Gift shopping: I’m doing it right

You…. well I’m not sure how well you’re doing this holiday season. And since I’m in an oh so giving mood (hohoho bitches) here are some tips for gifts for all your friends.

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On the origin of shorties

microwave-oven-old-school1

All stories begin at their beginnings but I’m going to start half an hour before the beginning. Now, I was there for this whole thing but I’m not exactly the most reliable source on this particular event. Instead, the scene of my birth will be told from the perspective of my mum. Now it’s a tincy bit awkward to just walk up and say to a person, “Hey, remember that time I was in you uterus?” So, the following will be my interpretation of my birth from the perspective of my mommy dearest based on what she’s told me in the past about her pregnancy and my birth.

It was just an average day. I went on a few submarine rides, did a few backflips, just my regular pregnancy routine. There was a fat guy who tried to break in today but then I realized it was just my husband so I let him in. Man that obesity sure snuck up on him. He was just a skinny ol’ lad until one fateful day he decided to make a funny face and it got stuck that way. Oh the horror! To get his face back to normal again the doctors had to prescribe him a mysterious unnamed drug that instantaneously turned him obese! [I know what you think guys: medical advances like this weren’t possible 20 years ago in China. Well I can assure you that this story is completely factual because my family had ins with the Chinese army and the army hospital so, through completely legal and humane methods, we were able to procure this miracle pill for my dad]. That night I cooked our favourite meal: my pet rabbit. Well, he used to be my pet rabbit anyways. We were having a lovely meal when all of a sudden my uterus started to hurt.

We rushed to the giant hospital I worked at because it was the best hospital in the city (largely due to the fact that I worked there and I was one of the best doctors in the country or something like that). An ultrasound confirmed that my fetus had tried to strangle itself to death! They said the cause may have been my off key singing of 90’s Mandarin pop music every morning but, being one of the best doctors in the country or something like that, I knew it was because I did too many backflips. 

And so I was rushed into surgery where they removed my child from my uterus in a totally not gross manner. While I was able to spare my child the trauma of being pulled kicking and screaming from my vagina, alas I had deprived it of a numerically perfect birth date of 11/11. Soon after, they put my child in a microwave. [This might be due to the fact that I was born with superpowers that only putting me in a microwave cold nullify or, less interestingly, my mom needs to practice her English. While the latter is the more probable, I will always hold on to the hope that the former is what really happened. One can always dream.] 

After I brought it home, I decided an infant should have a shaved and onioned head for the first two years of life. [Chinese tradition states that shaving and rubbing onions on the head makes hair grow more lusciously]. Of course it was only two years because after that I moved to America so my child would believe that mommy lived in the telephone for six years. 

And that my internet is the wonderful story of my birth. Darwin would be proud to have the title of his greatest work punned for this.