:: How to get fat and stay that way ::

With Christmas officially less than a month away, now is the time you'll start seeing all kinds of Christmas-related magazine and newspaper articles, and watch all types of holiday-themed segments on TV. Over the past few years – as America gets fatter and fatter, and people's hearts get more cholester-ific by the day – the one story I've seen with increasing regularity is the one telling people how to avoid gaining weight during Christmastime.

"Stay thin for the holidays!" magazine covers shout from the checkout stand at Safeway.

or, "How to keep Christmas Dinner healthy!"

Listen. Nobody wants Christmas dinner to be healthy. That's not how it works. It's supposed to be fucking terrible for you. Thirty-pound Butterball basted in its own fattening fat. Enough gravy to float a sailboat on. Wine up the wazoo. Eggnog. And as much pie, cookies and Christmas pudding as you can god damn handle.

If the Christmas Day comes where I find myself eating Tofurkey and eating nothing but beans, brussel sprouts (editor's note: Blegh!) and some sort of vegan dessert (Sorry, Tina), well, that's the day I put on a yarmulke, change my last name to Greenowitz and start learning all the words to The Hanukah Song.

Look, I know it's easy to gain weight over the holidays – God knows I have in previous Decembers. And while I don't necessarily want to gain weight this time around (mostly because I've spent the last 7 weeks losing weight....down 15 pounds, thanks for asking) I've come to grips with the fact that it will likely happen.

And if it's going to happen to me, it damn well better happen to the rest of you, too. So with that in mind, I present to you the antithesis of all those stupid magazine covers:

10 Simple solutions for packing on holiday pounds:

1. Invent a fourth meal. Got some days off over the holidays? Great - good for you! Now, with all the holiday hubbub – shopping, baking, wrapping presents, visiting – you are going to want to make the most of your days off. Therefore, you probably won't be sleeping much. And since you will be awake likely 20% more than usual, you'll need to eat 20% more food. I suggest you go with the new meal, Slupper – which is held daily between dinner and sleep. Suggested traditional Slupper fare: leftover pie; large sandwiches; corn chips; bacon; candy canes.

2. Make as many trips to Starbucks as possible. Ignore the fact that Starbucks is constantly filled with pretentious douchebags, and forget that "tall" is actually "small." And also disregard that fact that even the cheapest coffee costs approximately $14 plus a required donation to help some African school's music society. The good thing about this place is that A) Decorations and atmosphere-wise, Starbucks is always Christmassed the Fuck Out. And by going there, it will get you – or keep you – in a cheery, holiday mood. And that's good. And B) Pretty much every drink or baked good there will run you about 900 calories. Go ahead, order two.

3. Two words: Egg. Nog.

4. Three words: Chocolate. Egg. Nog. I mean, seriously. Sometimes you see a product and it seems as though it's been created just for you. God Bless you, Huge Faceless Grocery Conglomerate. God Bless us, everyone.

5. Leave the carrots for the reindeer. Have you ever seen a reindeer? They're fucking enormous. Let them be healthy – they're much bigger than you, tubbo.

6. At all times, ensure that you are full of Christmas cheer. And by Christmas cheer, I mean booze. Lots and lots of delicious booze.

7. Eat Christmas baking with every single meal. Butter tarts. Sugar cookies. Nanaimo bars. Those peanut butter-marshmallow squares everybody loves. Be sure to eat at least one for dessert after lunch, dinner and Slupper. And I know there technically shouldn't be any dessert after breakfast, so if you must stand by that rule, I suggest simply substituting any of the above desserts for your Oak Flakes or Fibre 1. C'mon, breakfast is no time to fuck around – it's the most important meal of the day.

8. Gravy. Is what you are eating dripping in gravy? Can it be?

9. Leftovers. This one usually goes without saying – there's usually plenty of leftover turkey, ham, duck or goose at any holiday meal. And if your family is anything like my family, there are going to be leftovers. Every. Single. Time. And around 8 or 9 p.m., when things are winding down, somebody's Grandma (hopefully yours, or else who the hell is that woman in the kitchen?) will walk out into the family room and ask: "Who wants leftovers to take home?" You do. You want them. Always. And if you have a big family and end up attending more than one of these events, well, all the better.

10. Don't move. Try to get as little exercise as possible. Family going caroling in the neighbourhood? That's nice, but there's probably a football game on. Going ice-skating? Oh, you better go on without me – I've got presents to wrap. And sure, you could get up off the couch to grab another beer, or take the empty plate to the kitchen which has been resting on your enormous gut for the last two periods of the hockey game, but your house is full of people during Christmas! Don't you have some gullible little cousin who you can con into doing it for you? (Suggested method: "C'mon kid. I'll time you!") Or if you don't have a cousin present, I suggest finding your sweet, old grandmother or great aunt – you know, the one you only see twice a year – and getting her to do it. Usually, they're so happy to see their sweet, kind grandson/nephew that they'll offer to do your dirty work without you even having to ask.

So, there you have it. Go ahead and get fat. You don't have to thank me – although if you want to send me some cookies, I won't turn 'em down.

:: Mixing metaphors ::

Memo to woman I just overheard:

The phrase is "a fine kettle of fish," and not, as you suggested in your recent conversation, "quite a kettle of worms."

Nobody has kettles full of worms.

Conversely, and for future reference, it's a "can of worms" that can be figuratively opened, not a "can of fish."

Just in case you were wondering.

:: Memo to middle-aged contractor I saw this morning ::

Assuming that you are not somehow stuck in 2006, you probably shouldn't rock a faux-hawk. Secondly, you should further be discouraged from said hair style if you are in your mid- to late-40s, which clearly you are.

And you should definitely not dye it blonde, while keeping the rest of your hair its natural brown colour.

However, if you do insist on this particular style – I mean, if you absolutely must – I would strongly suggest that you actually "spike" the whole faux-hawk, instead of simply concentrating the gel on the first few inches of it, and leaving the rest to fall flat against your scalp, thus making you look like a rooster with bed-head.

Trust me, it's for the best.

:: No Laughing Matter ::

Of all the people I know, there are only a few I would consider genuinely hilarious people – these are people who consistently make me laugh. I'd put Jeremy in that group, Bucholtz and Christene, too. My cousin's ex-boyfriend, Dave, was also a funny, funny dude. And of course, Chris makes me laugh, but that's usually because he's drunk and yelling at someone, and Kelsey makes me laugh because she's usually done something stupid – like injured herself eating lobster.

That's not to say the rest of you don't have your moments, too - nearly all my friends make me laugh numerous times, which is why they're my friends, I guess. (This is my disclaimer so I don't get 50 messages from you idiots, mad that I didn't list you by name).

And not to build myself up too much, but I know I'm a pretty funny guy, too. I didn't once win columnist of the year by writing about the Israeli peace talks, after all.

But what's more troubling is that, increasingly, I have been running into more and more people who think they are funny, but whose "jokes" are so lame or dated – usually both – that I just cannot take it anymore (Hence, me posting about it).

My biggest pet peeve is the people who purposely misspell and mispronounce words, effectively ending up sounding like a live-action lolcats poster (And as many of you know, there is nothing I despise more than those goddamn lolcats). This is not funny. It may have been mildly entertaining four years ago, but that was a simpler time, when funny was harder to find. So we settled for mildly cute and amusing instead. That time is over.

The worst part is, rather than calling these people on their lack of originality, cleverness or humour, equally unfunny people are encouraging them. Recently, someone I know posted online some quip about being a champion of procrastination. Fair 'nuff. Valid point. End of story.

But then somebody else, a friend I assume, commented that they would dethrone this champion of procrastination, but they were "too lazy."

Gee, I don't think that joke has ever been made before. How clever. This is the same person who probably still goes around asking people "Is that your final answer?" and wearing Hammer pants. But it gets worse...

A few comments later, after about as much witty repartee and one can stand, somebody else chimed in with something along the lines of "OMG LOLOLOL You guys just crack me UP!!!"

Yeah...thanks for coming out. Go back to your Springer reruns and "Idiot's Guide to Growing a Mullet" handbook, jackass.

We just can't be encouraging this behaviour. These are the kind of jokes you expect when an Autistic Day Camp take a field trip to Open Mic Night. (Wow, that was offensive, even for me)

I also cannot stand the people who, while not straying into LOLcat territory, instead regurgitate the same phrases, comments and jokes we did when we were in high school. That was 10 years ago, times change! (editor's note: 10 years...fuck).

Nobody says anything is "the bomb!" anymore, and not everybody's "mug" is hilarious. Sure, there are ugly, goofy people out there, but not everybody. And while I'm bitching, lets update the ol' music collection from Marilyn Manson's Beautiful People and DMX, aiight?

These are just examples, but there are more. For starters, some amateur "artist" with a ballpoint pen and computer paper dropped off to our office today a comic strip he thought we could run in the paper (forgetting, obviously, that our publication has not once, since its inception in 1976, ever run comics). The comic was titled "Wang, Dang and Doodle" (editor's note: OK, the title is mildly hilarious if you are 7. or 27). It was about, apparently, three duck-like characters. Each piece of paper was supposed to be one frame of the strip.

Frame 1: Giant scribbly head of one of the characters (probably Wang?), saying "OH NO, MY WIFE LEFT ME."
Frame 2: A different giant scribbly head asking, "OH NO WHAT HAPPEND (sic)?"
Frame 3: Head #1, explains "SHE LEFT ME FOR THE MARCHING BAND."
FRAME 4: Head 2: "OH I GUESS YOU JUST WEREN'T MEN ENOUGH FOR HER!!!!"

Ohhhhhhh burn! I see what you did there. The man vs. men thing, because it was a whole band. I get it – very clever. Good work.

See people? This is the kind of mind-numbing shit I've been bombarded with lately. And it baffles me as to why it's suddenly occurring. And why were are encouraging them.

Do these people think they are actually hilarious, worthy of their own hour-long Comedy Central special? I mean, common sense says you update your shtick – nobody does TV dinner jokes anymore, do they?

Let me break it down in an analogy for you. I'm not good at running, so I don't enter marathons. But if I was absolutely convinced that I should do that anyway, I would practice. I would go to the gym. I would get running advice and hone my craft. Or at the absolute bare minimum, I'd buy the proper fucking shoes to at least give myself a fighting chance.

Now, for these wanna-be comics, I suggest just giving it a rest. You are good people with (presumably) many awesome qualities – you don't have to be funny, you're fine without that skill set.

Or if you're determined, it's not that difficult to improve. Just turn on a TV. We have sophisticated, clever comedy now like The Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm and 30 Rock, among others. Not to mention reruns of classic episodes of The Simpsons, which is the cleverest, most satirical show ever produced.

We can do better than fart jokes and lolcats, folks.

A little effort – that's all I'm asking for.

:: Helpful tip ::

If your co-workers decide to walk somewhere for lunch, but you are out on an assignment so instead decide to drive over and meet them afterward, be sure not to walk back with them, thus leaving your car in the restaurant parking lot.

It saves you time, among other things.

:: Public Service Announcement ::

In my 27 years on this planet, I have met quite a few people, and a significant number of these people I consider to be my friends. Now, for the most part, these friends are good people, smart people. I don't, after all, associate with too many complete fucking idiots.

Sure, some of my friends have their moments of stupidity - who doesn't? - but by and large, they are sensible people who are ruled by rational thought.

But sometimes they do things that just boggle my mind. I don't think they're stupid, I just can't quite grasp their reasons for doing things sometimes. And with that in mind, I just want to remind all of you of one thing for your own good:

Fort McMurray is really fucking far away. And really fucking North.

In recent months, some of you have forgotten that, so I just wanted to remind you all, so we don't have any more of these mistakes.

If this warning saves at least one person, it will have been worth it. And for those of you it is too late to save, well... see you in six months. Try not to get frostbite. (Or the herp, for that matter. Those oil sands guys are pretty sketchy).

Thank you for your time.

:: How to survive a social function with co-workers ::

So say someone you work with - one of your friends - has organized some kind of weekend pub crawl, and invited other co-workers, yourself included. And say you've decided to go - it'll be fun, you figure, as long as you don't embarrass yourself.

Because it's one thing to make an ass of yourself in front of your regular friends - they've seen you at your worst, and have forgiven you already - but it's another matter entirely when you are with work people. For starters, as close as you may be as friends, most of them still haven't seen you in certain situations. And secondly, if you act like a dick to your friends, at least you only see them 2-3 times a week, tops. Co-workers are there five days in a row. 40 hours a fucking week.

So I hereby present to you, a post work-function survival guide. Think of it as a morning-after pill of sorts. Sure you went out with well-intentioned plans to just have a few and behave yourself, but instead you did four jager bombs, made some decisions and got fucked. Keep in mind these are hypothetical situations, mostly, and while I have gotten myself into a few of these situations, I have never commented on a co-workers cleavage (see example below) because that would just be.... weird.

For starters, upon waking up the following morning, immediately locate your cell phone. Check text messages and call logs. Don't check necessarily for how many times you called your best friend, or your ex, between the hours of 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. - as we've already mentioned, those people understand you, and expect such behaviour.

What you want to check for are phone calls and text messages to the following people: your boss, your fellow co-workers at the bar, and your co-workers' significant others (forgetting for the moment, that you probably shouldn't have your office-mate Bill's wife in your Fave Five anyhow). If you have no messages from that evening's festivities, you are in the clear. However, there is an above-average chance you have messages that resemble the following:

"Heeeeey douchebag, I'm so glad I work with yous guys. You're GREAT!"

And they probably get more creepy and weird from there:

"Hey, remember that shirt you wore on Wednesday? The one that showed your cleavage? You should wear that one more often"

"When was the last time you actually got laid? You should go hit on my friend Teresa. Yeah, she's engaged, so what? Do it!"

If you have text messages - or, God forbid, voice mail - that resembles this in any way, delete immediately. Best to pretend it never happened, and hope to God that the other person is doing the very same thing.

Next, log onto Facebook. If it's 11:00 a.m. or later - and let's face it, it is - there is a high probability that photos from the evening in question are already posted. If they are, you have only one course of action: untag, untag, untag!

I cannot stress this enough. Chances are, if you act quick enough, the non-tagged photos will show up in very few people's newsfeeds, and though they'll still be online, fewer people will know they exist. (Sidenote: While you are sifting through incriminating pictures, be sure to click "save" on the one of you doing body shots off your secretary's rack...you know, for your personal collection. That one's a keeper).

Secondly, in an effort to stem the flow of news, perhaps change your facebook status to something false, yet less incriminating. Suggestions include "Joe enjoyed his night at the movies" or perhaps "Steve had a good time at his parents house last night for dinner"

Granted, these statuses work best if your name is Joe or Steve, but you get the idea. Also, while we're on the subject, resist the urge to go over the top with your new status. Bill is back from doing charity work at the orphanage, or Hector spent his Friday night bathing homeless people sounds impressive (and in the case of the latter, gross), but nobody's gonna buy it. Reasonable expectations, people - that's the key.

After you've done your best online work, the next step is to pick up your phone again, and send a text message (assuming you're not still drunk) to one of your co-workers who was at the party. Make it something lame, and generic, like "Great party last night, eh?" or perhaps, "How's your hangover?"

Hopefully, this effort will net you a reply from your colleague along the lines of, "Yep, great night. Wanna get some pancakes?" If this is the case, you are likely in the clear, as your friend is not horrified enough of your actions to avoid being seen in public with you. (Either that, or they really like pancakes).

Worst case scenario is the following responses:

"Fuck you, asshat."
"Oooh, man. You're alive?!"
"Where'd you end up last night? Last I saw, you left the club with that Mexican tranny."

These are all bad. But silence can also be just as damning - or not. On one hand, perhaps this person is so angry and/or repulsed by your actions that he or she wants nothing to do with you (til Monday, when they have no other choice). Or perhaps - and this works in your favour - they are more embarrassed of their own actions, and would prefer to hide out alone in their dark basements until they have to go back to work.

Either way, just make the call and hope for some delicious flapjacks.

And now, I present to you your last option. Your Saving Grace:

Just move away.

Yeah, I know you've got a brand new condo in a nice neighbourhood, and you just took out a lease on that new Kia Hybrid, but fuck it. Sell everything. Get out of town. No goodbyes. No two-weeks notice. Just fucking go.

Fast.

Because no matter how well you follow my many suggestions above, sometimes there's very little that you can do to save yourself after you've had your tongue down the throat of that married woman in accounts receivable, got in a fist fight with Paul from the mail room, and puked in your boss's wife's purse.

Don't worry though. I hear Budapest is nice this time of year.

:: Some advice ::

When arriving home from any sort of outing - be it a vacation or camping trip, or a business excursion, I will provide for you this important tip: Upon returning home, be sure to "clean up" everything as quickly as possible.

Be sure to put any excess food either in the fridge or the garbage, and make sure all your laundry is done too, so as not to discover a rogue sock four months down the road.

Those two things - food and laundry - are the obvious ones, of course, but there are others, too, which you should know about.

For example, the next time you go away for a few days - camping with rowdy friends, perhaps - be absolutely sure that you've cleared out your wallet of all extraneous material upon your triumphant return.

That way, when you head back to work the next week and go out for lunch with colleagues, you won't open your wallet to reach for your credit card only to find instead two beer can tabs, a condom from a tournament gift bag, and what appears to be some kind of dead insect.

I'm just saying...