Chocolate, Please

by Lisa Lampanelli

  Some parting words of advice, Sears Portrait family: Stop buying hundreds of copies of these photos in various sizes. You only need three—one for Mom’s fireplace, one for Grandma’s fireplace, and one for Dad’s wallet. Trust me—the rest are thrown away by relatives as soon as the Christmas card comes out of the envelope. Better yet, keep the photos that were in the wallet or picture frame when you bought it. Those people are better looking than anyone in your family will ever be.

  Family Vacations

  The term “family vacation” is an oxymoron. If you’re stuck with your family, it ain’t no vacation. We should call family vacations what they are: “Countdown to Dad’s public tantrum.”

  Since Dad’s guaranteed to blow a gasket, why not have fun with it? Push him right to the edge. Throw a fit until he buys you a $7 hamburger, take one bite, and say you’re full. Wait until a mile after he’s just pumped gas to have to pee. And, of course, side with Mom when she refuses to read the map but then help her bitch when he gets lost and refuses to ask for directions.

  Family vacations are not vacations for anybody in the family. Fathers would rather be at work than actually dealing with their wife and kids. Mothers are mothers 24/7 no matter where they are, and children hate being stuck in a car for sixteen hours straight only to have to sleep three to a bed in a hotel.

  When families stay with other relatives to save on the hotel bill, it always ends badly. Dad gets drunk and insults his sister-in-law while the children learn about sex and drugs from their older cousins.

  Educational vacations are the worst. Museum curators speak slower than Gomer Pyle with peanut butter in his mouth. Hey, get to the point, bitch! Nobody cares where the fag who painted this grew up. The only thing museums are good for—one word: air-conditioning!

  Disney World makes the kids happy, but it makes parents furious—furious they had to remortgage the house to stand in a three-hour line. Thank God Disney World is in Florida, where the sun puts people in an abnormally good mood. If it were in North Dakota, Disney World would be the murder-suicide capital of the world.

  With all that being said, why do people go on family vacations? Because if they didn’t, they’d just end up sitting at home bitching that they never go on vacation.

  Child-rearing Books

  Learning to raise a child from reading a book is like learning to swim from reading a book: You can’t do it. You just have to jump in and drown.

  It is a known fact that parents with the most parenting books suck the most. In parenting, you can’t think; you have to react. How does some Jew with a bullshit degree know more about your child than you do? These books are usually written by some jack-off who doesn’t even remember the names of the children from his first marriage.

  Don’t waste your time reading this stuff. During the time you’re reading the stupid book, you could be reading to your kid or at least spending some quality time with him. Sure, you may pick up some tips in it, so just make the nanny or a grandparent read it in her downtime.

  I’ve seen a ton of child-rearing books on conditioning your baby. They should all be called the same thing: How to Shut Your Kid Up. Hey, if you want to let your baby cry it out, that’s fine—just don’t do it on an airplane. If I wrote a child-rearing book, it would be called Leave That Noisy Little Bastard at Home in a Drawer.

  My favorite child-rearing books are the ones all about love. They have titles like How to Keep Your Baby Happy All the Time. You can find those at most bookstores in the section marked “Fiction.” If you really want to survive children without going nuts, let me recommend the book my parents read: The Bartender’s Guide to Mixed Drinks.

  Hot Babysitters

  I am going to say something controversial here—hire a hot babysitter! Seriously, this is beneficial to your children. Hear me out. Studies show that people respond better to beautiful people. The children will be better behaved if your babysitter looks more like Hannah Montana and less like Ugly Betty. Your girls will want to act like big girls to impress the babysitter and your boys will be in their bedrooms quietly dreaming up Penthouse Forum fantasies.

  Think of the alternative. An ugly babysitter will be a whore just to become popular. Therefore, you’re liable to come home and hop into a bed of sticky sheets. Boy babysitters are just plain creepy. They’re either sexual predators in waiting or cornholers, and either way, you don’t want them near your loved ones.

  I know what you’re thinking: “Hey, Queen of Mean, what if my babysitter is so hot my second husband can’t help himself on the way home in the car?” All that means is that you should start working on husband number three.

  “What about fat babysitters?” you might ask. Well, there are two schools of thought when it comes to the rotund teen. The downside is she may eat all of your food and there will be no Chunky Monkey left when you come home buzzed. There is an upside, however. You can always hire the kind of chubby bitch who cockblocks for the other girls at parties. Think about it: If she’s willing to ruin her friends’ fun, you know your kids aren’t getting away with anything either.

  Healthy Snacks

  Parents, don’t give your kids “healthy snacks.” First of all, there are no such things as healthy snacks—there are just snacks that are less shitty for you. Every time you eat a snack, it’s going to make your ass bigger, so you might as well enjoy it. People think fruit is a healthy snack, but fruit is full of sugar and citric acid that keeps you up all night eating Doritos. Low-fat and other “healthy” chips are made with chemicals that make you piss out of your asshole. How healthy can that be?

  Foods that advertise they are healthy either have a serving size that wouldn’t fill an Ethiopian infant or taste like shit. Low-calorie chocolate that tastes good is like sex with no strings attached—it doesn’t exist. They say it’s chocolate but it tastes like dirt and is drier than a camel’s asshole. Rice cakes taste good if you put something fattening on them, but what’s the point of that? Nuts are kind of healthy until you rip a hemorrhoid trying to send Mr. Peanut home. The worst health food is the pita. It turns every sandwich into a mess. That’s why it’s healthy—because you only get a third of the calories. The rest are on the floor.

  A warning: Never spend time with parents who only let their kids have “healthy” snacks. You end up hating these people for no good reason. They hand their kid a bag of grapes, and you’re like, “Oh, fuck you.” It’s the exact same reaction smokers have when cigarettes get banned from restaurants. One solution: Sneak those kids candy and soda when their parents aren’t around. Just lure them by saying, “Come on, all the cool kids are doing it. One Oreo’s not gonna kill you.” We have to get the young people hooked, or in twenty years they’ll ban junk food from bars and restaurants, and the next thing you know you’ll have to sneak outside to eat a Ding Dong—which, by the way, is also code for “have gay Asian sex.”

  Sit, Kneel, Stand

  The Virgin Mary

  Some of you reading this may think the Virgin Mary is what your kids drink during brunch at Applebee’s. However, the Virgin Mary is also the queen bee of the Catholic Church. In other words, her shit don’t stink. In short, next to Oprah, she is the most influential woman in the world.

  Mary is special because she is the mother of baby Jesus, and she had him without having sex. I know, I know…sounds impossible. But I did know a girl in college who went to sleep and woke up pregnant, so anything is possible. However, Mary was better because she became pregnant without the aid of Jäger bombs and fraternity brothers.

  The Virgin Mary is relevant even all these years after baby Jesus’s birth. For one thing, Mary would have made the best Maury Povich guest ever: “Find out who is Mary’s baby daddy—Joseph or God—after the break.” Italians love the Virgin Mary and play her song, “Ave Maria,” at every Italian girl’s first wedding. The Virgin Mary is also very important to Latinos. She has put millions of dollars into the Latin community around the world with her candles. Her candles light the way to the toil
et for many a Latino with too much tequila in his belly. Virgin Mary tattoos are as popular with Latinos as over-the-ass tattoos are with whores. The Virgin Mary also brings the plight of Third World South American shitholes to American televisions when she appears in someone’s stucco or tortilla and CNN shows up.

  Due to Mary’s significance, I can never understand why some people get upset when Catholics pray to her to get their message to God. As every guido knows, the easiest way to get someone to do something is to talk to his mother. Plus, Mary was Jewish, so you know she’ll ride Jesus’s ass until he gets the job done.

  I think the time has come for Mary to be embraced by the black churches. If any group of people could understand a woman getting pregnant and not having the father around, it would be them.

  Judaism and Other Inferior Religions

  I’m tired of political correctness making us pretend that all religions are as good as Catholicism. It’s obvious to me that they’re not, and I don’t even go to church anymore. I can just tell by the people I’ve been around.

  Judaism is the original religion, based on original sin and original guilt. It is the Godfather of religions. It’s for people who don’t like sequels. Jews are called the chosen people because they said so and, hey, they control everything, or at least everything important, like the banks, the government, and the media, so they must be right. Judaism is an old religion and many people have tried in vain to kill it off, but it will never go away as long as people still want to make it in Hollywood. Plus, Judaism is not a giving religion. Jews are selfish—if they weren’t, they’d tip more and get male enhancement surgery.

  Islam is the Godfather: Part III of religions, universally panned as awful. Islam is a religion for smelly Arabs and for blacks who are either uppity or who have gone to prison. Islam makes black people change their name to something even more ridiculous. People who believe in Islam don’t believe in Jesus or deodorant. They don’t let their women drive or look good, so they have to wrap them up in blankets to have sex with them. Because they don’t drink alcohol, the less they see of each other the better. Islamics who live in the Middle East hate the Jews more than Mel Gibson and Hitler combined because the Jews have the only beachfront property in that godforsaken waste-land. In America, Muslims wear itchy beards and crazy hats. They’re basically pissed-off Amish who drive cabs.

  Asians have a bunch of wacky religions. One is called Buddhism, where they pray to a fat man named Buddha. How ironic! Skinny people praying to a fat god. Buddha has more idiotic sayings than Yogi Berra, but they’re in Chinese, so nobody cares.

  Dot Indians believe in reincarnation, which means you come back to life as different animals, so your bacon cheese-burger was really your great-grandfather with your cousin who died at birth on top. Hindus are evil because if they loved their neighbors, they’d stop making the entire apartment complex stink of curry.

  Finally, if you want to make it in Hollywood and do not look like a Jew but have just as much money, you can join Scientology. This helps you in the business, but unfortunately, it also makes you gay.

  Birth Control

  I don’t understand the Catholic Church’s stance on birth control. It says the pill and condoms are wrong, but the man is allowed to pull out. Apparently, birth control is only a sin when it doesn’t stain your sheets.

  Birth control is a very big deal to me because I bang the blacks and don’t want to be a single mom. Some people think taking it in the poop chute is birth control because the alternative—getting it all over your boobs—is just plain messy. In the face is never an alternative for me because of how long it takes to do my hair.

  There are many forms of birth control. I do not approve of condoms. They break and they taste funny. Men never carry them, and after a trip to the drugstore, the buzz from the Riunite has usually worn off.

  There is a device called an IUD, which is a fishhook in your vag. It hooks the egg like a trout. It’s like your own Dead-liest Catch. There are dams you can stick up your hole, but when you’re with a black man, there isn’t any room to spare up there. And if you bang a Latino, they just jimmy the lock and get in there anyway.

  The easiest birth control to deal with is the pill. It makes you fat and bitchy, which is a natural birth control in itself. For the truly lazy out there, there is abortion, but it is dangerous because you might get beaten over the head with a picket sign on your way into the clinic.

  The Pope Visits America

  The Pope coming to America is a big waste of money. Hey, Father! We already have the book, we don’t need the fairy tale read to us.

  The Pope is basically a hypocrite. He forgives every child-molesting priest he can swing his gay-ass cane at, but a poor single mom is going to hell for having an abortion. Yeah, that makes sense. And he bitches about how violent a country we are, but he has no idea. I say we take away his security and let him walk through New York with all that gaudy jewelry on, and he can see just how violent we really are.

  All this guy does is complain about how evil America is and we cheer him on. It’s like taking your mother-in-law to brunch and listening to her gripe about what a terrible person you are. Fuck him and his Popemobile!

  When the Pope comes to America, we treat him like he won the Super Bowl. It’s like the Beatles landed at JFK when he hits American soil. It’s less like a religious experience and more like a rock show. He comes out in his Elvis jumpsuit and big hat, and his opening act is some cardinal that nobody cares about. A bunch of priests run around like roadies, getting the stage ready and finding crippled groupies for him to heal. After the show, the Pope signs autographs and has his picture taken with people. The only difference between the Pope and U2 is that the Pope is less preachy than Bono and easier to understand.

  Priests Who Wear Shorts

  I find something off-putting about a priest who wears shorts. And I don’t mean if he’s playing basketball. I mean black shorts with his black shirt and white collar. What are we supposed to think about that? “Is that our priest or do we have a really religious mailman?” Bad enough his legs are whiter than Frosty the Snowman’s junk—up against those black shorts, they’re transparent! The only thing nastier than a priest’s legs is a nun’s mustache.

  And why are priests showing us their legs in the first place? It’s bad enough they nicked the collection basket for a gym membership; now they have to show us they’ve been working on their calves while they should be working on our salvation. “Who’s that with the sexy calves? Father Jerry. Oooh.”

  What’s the point of a priest wearing shorts anyway? Christ died for your sins, Father, and you can’t take a little heat? Don’t his pasty legs stick to the leather interior of his Lincoln Continental? Is he trying to look good, and for whom? Hey, Father, if you want to fool around with broads, just become a Protestant minister. They get all the bitches.

  One word of warning, priests: If we can see your legs, then we’re just inches away from your nuts peeking out. And I was taught if you stare into a priest’s scrotum, you turn into a pillar of salt. And to that I say, “No, thanks.”

  What Would Jesus Do?

  “What Would Jesus Do?” bracelets were very popular a few years back. If you’re unfamiliar with them, the WWJD bracelet is supposed to work like a dog’s choke chain, making you stop and think before you sin. But just as a dog’s neck gets stronger, so does your ability to carry guilt, thereby lessening the bracelet’s effectiveness.

  I would be lying if I said the feminist cunt in me doesn’t react by saying, “Why do we have to listen to a man for everything?” Seriously, does Jesus know how many tampons to put in your purse? Does Jesus know which Asian does the best job of waxing my junk?

  And besides, Jesus isn’t always right. Sometimes being a doormat isn’t the answer. In some instances, the saying should be “What Would the Rock Do?” Unfortunately, more often than not, the answer would be “A shitty movie.”

  I just don’t understand why people wear the “What W
ould Jesus Do?” bracelets if they’re not going to pay attention to them. I met a guy in a bar wearing a WWJD bracelet. Well, for starters, Mac, I don’t think Jesus’d order a Jack and Coke. He was always more of a wine guy. And if Jesus did order a Jack and Coke, I don’t think he’d send it back if it was watered down.

  Then Mr. WWJD hit on me—which was fine, but he only did it after he had clearly exhausted his other options at the bar. I think Jesus would have been a little classier than that. As a matter of fact, he might have even started with the heavier girls in a charitable kind of way. This moron probably also had one of those little Christian fish on the back of the car that he was going to drive home drunk in later.

  People, Christianity isn’t a membership card to Blockbuster Video—either you’re in or you’re out. If you’re out, take off the bracelet, and if you’re in, quite honestly, take off the bracelet if you’re trying to score chicks at nightclubs. Because I don’t know what Jesus would do, but I know what Lisa would do, and it ain’t you.

  Confession

  Confession is the best thing about being Catholic. Confession enables you to wipe away all of your sins simply by telling them to the right person. You go into a room the size of a coat check and bare your soul to an alcoholic pedophile to guarantee your entrance into heaven. You don’t even have to show your face to the priest, which makes this very easy. I always thought it would be great to be a nasty whore your whole life then get a final confession on your deathbed. It sounds great on paper until you unexpectedly get hit by a bus, don’t have the time to apologize, and spend the rest of eternity sucking on Hitler’s little cock.

  After you tell the priest all of your sins, he gives you a punishment. I never figured out the equation. For example, is masturbation five or ten Hail Marys? Sometimes the priest gives you a punishment like “I want you to try to make better decisions next time.” Those are the best! Hey, Father Dopey, you just let me off the hook without making me get on my knees and pray. Cool! My knees won’t be sore the next time I sin.