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Please, Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas!

24 Dec



Mr. JB grew up in a family that was very small, but still very close. He adored his grandparents, King and Queen JB, and his own parents, the Duke and Dowager JB. His grandparents were a little more, let’s say “celebratory” than the Duke and Dowager, and one of their favourite things to do on Christmas morning was to get up and watch Mr. JB (only child, only grandchild) open his Christmas presents while wearing their PJ’s and robes and slippers, and sipping mimosas.




Champagne and orange juice before 7 AM. I’m sorry that I didn’t know the King and Queen very well before they passed away, but I think we would have had a grand time together. Mr. JB still loves to get up on Christmas morning, watch the kids open their presents and relax in his armchair with his feet up and a pitcher of mimosas at hand. For him, it’s like his grandparents are still with him. And they are.




The rest of the grown-ups will have a SMALL glass of mimosa, but I confess that champagne makes me giddy and lightheaded at the best of times, never mind at 630 on a Christmas morning! Mr. JB, who is of Scottish ancestry, cannot bear the thought of a WHOLE PITCHER of mimosas going to waste, so he drinks it!


Aaaaand then he needs a nap.




This drives Mr. JB’s mother completely nuts. She can’t believe I “let” Mr. JB do that, and on Christmas morning, to boot! And inside that is a kernel of some interesting truth. Mr. JB’s mother, a longtime wife and mother, considers it her wifely duty to keep the Duke on the straight and narrow, which is of course, whatever she defines it to be. She has a full arsenal of feminine wiles that she will use to achieve this goal – tantrums, sulking, the cold shoulder, acting hurt and of course, the sine qua non of feminine wiles: tears. When the Dowager goes off into the other room sniffing and then down into the basement for a proper sob, the Duke completely melts and does whatever she wants. I have come to understand that this is how the Dowager fights. In her mind, those are acceptable acts of aggression. I suspect it has something to do with holding on to her concept of herself as a proper middle class lady.


And I am nothing like that, at all. First of all, I consider Mr. JB a grown-up perfectly capable of understanding what he wants and what will happen if he DOES drink an entire pitcher of mimosas, which he WILL do (as he does every Christmas). I think it’s kind of sweet that he wants to continue the tradition his grandparents cherished so much, even if it means he has to do it alone. Second of all, I think traditional feminine acts of aggression are so much bullshit emotional manipulation, and I prefer a fair fight, head to head, even if it means I lose.


An odd subject for Christmas Eve, and the reason I bring it up is because the holidays can be SUCH an emotionally charged time for even the happiest of families, and I truly think most of that comes from women having some kind of fantasy about what their own personal Christmas story should be, and then reacting with emotional manipulation when things don’t go their way. And ladies, that just isn’t fair.




Did you get the present you wanted? Next year, ask for what you want. He can’t read your mind, sweetheart.


Are you doing all the work on Christmas Day? It’s your fantasy, baby. Really, if you want to do less work on Christmas, stop being so sexist in thinking YOU are the one who gets to define how and what the day is. Men’s concept of Christmas is no doubt, considerably different than women’s, but try to remember that just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean your definition is automatically better. It’s not. If pizza and beer is your man’s idea of a great holiday, and yours is a full turkey dinner with poinsettia on every surface and hand made cookies on every counter, well then, get baking! Or you know, order pizza!


Ultimately, Christmas is about family. Whether it’s a religious celebration or a pagan ritual or a secular celebration, coming together to celebrate our families is what the day is all about. In a culture that has decided that families are disposable and that men are particularly useless, Christmas becomes about what you can buy and how you can decorate. Those things don’t matter. Forget about the tinsel and the co-ordinating placemats and the perfect tree-topper. Look around you, at the faces of your family and loved ones.


They are the reason for the season.


For those who have only the memory of their families to cherish, whether they are separated by circumstance or divorce or death, take a page from Mr. JB’s book. Mix a pitcher of mimosas and put your feet up.

As long as you love, you live.




Merry Christmas, everyone.


Lots of love,



How much bread can a bread bowl make? You’d be surprised!

17 Dec

bread bowl

So last night was the big company Christmas party, hosted at the President’s home, with all food prepared by me.  Here’s the first part of the story, for those who are interested:

Around 330 PM, JudgyAsshole and BigMike showed up at my house, and cut and buttered all the bread bowls, readying them to be broiled just before serving at the President’s house. Two more friends, GentleGiant and LusciousLocks came along to help transport all the food, and those two spent the evening in the basement, wrangling all the children.  Without such a great group of friends, I doubt we could pull any of this off, so thank you, TeamJB!


We got to the President’s house and shared a glass of wine with Mr. and Mrs. President, and then me and JA donned aprons and Mr.JB set up the table and seating arrangements.  A lot of thought was put into those seating arrangements with a view to turning the informal discussion, eventually, to the promotion we’re gunning for. The guests started arriving and it was a blur of activity until we finally served the cheesecake and tea.  The food was truly amazing and it never ceases to astonish me how effective a really great meal is at creating an air of comfort and camaraderie.  Colleagues who generally can’t stand each other were talking and laughing and joking and just generally having a really great time.

My beautiful friend from Serbia, SnowWhite, sat at the kitchen counter and kept many of the ladies from wandering into the kitchen to chat with me, especially when the broiling process was underway.  Getting the bowls toasted just right was quite a challenge, and it was clear that most of the working ladies had absolutely no clue what kind of work goes into a dinner party for 38, but SnowWhite certainly does, so she kept the ladies at bay.  Thanks, Snow!

I did not feel an ounce of malice or contempt from the working women when they came to talk to me, just total confusion.  “Why?”  They could not conceive of a single reason for doing that amount of work when a caterer is a phone call away.


Here’s why: once people are in that slightly drowsy, warm zone when a good meal is down and the Chardonnay is buttery and all seems right with the world, the conversation can be turned to subjects that are delicate, or otherwise talked “around” rather than straightforwardly addressed.  Technically, people are hired according to a set of national employment laws and HR policies.  Laws, and quotas and requirements are in place to ensure a “fair process”.

Bullshit.  They are hired based on an informal  vetting process and it’s all about who you are and who you know.  The so called “glass-ceiling” exists principally because women do not WANT to be in the upper tiers of management, but also because they do not put in the work and effort it takes to build the networks that ultimately decide who gets promoted and who doesn’t.

Mr.JB had carefully arranged the guests so that the senior management team and the colleagues who supported his application for the promotion were in the same room, along with a couple wives who had no stake in the game. Most of the people were seated in the open kitchen/dining room, but the President’s house also has a formal dining room with glass doors that could be closed.  And soon enough, those doors were closed.

formal dining room

So here’s what happened: another organization in a different town that does the same work as Mr. JB’s organization has been struggling to get through a certification process that will allow them access to a market they cannot access WITHOUT that certification.  They have gone through TWO different senior managers who have both failed to get the certification. Mr. JB’s organization is going through the same process (this is the project that Mr. JB hired JudgyAsshole to work on), and Mr. JB knows the certification process inside and out.  The Senior Divisional Manager job is two full levels ahead of where Mr. JB is currently in the management structure, but the President and several of the VPs had some information for Mr. JB that all came out last night.

The President and the VPs want Mr. JB to apply for the Senior Divisional Manager position at this other organization and they will personally vouch for him.  He does not have ANY of the operational experience required, but they feel confident he will learn on the job, and most importantly, he can get the other organization through the certification process.  And he CAN.  He knew instantly what they were doing wrong, and how to fix it, but of course, he won’t tell them how to solve the problem.  The other organization will have to hire him if they want that information.


Basically, the President will put his own reputation on the line and leap Mr. JB forward about a decade in his career.  And the VPs will line up behind his application, too.  That’s an incredible offer.  It would make Mr.JB one of the youngest Senior Divisional Managers in the country, by far.  Senior Divisional Managers are one step below VPs.  It’s an amazing opportunity.

The President thinks Mr. JB has a good shot at the job, for two reasons:  one, he knows the certification process; and two, he has no trailing spouse issues.  Trailing spouse issues means the new organization would have to find some work for Mr. JB’s wife to do, if she were working.  It’s a huge pain in the ass for organizations, and if the wife hates the new town or the new job, it’s basically over.  They will have to start the search process all over again.  Trailing spouse issues cost tons of money, and when a candidate comes up with a wife at home, that is a HUGE advantage.

grouchy bitch

And the President won’t just be touting Mr. JB.  He’ll be talking about ME, too!  That I am 100% supportive and invested in Mr. JBs career, and that if they hire Mr.JB, he will be in it for the long run.

Is it going to work?  Who knows?  It’s worth a shot.  Mr. JB got an email this morning with a job posting, directly from the President.  “Apply for this.  You have our unmitigated support.  And tell your wife thanks for a spectacular dinner last night.”

How much bread can a bread bowl make? Oh, quite a lot.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you have it all.  One Breadwinner, one Breadmaker.  And one fabulous team that pulls together to get it all done.  Thank you SnowWhite, GentleGiant, BigMike, LusciousLocks and of course, JudgyAsshole, the bread broiler.  We couldn’t have done it without you!

And Mr. JB?  Get that application in, would you?  You gotta shoot to score. Let’s play!


Lots of love,


Jezebel celebrates NOT enforcing gender norms by hilariously enforcing gender norms

28 Nov

So apparently a big Swedish toy company cleverly reversed all the genders in its annual toy catalogue and accomplished a bold strike against the concept of gender in all permutations!  Boys with irons!  Girls with guns! So revolutionary!

Heard of a bachelor before?

Ever seen this lady (and by the way, I fucking LOVE Sarah Palin!)?  Why are people such idiots?

What’s really adorably, cluelessly clever about Jezebel is how they think they can tell a child’s gender by the length of the child’s hair.  This is a girl:

This boy disagrees:

So does this one:

And him too:

And this little guy has a giant fuck you for Jezebel:

How ridiculous is it that in one sweep, Jezebel can decide that all children with long hair are girls and all children with short hair are boys, deny the fact that most men are perfectly fucking capable of taking on domestic skills and that most women can pick up a gun if they choose to do so and then proclaim it some kind of victory in the war against gender?

Hey, I have an idea:  let’s allow children to decide which toys they want to play with and stop trying to force little kids into carrying out some kind of ideological agenda in service to a pack of witches who really don’t give a shit about children in the first place! Here is a useful chart to help you determine whether a toy is appropriate for a boy or a girl:

The reality is that most boys will pick up a gun and most girls will head for the play kitchen and those preferences begin in INFANCY.  Stop trying to force children to swallow your bullshit theories about gender being socially constructed, Jezebel!  IT’S NOT SOCIALLY CONSTRUCTED!

And fuck you Sweden, too.  I personally predict that Sweden will be the place the backlash against feminism will begin. There’s a whole generation of men who have been taught to hate themselves, their values, their preferences, their proclivities, their desires, their bodies and their very selves.  They have been turned into slaves, working to make the state a place where only women and those who act like women are valued and acknowledged.

That ain’t gonna work in the long run.  Slaves revolt.  It may take time, but it WILL happen.  And Sweden will be ground zero with its enforced paternity leave and mandatory daycare and fucking toy catalogues.

Here’s a toy buying hint from JudgyBitch:  Ask the kid what they like.  Buy that.  Unless it’s a pony or a real spaceship.  In that case, tell them their mom said it was a secret, but that’s what they’re getting for their birthday!

Lots of love,


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