only has a vicious mind, but a nasty, gossipy mouth..and she just proclaimed to your whole family that she thinks you're a slut. That's what you get for staying so late at this date! Next at a coffee shop. Just sayin'!

Alright kids, you two have fun. And wear a coat.

Merry Christmas!




Woopsie poopsie, I haven't blogged in a while. 
Many people may be wondering where the eff I've been the last few weeks?
Well, kittens--don't you worry your pretty little heads about it because I AM BACK and READY FOR SOME BLOGGIN'! WOO!

Alright, for the month of December I have decided to dedicate some of my Open Letters to Christmas songs! (My favorite songs of all!) 

Let's dive into the snow head first, eh?


(The Cheetah Girls from their album "Cheetah-licious Christmas"...obviously)

Dear The Girl Who Saw Her Mother Kissing Santa, 

Wow, you really want to break up Santa's marriage, don't you? Maybe you don't understand the gravity of your choices, little girl.  Not only did you snoop on your Mother, but then you wrote a hit song exposing the dirty laundry of a very well-known and respected man. 

Snooping isn't a crime, but it will land you on the Naughty List. You know what else will land you on the Naughty List? Ending Santa's marriage, that's what. Next time you creep down the stairs to have a peek, you better be prepared for Mrs. Claus to be there with a big Christmas bag of whoop-ass for you. Don't say I didn't tell ya so! 

Merry Christmas!