In honor of those going home for the holidays and taking a friend we re-present BG’s New Adventure featuring BAD BOY! When this story was originally scripted in December 2000, the hijinks ensued over a holiday meal; When it was retooled last year for Lifetime Mobile, the story was shortened to five pages and the holiday angle was taken out so it would be readable at any time of year. Today we link to the finished story, AND for the first time anywhere I am sharing one of my original Breakup Girl scripts (below). Happy Thanksgiving!

Continue reading Bad Boy

or Read the original script!
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BG — though still, of course, on call — is curled up with Glee: The Christmas Album and some Jacques Torres Wicked Hot. Until she’s back to her regular schedule, please enjoy these holiday features!

• A Very Breakup Girl Christmas! Party tips, gift ideas, and more!

• Advice: Click here for the main archive, and then click through the 6 different “Holiday” columns.

• Comic: It’s A Wonderful Site!

Merry everything to all!

See you in 2011.

Love,

Breakup Girl

I hesitate a bit here, because I do not relish mocking other people’s misfortune. But ultimately, this song is really about finding new appreciation for what’s great about your partner. (RIGHT?) And anyway, it’s almost as catchy as Matisyahu’s “Miracle.” Speaking of which, happy lights-fest, if applicable! Now, where were we…

…to those who celebrate it — and to anyone else who needs it.

See you Friday!

Male marrieds: When your wife shot you that “Perhaps no sevenths on the pumpkin pie, yo,” glance, or suggested lite mayo for your next-day turkey sammich, then was the time to give thanks. Science says her health-centric concerns could help keep you from a premature date with that big, fluffy bowl of mashed potatoes in the sky.

A recent study by the Swedes finds that the more educated and intelligent the wife, the longer-living the hubs — regardless of his I.Q. or schooling. Why? Hypothetically: (her) higher education leads to increased enlightenment about nutritious, healthful eating, which she passes along to him. Let’s just hope most wives, Ivy League or no, are educated as to this: candied yam casserole, once a year, totally won’t kill you. (Rather, it makes you happy to be alive.)

I remember family reunions and Thanksgiving dinner tables that occasionally turned into the freaking Nuremberg trials when family members debated politics.

And weren’t we supposed to absorb those sorts of lessons and avoid repeating those mistakes in our own adult relationships?

Wait, or are we supposed to transcend the pettiness of politics in our quest for true love?

I’m so confused. But I now know this: I’m relieved, all partisanship aside, that I will not be present at The McCain Family Christmas.