Bad Gifts, The Christmas Spirit and What happens at a Holiday Party…stays there…right?

White Elephant, Chinese Christmas, Gag gift, re-gifting parties are always a great time…

I always wanted to be a “good-gifter”, since I know what being the victim of a bad gift feels like.

gifts

In regards to gifts, as I was growing up I used to get the worst Christmas gifts and these continued into my adulthood from my grandparents or aunt.  Whatever it was, I usually received the pink one and my sister, the blue one.

Some of my favorite worst gifts were in my teenage years….

There was a strange flannel nightgown with little flowers all over it, and resembled something from, the TV show, “Little house on the prairie.”

Peter-Pan-Flannel-Nightgown-Lanz-Wedgewood-Roses-CL563687-167-B

Another was white ceramic cat that had pink rabbit fur glued to it, always makes me laugh remembering opening these gifts and I’m sure that my face said it all.

I finally started putting their gifts to the side and allowing my sister to open them first. One year, my sister opened a ring gift box first and it was a beautiful opal setting and showing it to us. I’m thinking… could they have possibly gotten this right? Then, I open my ring box to see a pearl ring. You’re thinking, wow…that is a nice gift, right? Yeah, well…my pearl was the size of an eyeball. It was something out of a costume bin or a gumball machine and it was hilarious, probably not to me at the time, but I did love showing it to people as they looked horrified.

pearl ring

As I got older, the gifts became more awkward.

When I was in my 30’s, I will never forget that I received a package of what appeared to be underwear. I thought that was odd enough, but this was a leopard print netting mesh panty set with top. Umm….. Ok. What the hell is this?  Did they send me a nighty?

Odd thing about it, was that they didn’t have a crotch?! My grandmother sent me crotch less panties?? I gave these to goodwill with a laugh wondering who would buy them at Goodwill.

leopard nightycrotchless panties

Then, another year, I received a strange lamp that I recall re-gifting and taking to a White Elephant gift exchange party… If I recall, someone actually fought over the ugly lamp. It was a crazy leopard lampshade thing.

Another time, my two close guy friends in high school once bought me a sweater for Christmas. It was “hands down” the ugliest sweater that I have ever owned.  I recall that it was a blend of light brown, teal, purple, & black that I’d ever seen. However, since they were so proud of it, I had to act like I loved it and also wear it.

Then, I have had boyfriends give me some crazy things as well, some of which I wondered who they were shopping for when I opened them. Awful earrings, one gave me, I recall Christmas morning opening them and being so disappointed.  There were so many funny gifts, one guy I dated bought me a DVD once, and I was like, “What is this? Who buys me a $10 DVD?” and I think that I’d bought him the DVD player. Umm, typical of my dating life… When it comes to gifts from people you are dating, I have learned that it’s better to just tell them what to buy you.

In my family, we always have a tradition on Christmas Eve with our friends to have a “White Elephant” party. They are generally awfully funny gifts that we intentionally buy for laughter, shock value and are usually hilarious. I must explain that this is one of the best events all year long, as we plan and prepare for this sometimes months in advance. While others show up with something normal or without a gift at all, the original members of the family tradition and friends always show up prepared for fun. My mother always has an extra gift or two wrapped, just incase someone shows up unprepared.

The funniest part about these parties is when someone new comes and they bring a nice gift and don’t necessarily understand the concept of a “gag gift” and bring something good, that you would actually want, yet they receive one of the funnier gifts.

I’ve seen the likes of a gift bag containing Peanut Butter, Jelly and a loaf of bread, singing stuffed animals, sexy toys, literally jingle bells men’s jock straps, and one year there was the set of men’s thongs that were furry and looked like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer with bells and all, bottles of booze, children’s toys, some of my favorites were from the “As Seen On TV” aisle or the Infomercial gifts. I think that I still have the “Shake Weight” somewhere around here…it’s that arm weight dumb bell thing, that looks like you’re doing something sexual jerking your arms up and down to tone them.

shake weight

Others were Chia Pets, The Clapper, Flow bee, the thigh master, and such.  The funnier part of these gifts is that some are so funny that they’re recycled year after year…like the infamous “Hank Williams” that sung and after a few years, he was finally retired.

obama chiafanny bank

I personally favored the booze gifts; however, as I was always traveling, I was unable to take the bottles on the plane, so it always seemed like we were trying to drink it down before I flew home.

So, as I prepared to go to another party like this a few years ago, I found the classic gift to bring…The neck massager. It was perfectly perverse, as you could imagine it was shaped like a “C” and a woman could actually sit on it for vibration. I think to myself, wow… this is perfect. Under $15 and will be a classic terrible gift. My friend that I was going with said that they understood the concept and wrapped a gift in a bag and away we go.

The party gets along with a lot of drinking, booze, there is some food…we’re all having a blast, they even have karaoke set up in the living room…after an hour or two, it’s time for the gift exchange. By now, we’re all too drunk to understand some of the rule’s, or they’re being made up as we go.

So, the game begins, people are picking, swapping gifts, there is a bottle of booze, a pocket vibrator with some lubricant in a stocking…it’s hilarious, someone opens a red velvet thong set for a man with white trim and yes, it’s fought over…next thing you know my friend grabs it and is running around with these over his jeans.

santa thong

Finally, someone picks my neck massager, it’s an immediate hit, it’s immediately being ridden like a bull, and the rest of the party was a blur as I think that neither of us ended up parting with any of them…but woke up with a terrible hangover and calling each other trying to recap the night.

Later that afternoon, I open my purse to find something and find the Santa inspired men’s thong and a pocket rocket vibrator..hahaha and I laugh to myself… I finally left with the good gift!! How in the hell did these get here? I can’t wait to re-gift these again…the thong, not the vibrator.

Then, I find a video on my phone of my friends singing, “Hit me with your best shot!” ….One wearing the Santa thong, another in a green velvet jingle bells thong, and the third figured out how to straddle the neck massager and connect it to them…as he is holding a male blow up doll.

karaoke girl

My friend later admits that he found the blow up doll in his entry of his apartment and had also pissed himself and vomited somewhere, as there were evidence on his clothes, along with a bag from Mc Donalds…we laughed so hard about him walking passed his doorman with that bag of food and a blow up man doll.

blowup doll

He never told me what he did with it, and I erased that video, as I never wanted to view it again…it was THAT bad.

This was such a fun night.

Classic Christmas tale.

Bad Choices…always make Good Stories…

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I recently found myself entering a Sex Club or Sex Party in New York City.  This is not a typical Saturday night for me. No, I’m not a Swinger. I’ve never had a threesome; I’m actually extremely loyal and very committed and monogamous when I’m involved with someone. I’m not addicted to sex and I don’t watch porn. However, I’m no prude, I have always been adventurous in a normal way, but nothing could be classified as strange or close to that category.

You see, I met up with a friend, a guy that I dated briefly- turned just friend and after we had a few glasses of wine, he talked me into going to another bar with him. He knew me all too well and knew that I’d be open to an adventure, so he asked me earlier in the week if I’d go to a party with him, and then it turned into a “Couples Party”, then “Swinger club”, after telling him that I was not comfortable going earlier in the day, we ended up just meeting for some drinks and catching up. After a few drinks and sharing our photos and stories of the past year with one another, he told me about the club that he was talking about and that he’d been there before with an ex and it was “interesting people watching and a good story”. So, being the adventurous one that I am, we took a walk in search of a bar/party. After walking around midtown, we walk by a building and as we spied some rather suspicious/sketchy people entering into the building and getting in the elevator, he tells me that it’s the place. This is Swingers Bar that he told me about. The place is BYOB, so we go get a six pack of beer and I already lay down the rules that I am under no circumstances getting naked or walking about in my lingerie in front of people.. He tells me that I can wear a robe, if we get that far; however, we will just hang out in the bar area first to “people watch”, meet a few others and if we are comfortable…then, “go with it, but only if I’m comfortable.” otherwise, we just have some beers in the bar area and leave.

This is where the adventure begins…or the lack there of one.

It’s in the low 40’s temperature wise and I am freezing usually, but while we walk, I am sweating monkey balls in anticipation for the evening, plus I’m not convinced that this is something that I’m game to experience right now, I’m not feeling too sexy…I have some weight to lose (after steroids in spinal injections and etc) and my confidence is not what it once was. So we walk to the closest deli, we debate on the brand of beer that we’re buying and he pays for it. I make small talk with the guys behind the counter selling some herbal liquid ginger concoctions displayed all over the counter…to help with the nervous energy that I’ve got at present in the circumstances ahead.

When you move to New York City, people tell you about the terrors of apartment hunting, weather, cost of living, people and etc., but no one prepares you for surviving a Sex Party, which is not uncommon here. There are all varieties of these, some like the movie’s that you’re imagining to lower level Sex Club’s that cost a couple $100-1000+ entry and they have buffets, BYOB, different lounge areas, dance floors, acts, locker rooms, sex room’s where all must be naked and or in lingerie and the men get to wear robe’s… you get the picture. No single men allowed, single women are and couples. The men like watching “girl on girl” action, or in some of these clubs the couples actually go off together to make out, fuck, suck or heavy touching in the corners…I hear that some parties couples do swing and swap partners as well.

So, we have the six pack of beer and walk towards the place and have to walk through a crowd of people waiting to get into a club for bridal parties and etc. As we enter the building, I’m nervous…he’s leading. We get into the elevator and I’m nervous as all hell, but we go to the floor that the club is on. However, we are talking about the other names of the clubs in the building, one being “E E Club” and we are speculating what that could be as well. Then, the elevator doors open and my friend is quite tall; he’s over 6 ft and his head is almost hitting the ceiling. The doors open to a 1980’s décor and there are several naked mannequins draped in beads with a few disco ball’s hanging and weird lighting and Christmas type lights on the backdrop, then a door with a buzzer. We enter and behind the counter is a woman…. There are security cameras as well watching the elevator. Lovely.

I stand back and let my friend lead the way and do all of the talking. First we are greeted, the woman asks if we are member’s and tells us it’s a private party this evening and unfortunately, we cannot come in tonight, but urges us to come back the following week. She tells us that Friday’s are especially open, since most have private events on Saturdays. Meanwhile, I’m standing a few feet behind him and taking in the scenery and experience.  There are signs on the counter that say,” No jeans, no tennis shoes and etc.”, which is interesting as basically, since the ultimate goal here is to remove the clothes that you come in anyways, so what does that matter?

Since they have a private event, It offers me some serious relief as I’m realizing that even with the open mind that I have, this is not the time/night for this to be experienced. As my partner in crime continues speaking with the woman, I’m watching people come out of the elevator to be greeted by a man. The man, who obviously works there or is the host for the party looks at me in a most devious manner up and down and smiles at me like a Cheshire cat. He’s greeting couples of all sorts most that are toting bags for changing clothes, I’m guessing and imagine Euro trash looking, or older couples, an older man, younger woman very much throwback’s from a different time, but you get the point. As we walk out to leave and catch the elevator, another couple steps into the lobby from the elevator and we notice two men in leather in the elevator waiting. This is when I ask, “Hey, do you know what the E E Club is?” and the reply is, “Umm… No, I don’t”; however, that was obviously where they were heading. This is funnier because it’s 11pm on a Saturday evening…haha.

After the adventure, we catch a taxi back to my place, drink the beer and have a very PG rated evening on my sofa watching a movie, then he passed out on the sofa and I, was alone in my bed, well…with my cat.  🙂

The next morning, I looked up the “E E Club” and it was a sex club for gay men only…bath house of sorts and we both had a good laugh before he left for home and we were making sly jokes about the whole experience and evening.

Bad Choices…always make for Good Stories…

What good memories

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