Merry Craymas, RBD Family!

Hello, Kittens! Rhoda, Jacy, and yours truly wish you happy holidays. Though I’ll be checking in occasionally, I won’t be posting again until January because the Blake household is all a twitter during Christmas. Won’t Ryan Allis give poor Gilly a vacation?

Enjoy these Donkey classics and we’ll see you in 2018!


  1. It’s not really Christmas without the Bonky Donkey wrapping paper video.

    Happy merry everything! Greg bless us, every one.

  2. I always forget just how…grim the Lakeside Assisted Living Facility really looks. I swear the Donkey-Noggin-Bonking basement looks way more Comfy & Delightful than the upstairs.

    Wishing all the catladies the Comfiest & Delightfulest of Holibrays!

    • P.S.: As has been examined here before: who bought whom those supermarket Pyrex casseroles? And more generally, what kind of present is a pair of supermarket Pyrex casseroles, anyway?

        • They are so fucking cheap. The interior of that house looks like something a realtor couldn’t unload during the 1980s despite having dressed it up with a few sticks of crappy furniture. Just hideous.

      • I am not internalizing the snark, but am genuinely curious: is Pyrex not decent stuff? I get they sell it at some grocery stores, but it’s also at Macy’s and Bloomingdales. Is there a better quality, reasonably-priced brand out there for baking dishes and measuring cups? I have some Anchor stuff but the measurements on my five-year-old Anchor measuring cup are no longer the slightest bit visible on the glass, whereas my mom’s 25-year-old Pyrex measuring cup is still as legible as the day it was purchased. I’m a prolific home cook and baker so if there’s something better out there, I’d love to know about it.

          • Oh, Afghani. You have come so far. I’m impressed that you “get” this. My heart sings, my luxury caulk glistens, my north facing windows shine.

          • He brought lingerie to his daughter’s (transfer) college dorm room when she was 19 or 20, but he buys his long-suffering wife Pyrex for Christmas. Even I can figure this out…

        • Unless it’s something a wife requests, getting her baking supplies, vacuum cleaner, dishwasher for Christmas/Valentine’s Day/birthday is a strong unromantic statement. Or total thoughtlessness.

          But there’s always the chance Robin asked for this. That family ain’t right in the head

        • I think Pyrex, in general, is fine. It’s an item you grab at Target when you need an extra baking dish. For Christmas, I think it’s a lackluster gift.

          Tip: look for vintage Pyrex on eBay, the formula is better. They changed the glass composition at some point and now it’s prone to shattering. Your mom’s measuring cup should be nearly indestructible.

          • The shattering happened to me! Blew up like a bomb, leaving tiny shards of Pyrex everywhere, in every nook and cranny of the kitchen, not to mention in the lasagne. Luckily, I wear glasses so was not injured.

            I called the Pyrex people and they said it happened because I took the pan out of the oven and placed it on top of the gas stove burner to cool. Apparently you’re not supposed to do that with the new formula (and I believe there’s a warning about this in the fine print).

            For my trouble, the Pyrex people sent me a huge box of just about everything in the Pyrex line, plus an entire set of Corning Ware. I still prefer my grandmother’s Pyrex baking dishes, but still–that’s some pretty great customer service.

  3. I wonder if they could afford bettee furniture and proper caulk if they didn’t blow all their dough on their 36 year old layabout money drain.

  4. I was just thinking about the fact that if Julia hadn’t gone full woo she’d probably be pretending she knew all about cryptocurrencies so that she could bag a newly minted bitcoin millionaire.

  5. On Christmas, the worst person in the world posted a lure for one of her most disgusting scams – how to get your hands on your parents’ retirement savings – while invoking Christ’s message of love and forgiveness. There’s a special place in hell for Skankatron 3000B.

    Ali Shanti
    22 hrs ·
    If you are at home with family today and experiencing challenge or conflict between the generations, I want to hear about it for an article I am writing about healing the inter-generational divide.

    If you feel comfortable sharing publicly, please post about the nature of your familial challenges here in the comments. What brings it on? How do you handle it? How do your parents or grandparents handle it? What do you wish were different?

    If you would prefer to discuss in a private group, join the group here:

    If you would prefer to message me directly, please do. But also LMK if you do because many messages go to my “other” folder that I have to go find as they don’t pop up automated.

    Thanks so much for contributing to this body of work around Family Wealth, meaningful inheritance and true legacy.

    And, Merry Christmas! If you are in struggle today, remember Christ’s true message of love and forgiveness, and start by offering that to yourself. <3

      • She even pimps out her son and her decrepit ex-husband on the FB page for this genuinely nasty long con.

    • Have I got this right? I refuse to join their group.

      “If you’re fighting with your ageing parents over the holidays, ask them when they’re planning to downsize and transfer you their assets! That will show them!”

      This creature and her ilk are repulsive, disgusting lowlives.

      • Yep, because nothing soothes over family discord like demanding your retired parents’ last dollars so you can fuck around at dirt festivals and drop acid without the pesky encumbrance of gainful employment.

      • i still recall the “mom, this tiny house would be ideal for you” comment she posted. good on her parents for holding onto their hard-earned retirement money.

        • You know, as bad as that was, I think the time she gave her very slender mother La Flimme-Flamme’s shitty “pleasurable weight loss” book was even worse.

    • How Shanti’s mom hasn’t disowned her yet is beyond belief. Sadly, I suspect that since Ali has mentioned her dad was a grifter (or something similar) , her mom just accepts this a normal behavior.

  6. First pic: She’s wearing one of Mary’s testicle bags, right?

    Second pic: Trying to suck the breath out of her baby brother.

    Third pic: Jack is thinking “My dad thought he had it bad at the Hanoi Hilton? Try getting away from this donkey once she’s got her claws in you”

    Fourth pic: She can’t even get a guy that good these days

    Sixth pic: Making a deal with the devil. That’s how she got her microfame. Did she even know that Denton is gay, because it looks like she’s trying to razzledazzle him with her mad seduction skillz

    Eighth pic: Christmas in a North Korean prison wouldn’t be this grim. Or Spartan

  7. I just stopped by to thank everyone here in the basement for the side-splitting, tears-rolling laughs, the recommendations and good taste in all things from reads to etiquette and most of all, the kindness and support this past fall. It was a dark time after my catman lost his job in the middle of IVF, and a week later, my beloved girl Bunny was killed and my son’s pup critically injured.

    Someone here once said, “Loss builds, and unless you deal with it, it’ll haunt you.” I experienced a lot of trauma in my life, especially as a child, but nothing really compared to losing that little white Scottie dog. She was the love of my life, my inner child that I rescued right off the streets, as so many others did for me when I was young. I thought for a bit after we first lost her that I might actually die from the ache of it, as though a broken heart was a real diagnosis. But, here I am, three months, 20 days and 22 hours later. Somehow I healed without bleeding out. I came here a lot and laughed in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. I even posted a bit. I deleted more comments before posting than I actually posted, but those I did post got responses that got me through the hardest parts of grieving and helped me shake the shame of being so torn up over a little dog.

    Recently, was given a little grey poodle/schnauzer mix who has been abused. She has a little beard that gets wet when she drinks just like Bunny. She’s weird as can be and a bit growly and snappy when touched or picked up, unless she asks to be. She hates most people, but not me. And I adore her. My huscat has had a few second interviews. We expect an offer by second week of January. I’d wanted a baby girl from IVF. Instead, I got a fuzzy one that looks like an Ewok and makes me smile out loud.

    (But, thank you, especially to the anonymous cat lady who helped us pay so much of my son’s pup’s vet bill. She recovered and only has a small dent in her head to show for fighting a car and living to tell. It’s kind of distinguishing. You basement dwellers are as good as health insurance in tough times and whole lot cheaper)

    • I love those little square poodle/schnauzer muzzles and quizzical eyebrows. Your new little pup sounds perfect. Animals are the best.

      • Next to her little beard, her eyes are her best feature. Just adorable. I clipped her when she first arrived. Then, her hair grew out. I didn’t want to clip her in the middle of winter, so I just trimmed the hair around her eyes with kitchen scissors. I can see her sweet eyes now, but she looks like a little girl that tried cutting her own bangs.

        • Dogs are angels from heaven, even when they’re weird and jumpy and growly. My adopted stray cat is in my lap right now, purring her little heart out. Then I’ll reach for my tea and she’ll launch herself straight in the air, leaving tracks on my thighs from her back claws, because THIS is the time that I’m actually reaching for a torture implement or am going to take her to the pound.

          Then she’ll creep back into my lap and curl up, purring, until the next time I move a muscle.

          • Awww, these stories get me in my cold, black heart.
            Curling Irons, I’m so sorry you lost your beloved girl. I know I am going to be inconsolable when my cat leaves, he’s my everything. Literally.

            they really are fur-angels and we’re so lucky to have them for the short time we do.

          • They are. The fur littles are life’s greatest gift. I miss Bun dearly. I still can’t do radio for fear of a scene in which I Have Loved You For 1000 Years comes on, and I have to pull the car over to avoid a pile-up. But, all and all, I’m on the mend. This grumpy Berber carpet of a snoodle helps. Love for her quirky ways grows right through the hole Bunny left and kind of sews it up in an uneven, messy but holding strong way. I have a couple friends doing 365 days of beauty blogging, journaling keeping track of the good kind of diary. I love the thought, but I would only ruin it. Everyday would just be fur babehs on repeat, all year long, kind of like my social media looks now. I’m a 40 year old woman who posts nearly nothing but pets. But, I’m not ashamed. Even now, this little Ewok/wereracoon is sliding down my pillow upside down to position herself better for tummy rubs.

  8. Thank you (deep bow, goddess!) for the holiday Derpin! Those were the days, before Donk fucked up that relationship… I naively hoped that I might get a Donk-Derpin wedding, with Derpin dancing down the aisle in a pink tutu and Donk begging him to pick her up.

  9. I’m gonna go OT again, basement. One of you magnificent catladies told a story about helping a woman in a homeless shelter clean her ragged clothes, so that she could hold onto those few things that were hers in the world (I don’t remember who or when; I’ve been rereading the archives).

    Anyway, I thought of that story and so I offered up my sewing machine at the cold-weather shelter where my mancat and I volunteer. It’s been well below freezing here, but our guests of course want to hold onto their clothes, no matter how torn or tattered. So being able to mend them was a huge help. I don’t know why I never thought of doing this before when people have refused new clothing. Anyway, thank you, whoever told this story; it helped us be better able to treat our guests with the dignity they deserve.

    • That was me. I did no more than listen to what our guest was actually saying. We had plently of new gear, but until I promised to clean her things and canvas bag and bring them back to her immediately, she’d have none of it. Bless you for meeting people where they are and helping them from there, instead of making them come to where you want them to start.

    • The editor’s notes are PRICELESS.

      Especially [A406]: “This is not the time or place for another black-dick joke”

      • Did you see the table of contents?
        Ever single chapter ends with “me”
        This twat is such a professional victim it’s not even funny.

    • I loved seeing the point where the editor’s control snapped. He stopped trying to explain himself and just resorted to typing ‘this never happened’ and ‘not true’ and ‘DELETE UGH’.

      • Kind of depressing and demoralizing to realize that editors at major publishing houses somehow decided to give contracts to the likes of Donkey and Milo.

    • No idea. She’s doing her best to obscure her carbon footprint, but I’m sure we’ll hear something.

  10. OT: Kc Baker always leaves me in stitches! In this nine-minute vid, the raging narcissist, complete with porn star eyelashes and gleaming veneers, blithers on about leaving her investment banking job and staying with her cousins on the upper west side while experiencing “deep ecstasy and bliss in her body” for no apparent reason. Everyone thought she was nuts, but Kc knew better, changed her name and became a “sacred sensuality meditation teacher” whose work is recognized around the world. Yeah, sure. The grifter than randomly ties all this into the #metoo movement. No segue. Ride the latest media spasm, Kc!

    • BTW, I’ve stopped getting my eye pelts done. Mine looked natural (IMHO), but the nagging thought that I might resemble Donk, Ali Scamti, or KC Faker made me doubt my own sanity.

    • Another over privileged woo talking about being “broke”. Bitch, you do not know broke. You had a safety net, you had family who could take in your freeloading ass. You didn’t have to worry about when your next meal would be coming or about having to choose between sleeping on the street or in a shelter. That’s broke. You left a job you couldn’t hack and went on a vacation and had a warm, soft place to land. Do not lecture us on broke. I don’t know broke either and I would never use it as casually as this fraud.

      I really cannot with these woos right now.

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