Category Archives: Monica Duncan, Professional Bad News Breaker

Monica Duncan, Professional Bad News Breaker: Top Ten Reasons Why Santa Claus is Not Real


By: Monica Duncan, Professional Bad News Breaker

Hello 3.5 readers.  I’m Monica Duncan and when people have bad news they can’t bear to break, they call me to do the dirty work for them.  My highlights include:

  • Informing all 57 girlfriends dating a Milwaukee bartender, Fred Sistack (none of the girls knew about each other) that they may have a long laundry list of diseases, including, but not limited to: herpes, the clap, anal warts, syphilis, crotch rot, vaginal gangrene, and eternal butt itch.  Fred has been paying off my services on a monthly installment plan for the past twelve years.
  • I was the one who told Saddam Hussein that he was about to be pulled out of his hidey hole.  He was very disappointed about it, but he was glad to get a shave.
  • In the 1990s, I told John Wayne Bobbitt that that numb feeling he felt in his groin was due to the fact that his wife had removed his penis with the aid of a knife.  Remember people, if you ever have to tell someone their penis was cut off, always hire a professional bad news breaker to tell them.  You don’t want a man to find out his junk is gone when he reaches for it only to find it is not there.

Alas, I am now here to break some bad news to the children of the world – Santa Claus does not exist.

Nope, he does not exist at all.

Yikes, what bored people you Christians are.  You have a holiday based on the idea that Jesus was the Son of God (umm…well, OK nevermind I’ll talk about that in another column) and that still doesn’t keep your attention.  You still need a tale about a fat man who brings presents.

Let me dispel the many inaccuracies:

#1 – No one likes fat people. 

Even fat people don’t like fat people.  It is impossible for a real fat man to be loved by the entire world, ergo, a universally beloved fat man could only exist as a fictional character.  If Santa were real, it would not matter how many good deeds he did.  He could bring everyone toys, cash money, cures for AIDS and cancer, homes for the poor and everyone would still be all like, “Fuck you, you fat fuck, lose some weight!”  I’m sorry, but it’s true.  You know it’s true.  Think about the nicest fat person you know.  Maybe there was some fat person who did you a good turn, helped you out in life.  Maybe this fat person paid your rent one month to keep you off the street.  Maybe this fat person saved your life.  Maybe this fat person recommended you for a job when you were down on your luck.  You still called that person a fat fuck behind his/her back, didn’t you?  You couldn’t help it.  No one likes a fatty, no matter how nice the fatty is.

#2 – It is not possible for a fat fuck to squeeze down your chimney.

Your fat Aunt Edna knocks shit down with her fat ass because she’s so fat she doesn’t think she’s bumping into things but you think a fat fuck in a red suit can squeeze his fat ass down every chimney in the world?  Bitch, please.

#3 – Reindeer can’t fly.

Have you ever seen a non-winged animal fly?  Stop being stupid.  Oh, and Rudolph’s nose is red because he hits the sauce…hard.  At least he would if he existed, but he doesn’t.

#4 – Why do bad kids get presents?

Kids have pretty short attention spans.  A parent says, “Be good or Santa won’t bring you any shit!” and then the kid will be good for five minutes and then forget and be naughty again.  If Santa really has a naughty and nice list, he must not be paying attention to it, because everyone knows at least one little shit who is making his parents’ lives miserable and yet this little monster is getting ridiculous amounts of loot under the tree every year.

#5 – Why doesn’t Santa give out gift certificates?

You know what?  It is actually, theoretically, possible for every kid in the world to be given one gift a night.  A cash gift.  If you’re Santa, why would you go riding your fat asss around the globe when you can just get one of your elves to click a button on a computer and email every kid a toy store gift certificate?

That’s a lot, mind you, but hey, one of these rich pricks might actually be able to become a real, live Santa Claus.

I don’t know.  Do the math and tell me if it’s possible, nerds.  Estimate how many Christian kids in the world x how much and factor in if there’s anyone that rich.  Even so, I bet that person couldn’t do it every year.  It would have to be a one cent gift certificate.

However, we aren’t talking about the average billionaire.  We’re talking Santa Claus.  If that fat fuck can fly around the world in a night, then surely he could pop a redeem code for 1,000 bucks to every kid’s inbox and then Amazon could do the rest.

Seriously.  Bezos would have taken over Santa’s operation by now.  Maybe he already has.  You parents out there, where’d you kid those kids you’re slapping the fat man’s name on?  A site that starts with “A” am I right?

#6 – Your parents slap Santa’s name on gifts.

They work hard all year, selling their souls to employers who provide them no personal satisfaction, then slap a fictional fat man’s name on the gifts bought with the proceeds of their slave labor just to make your childish fantasies come true.  God, you little brats make me want to puke.  Somebody staple my uterus shut.

#7 – Santa could never be married.

Because, remember, no one likes a fat fuck, even a bitch as fat as Mrs. Claus is dreaming about losing weight and getting spit roasted by a duo of hunky male dancers.

#8 – Elves aren’t real.

You think any large group of workers would work that much for free…without organizing a union?  Bitch, please.

#9 – Intellectual property

You really think Bill Gates wouldn’t be suing Santa into oblivion for giving out free X-Boxes?

#10 – It’s impossible to fly around the world in one night.

Have you seen all the cell phone shot videos on the news lately?  People can’t fly across the country without some crazy ass fight breaking out and delaying the flight, but you think a fat man can fly around the world and stop at every house in one night?


Sorry to break it to you, kids, but Santa isn’t real.  Was it hard for me to tell you this and ruin your childhoods?  No.  Because I’m a professional news breaker.  This is what I do.

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How to Tell Your Children Their Parents Are Getting Divorced


By: Monica Duncan, Professional Bad News Breaker

Hi 3.5 readers.  I’m Monica Duncan and I hate to break it to you, but I am the best when it comes to breaking bad news.  That may be due to the fact that there really isn’t anyone else in the professional bad news breaker game, but it’s a burgeoning field and unlike BQB’s blog readership, I expect it to grow substantially by 2020.

I’ve broken some of the worst news in history:

  • In the 1990s, I told Al Cowlings that OJ needed a ride.  I was only a kid at the time, so it was one of my very first bad news breaks.
  • I was the one who had to tell Obama that oil rig in the Gulf would just NOT stop chugging oil into the sea.
  • I told the Winklevoss twins that their friend Mark started a new website.
  • I had to break it to John McCain that just because Sarah Palin was the governor of Alaska doesn’t mean she’s a gift speaker.
  • I told Brad and Angelina they didn’t like each other anymore.  They would have not figured it out for another 20 years had I not intervened.

And today, I’m here to tell you how to tell your kids that you and your spouse are getting divorced.

So…you and your better half are calling it kaputs, overs-ville, adios, bye-bye, sayanora, see you later.

Who will tell the children?  Those lovable cherubs you brought into the world love you both.  This news will shatter their world and frankly, destroy their little lives, and may even have negative ramifications for their future.

Here are some things to do:

#1 – Be Sure To Tell Them This Was Entirely THEIR Fault

Honesty is always the best policy and divorces are no different.  Sit Junior down and explain it all to him:

  • Your mother works all day and is exhausted when she comes home.
  • We told you we don’t remember how many Goddamned times to pick up your toys and clean up your room but you just wouldn’t do it you selfish little jackass.
  • Despite her exhaustion, Mommy had to spend her evenings cleaning the house you wrecked and were too lazy to clean up.
  • Mommy was so tired after that she was unable to perform her wifely duties and please Daddy.
  • Daddy was left with no choice but to seek release in the form of a fat truck stop waitress named Lucille.
  • Enjoy Lucille as your new step-mommy and that 50 year old white guy with gray dreadlocks that your mommy will marry and make you call him new daddy.
  • Know that all of this could have been avoided if you’d just picked up your Goddamned toys like you were told.  Oh well.  A lifetime of misery is worth the extra time you saved by leaving your fucking action figures all over the place you obnoxious little shit.  Hang your head in shame.

#2 – Do My Parents Still Love Me?

No.  No they don’t.  How could they?  You’re a horrible, awful little child and they were so much happier before a nasty little eating, pooping, crying, money sucking machine came into their lives and ruined everything.  Daddy used to have hair.  Mommy used to have perky tits.  All your fault, you little loser.

#3 – Will I Get to See Daddy Again?

Probably not…or barely.  You see, while there has been great advancement in women’s rights laws, divorce laws continue to favor women based on the antiquated notion that a woman’s only means of support was in her ability to find a quality husband and that ability declines drastically after a divorce.  Today, women work and divorce doesn’t just carry the stigma in the dating world.  (Don’t worry.  It still carries a stigma in the high school popularity world.  Everyone will call you that divorced family kid, the one who broke his/her parents up.)

Mommy will drain Daddy’s money with child support and alimony so he’ll have to work 80 hours a week but barely afford a one room apartment in the ghetto.  He’ll resent this so much he’ll barely be able to stand seeing her for the five minutes required to pick you up, so he’ll do it less and less.

Ironically, Daddy will eventually realize he has the best of both worlds.  He accomplished a goal in life to have a kid…but he doesn’t have to take care of the kid that often.  He can’t because he doesn’t live with Mommy.  He’ll pick you up one weekend a month…then every 3 months…6 months…before long he’ll start a new family with a hotter, younger wife and use the knowledge of all the mistakes he made to be a great husband and father…to the new family…that you won’t be a part of….because remember, old gray white dreadlock step-daddy is your daddy now.

You really wish you’d picked up that fucking troll doll off the floor don’t you?  Yeah you do.

#4 – Will This Ruin My Future?

Almost certainly.  You’ll pit your parents against each other.  You’ll gravitate towards the one with the least amount of rules.  Whichever one you make the guiltiest will agree to all kinds of crazy shit.  You’ll basically be the boss of your parents because they feel bad, but you won’t get any real parenting, so you will have a wasted youth that leads to a jaded, ruined adulthood.

Romantic partners will consider you damaged goods.  You’ll get divorced yourself because you know, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

#5 – Will I Ever Be Happy Again?

Nope.  That feeling will elude you for life.  It is all your fault.


If you forget everything else, 3.5 readers, ALWAYS remember to tell your kids that your divorce is THEIR fault.  You can’t sugarcoat every piece of shit that comes your kids’ way and believe me, as divorced life begins, there’s going to be a lot of shit, so let them take it straight.

What kind of bad news would you like me to explain how to break?  Tell me in the comments.


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Monica Duncan, Professional Bad News Breaker


Hey 3.5 readers.

Proud to announce that there is a new columnist for the Bookshelf Battle Blog.  Also, because the millennials are all about diversity and shit, this columnist has a vagina, so, yeah that’s cool.  We don’t have many of those around here.

We promise not to sexually harass her around the office.  We aren’t into any crazy Matt Lauer shit so it should be fine.

Anyway, Monica is a professional breaker of bad news.  Do you have something very difficult to say?  Can’t do it yourself?  Don’t worry.  Monica will do it for you…or in her column, she’ll tell you how.  Telling people about some heinous, life altering for the worse shit, is what Monica does best…or you know, she at least does it….so that’s better than we can do.

Please give her a warm welcome, 3.5 readers.

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