What's up friends and enemies?

Thanks for joining me once again for lucky issue #13. I'm sure by now you're in the throes of the pre-Thanksgiving festivities, so I hope this issue will provide you a brief respite from those passive-aggressive comments your mom is already making about your life choices.

Of course you've already subscribed to IDBH because you're smart, but it'd be a good idea now to sign up all of your friends and relatives to get my newsletter too. Just click the button below and put in their email address—I'm sure they'll be thrilled. It is the season of giving, is it not? It's certainly a better gift than whatever bullshit your Aunt Doris is planning on giving you this year.

Here's what's going on:

From The Blog

Is there a more terrifying question for a husband to hear than "Do you notice anything about me?" If there is, I haven't heard it. This week's post recounts my tortuous journey of trying to answer that unanswerable question.

Read I SPY here.

From The Prompt

One of the only social things I was allowed to do when I was in high school was go to church events, so I made the most of it by trying to pick up girls.

Usually I'm embarrassed to read my essays after they're done, but this is one I'm really proud of.

This story's publication also resulted in my childhood friend, Jeff, sending me some truly gruesome photos of me at church camp.

I know what you're thinking. Is it me you're looking at, or Charles Bukowski and his harem?

Read HOLY MOLY here.

Social Media Ad of the Week

Listen, I know it's been almost a month since the Phillies lost the World Series to the Astros. I've made peace with it. I wasn't even going to bring it up. But last week, Instagram had to go and twist the goddamn knife.

Astros themed alcohol? My only love, sprung from my only hate.

Why are we pretending Houston is city worth its own line of booze? It feels like a wet fart year-round, the barbecue is far inferior to other regions, and the most popular phrase it's associated with is "...we have a problem." Everyone knows the only good things that have ever come out of Houston are Wes Anderson and that fast-talking hottie Rory Gilmore. Prove me wrong.

My (Least) Favorite Things

Watch: Ok, I'm not trying to kick off the holiday season with negativity, but you know what I watched two weekends ago? My neighbors putting up their fucking Christmas lights.

What they fail to realize is that by putting Christmas decorations up this early, they're starting the clock for the whole goddamn neighborhood. Now I'm going to be looking at every house on the block trying to gauge when the last possible day for me to put these things up without looking like I don't understand my role as cul de sac dad.

This is the sort of suburban hate crimes that they should make Netflix documentaries about. Stop the seasonal creep, or before we know it we'll be taking Mariah Carey out of her cryogenic chamber in June.

Sam Eats Spicy Snacks

Up this week is a bag of Zapp's New Orleans Kettle Style VooDoo Heat. These guys had the deck stacked against them from the jump, because I think kettle chips are too crunchy, and I've had it out for New Orleans ever since Jeremy Shockey ran all over the Eagles defense in the mid-2000s.

These were so bad, I threw out 3/4 of the bag. They tasted like Lil' Wayne's dreadlocks.

It's clear to me that while New Orleans might throw a sick Mardi Gras party, they can't build levees and they sure as hell can't make spicy chips.

Have a suggestion for a spicy snack? Hit me up!

Broad Street Briefs

How incredible is Nick Sirianni? After only his second year at the helm, he's led the Birds to a 9-1 record. The last two times we did that through 10 weeks, we went to the Big Dance. Just sayin...

Coaching acumen aside, the thing I like the most about this guy is that he LOVES to chirp.

He audibly yelled "What the fuck?" at Jets head coach Robert Saleh after defenders put a late hit on Jalen Hurts during preseason. He said "that's game, fuck you" to a pack of VERY LARGE Dallas Cowboys back in September, and just this past weekend, he went to the bleachers and started TALKING SHIT TO COLTS FANS.

I guess you can make an argument it's unprofessional, but I like the fire. I'd rather have a coach yelling the F word at fans than staring at Andy Reid's walrus ass for 60 minutes.

Obligatory Kid Pic

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