Cyber Monday!!!

If you’re anything like me, you’re woefully unprepared for the holidays. They come up on you so fast! One minute you’re celebrating Halloween with a carafe of grain alcohol, and the next you’re waking up on a snow covered lawn littered with empty whiskey bottles and lifeless hookers. You don’t know where your family is, let alone what you’re going to get them for Christmas. What you need to do is come up with a perfect gift, that special purchase that says, “I thought of you this holiday season, even if only between the blackouts.” That way your special someone feels needed, which is going to come in handy when you’re trying to round up character witnesses that don’t know you by your incriminating nickname (Drive-By). And Dogs on Drugs is here to help.

Before I get started, I’m going to go ahead and answer a few questions that you’re bound to have. First of all, you’re certain to notice that I am presenting you with links to products that you can purchase on Amazon which may make you wonder why, exactly, you need to provide me with all of your major credit card numbers, email passwords, and a recent picture of your genitalia (females over 18 years of age only, please). Well, it’s a little difficult to explain, but suffice it say that recent photographic evidence documenting an illicit liaison between my congressional representative and a Dyson DC 58 handheld vacuum cleaner (“Powerful suction that doesn’t fade“) allowed me to sneak a few riders into the Homeowner’s Flood Insurance Affordability Act of 2014, including one that technically makes it a felony to refuse any demands made by a web site displaying a picture of a squirrel smoking hash.

So make with the crotch shots and credit card numbers, unless you’re looking to vacation in Guantanamo Bay this season.

Also, as we live in an age of heightened security, you may be wondering what the Official Dogs on Drugs Privacy Policy is. Behold:

Simply put, the Official Dogs on Drugs Privacy Policy is that you have no privacy. I will take all of your personal information and sell it to recently released convicts in Montana. I also reserve the right to put a lien on your home, geodesic dome, yurt, teepee, camper, tent, and/or automobile, which you expressly authorize by having read this sentence. All ideas and/or children that you have subsequent to having read this privacy policy become permanent property of Dogs on Drugs Heavy Industries (previously known as the Church of Maximum Viscosity, Crazy Stu’s House of Discount Peg Legs, and Shriner’s International). By remaining alive after having read this policy, you agree to hold Dogs on Drugs Heavy Industries harmless and not financially or legally responsible for any injuries you may sustain when I show up at your house and punch you in the neck for reasons that are now classified as Level One National Security State Secrets as per the Homeowner’s Flood Insurance Affordability Act of 2014. Offer null and void on Pluto.

There, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s make with the motherfucking holiday magic.

Star Legacy Deluxe Casket (Midnight Blue, 190 pounds) – It used to be that when you needed a Christmas casket, you had to go through the hassle of coming up with a dead body to justify your purchase. You had to find a hobo, lure him into your basement and then send him home to Jesus, all while making sure that your activities went unnoticed by authorities and the kids in the day care you’re operating out of your house. What a hassle!

But Amazon has made that inconvenience a thing of the past! You are now free to purchase caskets whenever the fuck you want, and at the low, low price of $1,659.00, I’m trying to think of a reason why you wouldn’t buy at least six of these puppies. I don’t know, maybe if you’re a gigantic asshole or something. They make great storage containers, they’re comfortable and stain resistant (in case bumping uglies in a casket is your thing), and they serve as a great reminder to your children that life is short and unfair, especially if they don’t clean their fucking room already.

Check out using the promo code “BASEMENT FULL OF DRIFTERS” and get a fun novelty bumper sticker reading, “My other casket is a shallow grave in the woods!”

A 55 gallon drum of lube – First of all, for those of you who might be laboring under the false impression that I do not sacrifice for my “art”, consider the fact that the first two items on this Cyber Monday gift list alone have made my Amazon Recommended Purchases section the single most profoundly disturbing thing in the universe (outside of anything found in Andy Dick’s bedroom). I do it all for you, dear reader. And for the voices in my head that tell me to do this horrendous shit.

Ok! Lube! Fifty-five fucking gallons of it! Because if you’re going to be trolling for poon-tang in the old folk’s home, you’re gonna need it. Good God that’s a lot of lube! I spoke with a Professor of Lube Sciences (yes, that’s a thing, but only at Arizona State University), and he estimated that it would take Lindsay Lohan upwards of 4 whole days to go through this much lube. So if you or your loved one has a “fun-zone” that could charitably be described as “Sahara-like”, 55 gallons of lube would make a wonderful stocking stuffer, don’t you think?

Taxi: The TV Show Pint Glasses (set of two) – Are you stuck in the 80’s? Do you love classic sitcoms? Have you ever been arrested for leaving DNA “samples” in Marilu Henner’s panty drawer? (Brother, I can relate.) Well, why the fuck are you not drinking bourbon out of these motherfucking SWEET-ASS Taxi: The TV Show Pint Glasses (set of two)?

You know how god damn cool these things are? Like, if Danny DeVito was driving by and had a flat tire and knocked on your door to ask to use your phone and he saw you drinking out of one of these pint glasses, he’d probably blow you on the spot. He wouldn’t even have to get down on his knees or anything (which coincidentally is how he got the role on Taxi to begin with). That’s how mind-blowingly awesome these fucking pint glasses are.

BUT THERE IS ONLY ONE SET LEFT IN FUCKING STOCK, YOU TAXI PINT GLASS NOT-HAVING MOTHERFUCKERS, SO ORDER RIGHT THE FUCK NOW OR YOU WILL WEEP BITTER TEARS FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!

The 2009-2014 Outlook for Wood Toilet Seats in Greater China – Ladies, has this ever happened to you? You’re sitting in an airport bar, waiting for a flight when out of nowhere, the man of your dreams walks in. Attractive, well dressed, with colorful blue and red markings in the buttock area to indicate that he’s in heat. He sits at the table next to you, and after a moment or two he looks over in your direction. He’s got a devastating smile, a small cleft in the chin, steely blue eyes, and just enough of a five o’clock shadow to let you know that he’s a goddamn man. He leans over to you and says, “Wow, you’re absolutely stunning, do you know that? The moment I laid eyes on you, it felt like someone had sucked all the air out of the room. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever met a more attractive woman. I bet you have all kinds of interesting things to say about the outlook for wood toilet seats in greater China for the years 2009 through 2014!” And you’re sitting there like a complete fucking moron, drool rolling down your chin, because you, my fair lady, don’t know motherfucking shit about the outlook for wood toilet seats in greater China at all, let alone for the years 2009 through 2014.

Yeah, sure, the book costs $356.42, but so what? Are you going to quibble over the cost, you fucking cheap-wad? That’s like a single car payment, and the next time you’re hanging out in an airport bar you could have this book at the ready to impress total strangers with. And who knows, maybe Mr. Dreamboat will happen by again, only this time he will decide to fill you up with babies, because if there’s one thing that makes guys hot, and I mean FUCKING HOT, it’s a broad with toilet-smarts.

I’m going to be completely honest here: If you don’t buy this book, you don’t deserve to reproduce. Period.

Creed – Greatest Hits – Hahahaha, just kidding. Nobody buys that fucking shit.

Hey, have you been reading about Scott Stapp’s recent drug-induced meltdown? Pretty pathetic stuff, but I’m not going to make fun of him for that because drug addiction is no laughing matter (unless it involves Fred Durst, and then it’s fucking hilarious). But I noticed in one recent story that he has a son whom he named Jagger. Jagger Stapp. Jesus, that sounds like a particularly wicked strain of VD that popped up in major cities when the Rolling Stones toured in the 70’s.

E/R Attendant: May I help you, ma’am?

Young lady: Ummm, yeah, I uncrossed my legs recently and songbirds fell dead from the sky. I think I might have a case of the Jagger Stapps.

Hee Haw Clock (13 inch) – Do you have a single digit IQ? Do you have a gun rack mounted on the back of your trucker hat? Is your family tree free from unsightly forks? Well, stop fuckin’ your sister and buy one of these goddamn clocks! It may be difficult to tell what time it is (“Zeke! It’s half-past fat, toothless, hillbilly! Time to flip momma over on the couch!”), but you won’t fucking care what time it is when you see this baby sitting on the wall of your trailer. Plus, order in the next fifteen minutes, and we’ll make sure that your Hee Haw clock is HAM SCENTED (basically by mailing it to you and waiting, because let’s face it, everything you own smells like ham).

Speaking of which…

Ham-gina – Ok, technically, Amazon sells this as “City Ham”, but that’s not fooling me one goddamn bit. Clearly this is what is known in the meat-packing industry as a “Slut Ham”. But try explaining that to the people I spent last Easter with. Let’s just say that they were less than impressed with the reception I gave their Easter Ham-gina, but c’mon… Look at that ham-gina! It’s just begging for it!

Related: I’m no longer allowed to volunteer for Easter down at the local orphanage, with or without the bunny costume.

Ass Enlarging Cream – Over here in America, we have different ass enlarging techniques, mostly centered around sitting on the couch and eating peanut butter out of the jar with our bare hands. But due to the constant earthquakes, tsunamis, and Godzilla invasions, Japan has fallen behind in the Gigantic Asses Race. Ever resourceful, though, the Japanese have come up with this ass enlarging cream which makes some startling claims:

Please to be placing of the cream on the area for sit. In eventfulness of scarring, shortness of breathe, or explosive growth of tentacle, consulting of ancestors may be preferred. Do not think of color blue!

Unfortunately, though, I have to say that I have some reservations about this product, as the gigantic ass pictures provided on Amazon’s site are clearly from the “Before” category:

Oh, those poor, poor women! I hope the ass enlarging cream worked out for them!

Well? What are you waiting for? I am taking orders right fucking now, down there in the comments section. These products will make you a goddamn hero this Christmas. Trust me, once you’ve shown up at Christmas with a casket, 55 gallons of lube, a Ham-gina, and some ass-enlarging cream, you will never be forgotten. (I didn’t even know there was such a thing as an eternal restraining order. Go figure.)