Five Minutes of Fame: The Ghost of Christmas Trash

People come into our lives and leave just as quickly as they came.  Most folks, who have no better explanation, say that those people are welcomed into our space for a reason.  It could be to teach us a lesson about life; or a lesson about ourselves; or a lesson that has something to do with others.  The possibility of reasons are endless.  But let me ask you.  Why the hell do those people [who have come and gone] return AGAIN during the holidays?  I’ll tell you why.  Because they want a Christmas gift!

They think that just because this is the season of giving, you’re dumb enough to run your ass back to the mall to stand in a long line, merely to pick up an overpriced trinket for them, that will most likely cost you about $6.99 more than what you’d pay for it if you were purchasing it on a day that had absolutely nothing to do with the holiday season.  There are words for people like that: GREEDY! 

So to the greedy So-and-So’s who only call when there are gifts, money, or some other form of personal gain involved, may your Christmas stockings be stuffed with lumps of ostrich dung.  Nobody is that stupid and nobody is that pressed for your friendship.  Perhaps in the New Year, you should consider hanging around a little bit more.  Then for Christmas, you might get lucky enough to receive a gift-wrapped mirror so you can see the error of your ways.

‘Tis the season to be jolly. Not stupid. 

Quote of the week:   “The worst gift to give for Christmas is a fruitcake.  There is only one fruitcake in the entire world, and people keep sending it to each other.”


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This Week on, “Ask Hottywood!”

Dear Hottywood,

I thought I met the love of my life until we broke up yesterday morning, though I expected the end of the relationship was nearing. My heart is broken and I’m having a really hard time letting go and moving on. What do I do?

Don’t Cry For Me Argentina

Dear Don’t Cry For Me Argentina,

The first thing you have to do is realize, accept and understand that you obviously didn’t meet the love of your life. If you loved them that much to give them that title and they didn’t reciprocate, then your title for them was “love of my life” while their title for you was “stalker.” The only things stalkers ever get are killed, jail time and restraining orders – not necessarily in that order.

The second thing to do is remember that your breakup was just a day ago. You need time for your heart to heal.


The third thing to do is stop harping over what was, accept what is and have faith in what will be. Your life isn’t over yet. Just don’t go out and get hit by a bus any time soon, or listen to any Aaron Neville records. That’ll sure as hell kill you.

Aaron Neville

The fourth thing you should do is eat a tub of vanilla ice cream with extra lactose, drink as much liquor as humanly possible and download a lot of porn. It may not heal your heart but your stomach, commode and private parts will thank the hell out of you!


Your pain isn’t going to go away overnight. You shouldn’t and can’t expect it to. That’s considered false advertisement. If you expected the demise of your relationship was drawing near and were still holding on, that past love didn’t break your heart. You broke your own heart. Trust the process of healing. Trust the process of porn. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about when I mention porn…I mean healing.  My grandmother always said, “This, too, shall pass.”

If this breakup or any Aaron Neville song doesn’t kill you, it’ll prepare you for the next big thing. Be patient. Get laid. And then get over it. Annie said it best when she said, “tomorrow is only a day away.”


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Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of December 13-19, 2015

dog psychic

Find out what your luck has in store for you this week.


December 22 – January 19

All of your sweatshirts may smell of old pork lo mein.


January 20 – February 18

You can change your mind many times in a thousand years. Well, technically you can’t because you’ll be dead in about 60 years unless you’re a witch, a vampire or Nicholas Cage.


February 19 – March 20

Lying about your age is proof that it is never too late to hire a math tutor.


March 21 – April 19

Never do what you don’t want to do, except on 2nd dates – because that’s just good manners.


April 20 – May 20

Your butt looks like you are trying to smuggle two bald guys across the border.


May 21 – June 20

A river too pure has no fish.


June 21 – July 22

The way you look today is the best you’re going to look for the rest of your life.


July 23 – August 22

That gut feeling you’re experiencing is not a McDonald’s Big Mac settling on your stomach. Some shit is about to go down. No pun intended. Be ready.


August 23 – September 22

You begin as a 7. After 100 cosmetic products and 3 ½ hours of prep work, you turn into a very temporary 9.


September 23 – October 22

If you made someone cum this year, you owe them a Christmas present.


October 23 – November 21

Nothing takes the venom out of a strongly worded email like a spelling error.


November 22 – December 21

Your hair may smell like an improperly dried wash cloth.

Quote of the week:  “If a book about failures doesn’t sell, does that make it a success?” ~Jerry Seinfeld

For Christmas, I Pray for Mariah Carey’s Voice to Return…oh, and World Peace

Oh, Mariah (sad face & face palm).


After seeing this all I want to say is, “You’re rich enough to buy a rock to hide under.”

All Mariah Carey wants for Christmas is you. All I want is for her never to sing this song live again. Ever.


Merry Christmas, all. Well . . . it won’t be so merry if you keep listening to this shit over and over.


Dear Mrs. Cafeteria Lady, “Watch Your Back!”

Mrs. Cafeteria Lady, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.  I’ve taken your messy laziness for far too long!

On Monday you burned my toast, leaving with me with only the buttery middle of the bread, probably the size of a U.S. silver quarter.  As much as I wanted to punch you in your titty ball, I forgave you.  It was, after all, Monday.

When Tuesday rolled around, you completely said screw the toast all together.  Though your intentions were in the right place, replacing the toast with stale bagels only landed you in the number one spot on my sh!t list.  I wasn’t sure if I’d acknowledge you as a sh!t list offender or not, but after sitting in the dentist’s office for three hours waiting to have my broken tooth fixed, coming to that decision was easier than I thought.

By the time I accepted that I didn’t have anyone to hump on Wednesday, I realized my forgiving attitude would shift swiftly if you didn’t get your act together.  I’m not sure if you were pissed off with Mr. Cafeteria Lady for not putting it down the night before or if the kitchen was too hot for you to slave over a stove, but serving peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on Tuesday’s stale ass bagels was not only ghetto, but warranted me to steal one of your hairnets to give to my neighbor’s pet pit bull to sniff so he’d have your scent when I released his viciousness on you for not satisfying my hunger.  If the problem however was Mr. Cafeteria Lady, I figured it would be okay if I whooped his ass myself and told him to handle his business so you don’t have to receive any more hate mail from me or any other employee in the building.  I haven’t gotten around to fighting him yet because the dentist told me I needed seven days of rest so the antibiotics he gave me can take effect on my tooth.  Because my mouth is still sore, even if Mr. Cafeteria Lady isn’t the problem, I might kick his butt just for the hell of it.  I need to take out my frustrations some kind of way.

When I woke up Thursday morning, I prayed for a change of heart.  I asked the Lord for patience and understanding in the event I found another strand of your wig hair in my runny scrambled eggs or another one of your IDGAF (I don’t give a f—k) mystery meats.  But when I actually bit into the furry burger [or whatever the hell it was you served on the menu that day] and in fact almost choked to death like my cat does when he has a fur ball lodged in his throat, I drew the conclusion that I either didn’t pray hard enough or should have left out the curse words in my request for understanding.  My throat is still itching and I still want to punch you in your titty ball.

Well today is Friday.  I am completely fed up from the lousy week I’ve had, the poor breakfast and lunch you’ve dished out all week, and am tired and hung over from the party I crashed last night, not to mention sick as a dog for mixing alcohol with antibiotics.  Learning there is no damn coffee in the coffee pot this morning is the last straw!  You have had ample time to get it right and you still haven’t complied.  Enough is enough!  I would like to officially warn you to email your ass home today before you get off work, because if you don’t there will be a gang of girls waiting for you in the parking lot to beat the crap out of you, unless you have a large pizza delivered to my office with extra cheese, pepperoni AND sausage…and no hair!

I will not accept any apologies, sob stories, or any forms of bribery that does not involve mozzarella cheese or vegetable oil.

I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you just had a bad week, however that is not my problem and giving you the benefit of the doubt will not protect you from getting drop-kicked in the parking lot.  I am a firm believer that you must learn from your mistakes so that you won’t make them again.  And after those girls run your wig up a flag pole, perhaps then you will take your job a little more seriously and realize that employees that deal with a whole bunch of mess eight hours a day, five days a week, will not tolerate any excuses from you or anyone from the kitchen staff.  Food is our salvation and cooking is your job.  Get with the program or get lost!


Have a blessed day!

Thank you,


 Quote of the week:  “Avoid fruits and nuts. You are what you eat.”

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Honey, It’s Not You. It’s Me: The Scientific Truth Behind Morning Wood


Not TonightI’m going to do you a favor and hip you to some 411. You are not as sexy as you think you are first thing in the morning. Don’t get me wrong. Wearing over-sized pink rollers with your head wrapped in the filthiest sheer scarf you can find may turn some men on. Morning breath may turn some men on. Those men are weird. But not all men are weird…all the time. And contrary to popular belief, not all men are horny when they wake up. …well, again, not all the time.

Usually, when you ladies wake up in the morning and are stabbed in the nape of your back from your beau’s jimmie, I’m sorry to say, it has nothing to do with your unflattering scarf and crinkled neck hair.  It has everything to do with nocturnal penile tumescence, or morning wood, as some would so eloquently refer to it. Nocturnal penile tumescence is a spontaneous erection of the penis during sleep or when waking up. All men without physiological erectile dysfunction experience nocturnal penile tumescence, usually three to five times during the night. Now that I think about it, when your man goes to choke his chicken at 3am, it’s not because you’ve turned him on soooooo much with your snoring, it’s because of this spontaneous erection that he must tend to before his balls explode.

The cause of nocturnal penile tumescence is not exactly known, but it is guessed that the hormones of the part of the brainstem involved with responses to stress or panic (scientifically referred to as locus ceruleus, so I’ve been told. I was kind of known for skipping biology class in school) allows testosterone-related excitatory actions to manifest as nocturnal penile tumescence. While we’re sleeping, a little angelic devil whispers in our ear that it’s time to lay the pipe!  In other words, whether or not there’s a phat butt pressed against our “little big friend,” us men are going to wake up ready to release and there’s nothing a woman’s bad morning breath or ratty old scarf can do to stop the urge! Their phat butt is just icing on the cake (no pun intended).

Fellas, if you ask me, this is the perfect time to say to your woman, “It’s not you. It’s me.” Wait. That conversation may not end well either. You get my point.

P.S. Ladies,

You’re welcome. I think.

Quote of the Week:  “We firmly believe there is more to life than money, sex and beer (not necessarily in that order). We just don’t know what it is.”

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