How do I make a gift card look like a respectable gift and not a lame-ass cop out?

The gift card is often referred to as the last resort in gift shopping. It is the option exhausted by distant family members who do not know what you want or the coordinators of raffles who feel that a third place prize of a $10 towards Kohl's should do it. However, there is a long lost artistry in gift card giving, which can salvage even the most thoughtless gift into something memorable.

Decide the amount
This is the hardest part of the gift card purchase. While you must make sure you are not going over budget, you must also put a monetary value on love you share with the receiver. 25 bucks should do it. 25 bucks always does it. Always.

Decide the store

This is the hardest part of the gift card purchase. Your recipient will expect to receive something from the store he always shops at. If they shop and Best Buy and you buy him a Best Buy gift card, you are only furthering their mundanity. Instead of something typical, get them a gift card to something they have never tried before! They will appreciate the spontaneity and definitely look into redeeming their card for the alternative clothes/discount lion safari shop you picked for them.

Encase it in gold
This is the hardest part of the gift card purchase. People love gold. No matter what it is encasing, they will be impressed. If you do not have the money for this expensive endeavor, ask someone for a gift card to a place that would do this. If they had any brains, they would take the hint and give you a gift card to the alternative clothes/discount lion safari shop.

Did you know... I received this as a Christmas gift from an Uncle I don't talk to? It was filled with a $25 gift card to Bath & Body Works.

Encase it in an animal
This is the hardest part of the gift card purchase. People love gold, but not as much as they love animals. However, both of these are different loves. One is for companionship, and one is for wealth. Marry these two loves by feeding an adorable, preferably living animal your gold encased gift card. I suggest something that is bigger than the gold card itself, as to avoid emotional scarring of onlooking children.

Encase it in a box made of gift cards
This is the hardest part of the gift card purchase. Using a whole lot of glue and tape, make a rudimentary gift box out of gift cards. This is very straight forward, as long as you've read the rest of this entry and realize all of these gift cards must be encased in gold, which then must be encased by a preferably living animal. All your hard work will be worth it when they come back from their alternative clothes/wild animal safari shop with a purchase that totaled no greater than $25.

How do I better connect with my father?

As many are well aware, I was raised by strippers and, as such, I had no prominent father figure in my life. So I can’t help but find myself at an impasse when asked to provide quality advice for connecting with fathers.

However, I do have a computer and an Internet connection. There are countless online services that allow me to trace my family’s history as far back as I deem necessary. Although my father remained as elusive as ever, one service in particular helped me track down a journal written by my grandfather.

At first glance, a journal of my grandfather’s (whom I have never met) seems to offer little in the way establishing some universal method of connecting with one’s dad, but, lo and behold, the journal contains information about my father! Unfortunately, the journal is in bad shape and much of it unreadable. Even still though, this surely will allow me to finally put an end to this mystery.

Let's read on:

February 4th, 1954
My son has taken his first steps today! What a glorious occasion! Although his steps were shaky and without confidence (after all, children are many things but especially stupid), I see it only as a manner of time before his ability to walk solidifies and I will be able to affix a harness to my beautiful son and have him drag a cart around the house. What will I place in the cart? I do not know! The possibilities of fatherhood are endless!

March 29th, 1954
My wife feels the cart idea is ill conceived. Although I respect her opinion and realize that it is my husbandly duties to appreciate her input, she, regrettably, does not see the goldmine we are sitting on. But no matter! I just pray she does not find the secret lever by the bookcase.

June 18th, 1960
My son told me he wants to be a professional baseball player. Whether or not he means in the near future or when he grows up was not said. His current stature, like most kids his age, is not one of a professional athlete.

September 15th 1962
A new family has moved in the across the street, a newly wed couple with their first child due any time now. The husband has shown much interest in my baby-cart-harness. I may be able to trust this one.

January 19th 1965
It is buried in the yard.

May 20th, 1971
My son has graduated today. A wave of accomplishment washed over me as he walked across that stage. With that being said, I noticed his gradation gown was not terribly unlike a dress. This worries me.

*****

Jesus. I can safely say I know no more about my father than I did ten years ago. In fact, this journal may have caused me to unlearn things. And I’m not talking about on the subject of my father, either. I don’t think I know how to ride a bike anymore.

I don't think you understand how terrible this feels. It's like getting blue-balled for your entire life. But instead of sex, it's knowing who the fuck your dad is.

Christ, I don’t fucking know. Try:

Golfing with your dad
I saw that TV once. Probably works.

Going on a walk with him
Kinda lame, but whatever.

Just don’t wear matching sweaters.
That shit is retarded.

Goddamn. I don't want to even care anymore.

How do I properly use the Facebooks?

The Facebooks (or merely "Facebook," as it is often called by people with wallet chains and/or swoop haircuts) has quickly become the most popular social networking site in the United States and not without good reason. Facebook sets itself apart from other networking sites like MySpace and Friendster by allowing users to make comments, list interests and upload pictures, all with the very first blue/white color scheme. While millions and millions have effectively added their face to this book, newcomers need to be caught up on how to effectively use these new tools. Here are some things to keep in mind so you can get the most out of your Facebookings.

Use the News Feed
The News Feed allows you to keep tabs on all your friends and their goings-on, and will prove to be the most important tool in your new life on Facebook. While being able to look at comments that friends write for each other and and reading someone's updated favorite quotes seems completely indispensable (and believe me, it is), the real meat is that it allows you to spot Relationship Status updates.

Ever think that Craig guy was wrong for Becky? Keep your eyes on the feed and wait for the Beckyhammer to fall. Those few hours after the information hits Facebook is a critical period for you to make your move. It may seem sleazy, but rest assured that little broken heart icon next to the status change is like a green flag from God telling you to go for the throat.

Mr. Jones edit: I cannot tell if you Leon's use of the phrase "go for the throat" is literal or not. On one hand, he may be trying to communicate a sense of aggressiveness when pursuing a potential lady, but, on the other hand, he has been spending a lot of time bonding with these two Doberman that guard the junkyard by our office. On several occasions he has chased me out of the office trying to bite me and my only means of escape has come from scaling a chain link fence.

Also, stay the fuck away from Becky.

Interest Breakdown
What if there was a way to know everything you needed to know about someone long before you even dream of waiting outside their house with a burlap sack and a tire iron? Now you can with Facebook's interests section! Their favorite music, movies, TV shows, and books are divided for easily digested reading. Take note of these and know what hip band to name drop during AIM conversations/dates/her feeding time. You might think this is dishonest, but after looking at hundreds of teen and preteen Facebook pages, this section is always the same.

Below these listings is a section called "About Me." This section is completely ignorable because everything you need to know is organized from the top down. Let me walk you through:

1. Contact Info - How else are you going to find out her address?
2. Music - This will immediately tell you how she dresses/how easy she is.
3. TV shows - Only go with people who like American Idol. That makes sure they are predictable.
4. Movies - Is she smart and appreciative of art? If so, you probably want to pass. I use the following rhyme when determining if a girl is smart by her favorite movies: Taxi Driver? Non-Survivor! One Missed Call? Fun for all (all = you)!
5. Books - This reaffirms the point made in 4. If they have anything listed, be hesitant.
6. Favorite quote - Make sure it's about being a slut.
7. About me - No matter what page you are on, this is what you will read:
"I'm your regular girl who likes to hang out with friends and make out with cute boys. Other things I like include ribbons, bows, glitter (both the pretty thing and the movie), freedom, kittens and CRAZY LOCKER MONSTER (lulz BBF Ashlee). If you are over 45, please stop messaging me."

Analyze Pictures
Don't go by the thumbnail. The thumbnail can turn the trashiest of hambeasts into lookers. For example, here is a picture of a girl I was wooing once on Facebook.

I was overjoyed when she invited me over to her house, because it usually takes me two weeks of flirty text messages to figure out her parent's work schedule. Things took quite a turn when I showed up at her door and saw her as she really was:


At first I thought "Aw fuck, it's Krang," but it turns out that she's just Krang's cousin. I wanted to run away in fear, but I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her way of life. I stayed around and made small talk. I asked her how Krang was, and he's doing pretty good for himself, actually. He's moved on to better things since Shredder. He's now selling old baseball cards online, currently standing as the most successful baseball card seller in the Midwest! We chatted more over coffee about our shared favorite movies and books. Her rapier wit shone through as we shared embarrassing awkward moments like we've known each other for years. I was there for hours until I finally had to get going to pick up Mr. Jones from the airport, but at least I won't make the same mistake of meeting up with some fatass-brainstomach-motherfuck like her again.

Those with the Facebooks?

Join the revolution. Become a fan. Be somebody.

How do I effectively manage my office?

I will be blunt: management is tough. The best managers are equal parts inviting and feared. Like a golden retriever puppy with a bayonet.

I myself have had my fair amount of managerial experience, some good, some bad. During college (where I earned minors in both Jewish studies and Gay and studies) I was a RA for a dry dorm. I found myself at a moral crossroads. On one hand, I had to enforce the rules (as was in my job description) and on the other, I didn’t want to come across as a total tool shed. As would be expected, I inevitably had to inspect a noise complaint and found two roommates boisterously enjoying beverages of the spirituous nature.

Normally, I’m supposed to make them dump out their alcohol and write them up. Instead, I used my out-of-the-box thinking and let the gentlemen keep their alcohol and continue drinking on the condition one roommate assaulted the other with piano wire while I recorded a video for prosperity’s sake. Needless to say, the gentlemen kept their liquor and I found myself on the road to effectively employing the use of my authority. I think we all grew up a little that day.

I have since applied what I learned to an office setting, and the following two tactics should prove useful when seeking the line between friend and feared that all managers so desire:

Don’t bother with names.
Remembering names is hard, especially when you subconsciously refer to your subordinates as things like “sweaty stack of a pancakes” or “woman that clearly has nothing going for her.” As a manager, it would be career suicide to let any of these labels slip out during speech. Luckily, there are ways to combat this. After all, it hardly seems fair that your job is constantly on the line because a man with glandular problem is forcing you to be unable to use your favorite word to describe people: gelatinous.

Instead assign numbers. Numbers don’t offend anyone, because numeric values are, by nature, objective and without bias.

And don’t think this means you can’t have fun with your subordinate’s new number-names! For example, you can assign numbers based on people’s ages or, even better, their weight.

That’ll show that fat fuck.

Present the idea that the office is a family and family always comes first.
A sense of comradery is a must for any organization and there is no better sensation of comradery than a family.

Naturally, this means the family of each and every one of your employees just made your shit list. You cannot have them going home and sharing social bonds that are greater than the ones they feel at the office; to allow that to happen is synonymous with failure as a manager.

The easiest way to fix this problem en mass is to throw a company picnic which has a potato sack race. Offer to help your employees’ loved ones into their potato sacks in a secluded spot (a nearby heavily forested area, for example). Take this opportunity to do what has to be done. Although I will not explicitly state what that consists of, I will provide the helpful hint that it should end with them waking up in a river in a potato sack. As a manager, you should use your decision-making skills as to which river is best to dump someone that is trapped in a potato sack. Let’s face it, you didn’t get your job not knowing how to hide a body.

Advice Jackers: Body woes, Jokester foes, House-o's, and Kitten Bows

In the previous entry of advice jackers, Mr. Jones detailed you on the lengths in which I go to acquire letters that are en route to Dear Abby and other such advice gurus. I fear that he has taken my whimsical and sarcastic explanation as hard fact. I do not, in fact, train messenger pigeons to sweep down and steal your precious mail. Instead, I use them as weapons in my war against the postal system for folding an envelop of a very rare poster of Tom Selleck in prestine condition. Now our mahogany-enriched office is tainted by a distinct crease in the defining ornament of our workspace. Sometimes pigeons come back for mail, sometimes they don't. If you are Mark Albright and you are currently wondering what happened to this month's Maxim, I am sorry. If you are Grace Kelly and do not know when your Liberty Medical shipment of Wilford Brimley approved insulin will be coming in, please contact Mr. Brimley and ask for an emergency shipment posthaste.

This is what my pigeons look like, only with a lot more feral rage. Also, switchblades.

Anyhow, here are some people who did not ask for our advice, but will most definently be saved by it.

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DEAR ABBY,

I'm now a junior in high school and participate in numerous varsity sports. Even though I am a competitive athlete, I am still insecure about my body. I constantly worry about my size -- that I am too fat or too small. I am never content about my body. How can I build my self-confidence? -- LAS VEGAS TEEN

Dear LAS VEGAS PIG,

Maybe you are insecure about your body weight because everyone else on the team is in better shape than you? You can try to work and strain yourself further in order to catch up and be normal, OR you can get them to start slacking by replacing their water with motor oil. Not only is it not as nourishing as water, but it really adds the pounds, followed by vomiting more pounds up.

Also, they have schools in Vegas? Do they teach you hookers and blow and how to get mauled by a tiger?

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DEAR ABBY,

Last year my brother's daughter married a horrible man I'll call "Willard." Willard is rude, vulgar and makes constant sexual innuendos. The rest of the family have decided to have nothing to do with my brother's family because of it. We're afraid to invite them to gatherings and holidays for fear that Willard will come with the rest.

We have talked about it with my brother and his wife. They feel that because Willard has become part of their family, he should be accepted whether we like him or not. Another problem: My brother thinks Willard is "wonderful" and says nothing when he's out of line. Is it time for us to also cut them off, or do you have any other ideas? -- TORN IN TUCSON

Dear RIP TORN,

Maybe you should give him a second shot. He seems like a fun guy to hang out with. Sexual innuendos are always funny, especially when they are about your family members. Your brother has the right idea by calling him "wonderful." You were always the wet blanket of the family. Your brothers and sisters, they were always out having fun and scraping their knees. Not you. You were the tall awkward girl who fucking loved reading Redwall. Maybe you should hang out with Willard some more and learn how to not be a big ol' douche about everything? No wonder why Mom and Dad always liked your brother the most.

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DEAR ABBY,

Does a house "burn up" or "burn down"? -- HOT TOPIC IN ASHEBORO, N.C.

Dear HOT POCKET

If we are talking about houses, then the answer is simple: the house can only burn down. Anything else would defy some of the greatest physicists of our time, the Talking Heads.

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DEAR ABBY,

I dress my Siamese cat, "Belle," in clothes and pajamas. (Yes, they make apparel for cats.) I also push her around in a stroller. My friends think I'm crazy, but I consider Belle to be my daughter.

One time, a teenager came up to me as I was pushing Belle in her stroller and asked, "Where's the baby?" I told her that Belle was like my baby.

Is it nuts to treat a cat like a child? -- MOM OF A FUR KID IN N.Y.

Dear DELUDED,

You might be an embodiment of everything I hate. You know that people who dress up their pets are humiliating animals across the world, right? (We know they make clothes for cats, parentheticals make you look like a smartass.) And you also know that crazy cat ladies and crazy cat gentlemen use cats to fill a void that is gaping left from a lack of intimacy? Well, you got a bullseye and a hole-in-one by epically failing at two aspects of life at the same time.

Do you consider Belle your daughter because you pushed her small cat body through your vaginal canal? No? Then why is she your daughter? Because she understands you? And you understand her? And you know all she wants is more cat clothes?

Maybe you should try to tone it back a little. Don't use a carriage. That's just creepy. Instead, try a baby coffin.