Playa's Gonna Play, J-Dater's Gonna Hate

Mindel has left the wild and created a J-Date account. J-Date is the Jew version of Match.com, for you goys out there who are unfamiliar. That's right. After 24 years of being single (with a whole lot of young shmucky boyfriends in between), mamacita is ready to find some Jew love.

Basically, Mindel pays a monthly membership fee and I get stuck searching for potential booty candidates...ahem...I mean boyfriends. Gross. Why? Well, she still hasn't figured out this whole internet fad and adds ".com" to every term she searches on Google. So, I have to reply to the e-mails, review the profiles, and find someone who doesn't look like Charles Manson. Move over Patti Stanger, a new matchmaking bitch is in town. Don't make me snap my fingers in a J formation.

After a lot of filtering, my mom (I) exchanged numbers with a little hottiepotottie. Here is how their first and last conversation went:

Jew Man: Hi.
Mindel: Hi.
Jew Man: So, if I can't see you for a couple of days, would you have phone sex with me?
Mindel: Are you fucking kidding me?

Fine. There was some more conversation in between all of that, but, I mean, that's the only part that really matters. Of course, I get the angry phone call from mom, "Who the hell are you setting me up with?!" Ummm, we'll gettem next time slugger?

P.S. I know you are so stoked that Mindel joined J-Date because now you get to hear about all of her hot messes.

What Would Moses Do?

No bread for a week. Whatevs. I like fruit and meat more, bitches. What gets me is that incredibly annoying feeling of not being allowed to eat something. You know? Like the bread is standing in a corner going "Neener, neener, neener!" Yep. Exactly like the photo on the left.

Nonetheless, Passover is quite possibly the best holiday ever. Moses is awesome and the story of Passover is uh-mazing. Hello?! A man parted a sea and dished out hella plagues. Balla. Every time I think of Moses, I think of a Jewish Rambo with robes. C'mon, take a second. Ding. Oh yeah, you totally see it now. All I know is that if I ever crossed paths with him, I would not want to get on his bad side. I would also ask for a picture, so I could put it on my fridge.

Most awesome part about Passover is the celebration. Get 10 Jews in a room, throw in a pound of brisket, Matzah, and family drama...you get the Jewish version of Jersey Shore. Everyone is stuffing their face like they were feeding Octomom. Seconds are for wimps. Sixths equals status. Then there is the "Find the Missing Matzah" bit. Doesn't matter how old you are, you are push'n babies and Ghandi out of your way to be the one who finds that un-leavened piece of cardboard. Last, there are the family fights. It's always between a blood related family member and the goy that someone in the family married. The best part is that you never have to be a part of it. You can just sit back, watch the show, and then talk about it later pretending you were the neutral aspect that ended the fight. Jews love taking credit where it doesn't belong. Retract that statement. Jews in my family love taking credit where it doesn't belong. So, on behalf of my fellow Jews, Happy Passover, Bitches.