Soon, it will be Mother’s Day. For many of you, it means sending a flowery card that says all the wonderful things you’d say if only you had a thesaurus and someone from Hallmark breathing down your neck. The truth is, the meaning of Mother’s Day has been lost over the years thanks to stupid greeting cards filled with heartfelt phrases like:

If your love was an ocean, you would’ve drowned me as a child.
Or,
When I think of love, I think of you. Because of this, you have no grandchildren.
Or,
With every smile, I remember a special moment that will never ever be forgotten — Happy belated Mother’s Day!

The true meaning of Mother’s Day, as any mother will tell you, has absolutely nothing to do with flowery cards or fond memories — and everything to do with sacrifice.

That’s right. You want to let Mom know…

As I sit here writing this post, it occurs to me that in a few months I will be face-to-face with a large number of my blogging buddies. A normal person’s reaction would be, “Wow, this is great! I will meet all the people who are better friends to me than that one strange, butthole-scratching friend I still have from high school!” Instead I’m thinking, “I’m going to have such bad diarrhea while I’m there that I should download one of those apps that helps you find bathrooms.” I’m pretty sure adult diapers have two major markets: the elderly, and those of us with social anxiety.

Despite worrying about sharting on all of you, I’m honestly happy that this is not just an idea, but something that is actually going to happen. I hope that those of you who are opting out due to fear reconsider because I know in…

It’s time to break out your holiday finery and put a lampshade on your head! The holiday season has arrived!

I’ll be going to one or two Christmas affairs hosted by my friends and family this year, but nothing says “holiday stress” like hosting your own party. Which is exactly what I am going to be doing right here on my blog, along with Ashley from Ashey Etc! It will be a bit like Festivus, since as bloggers we are surely “the rest” of humanity. We’ll gather ’round the Festivus pole after our holiday feast and air our grievances for not getting Freshly Pressed or for getting Freshly Pressed for sub-par material.

Festivus for the ‘Pressed of Us! Be there or be square! No, no, don’t bring a thing; we’ll provide the fruitcake, the booze, and the mistletoe. All you need to bring is your lil’ old self.