Jon Hamm’s dick has been making his presence known for quite for time now, but we at THEPOPFIX got a one-on-one exclusive with the man (if you can even call it that) behind the member. Jon Hamm’s dick clears up all the rumors about the airbrushing, the free ballin’ and what we can expect in the final season of Mad Men…

Ray J has officially become that losery guy at the bar who brags about banging the homecoming queen in the baseball dugout back when he still had all his hair. His Kim Kardashian diss song, “I Hit It First” debuted on the interwebs this week, calling out his ex and basically every guy she’s ever been with. We all remember back in 2007 when this couple’s sex tape hit the web. Thank God he filmed it for proof, right? Or who knows what long-past, irrelevant life event he’d be recording songs about…his best one-liner on “Moesha?” But if the pathetic “I Hit It First” ever climbs the charts to become a hit, I think Ray-J should celebrate with a special cocktail. Luckily, I have the perfect bartender in mind who might be able to serve up something special for the occasion…

Drive around The Beverly Center for 30 minutes in search of free parking.

Use your hair straightener as an iron and panini press.

Consider Groupon a legitimate form of currency.

Buy a coffee on credit.

Keep a running note in your smart phone detailing prices at local gas stations.

1. The difference between “friends” and “happy hour friends” is that “friends” know your birthday, and “happy hour friends” know your favorite shot.

2. All a USC degree means is that you’ve tried every thing on the Del Taco menu and didn’t remember it the next day. Fight on!

3. If his opening line is “I’m a producer,” RUN.

4. Your real age – 5 years = Your Hollywood age.

1:56 PM Tyrese channels his inner Alabama Intruder in his Grammy Pre-Telecast performance of the steamy Marvin Gaye classic, “Let’s Get It On.” I’m 99% sure I just heard, when you’re asleep “I’m gonna creep in your bed.”

2:36 PM Best Comedy Album goes to Jimmy Fallon. Secretly hoping his writers will charge the stage.

2:40 PM Still waiting…

It’s no coincidence that Valentine’s Day is right after The Superbowl. It’s only fair that men should have to make up to their girlfriends after a football season of abject neglect. Thank you in advance. When planning Valentine’s Day for the special lady in your life, there are a few simple things to keep in mind that will make your life a whole lot easier. Even those of you with the best intentions have probably messed up a Valentine’s Day or two, only to spend the night on the couch wondering why your girl was pissed off when you showed up at her apartment with a Ralph’s bouquet of roses and a card with an adorable puppy on the front. Amateurs. Here’s how to not mess it up this year…

An alarming trend has been sweeping amongst non-sports fans across America: The Anti-Super Bowl Party. Although the origin of this movement is unknown, it is a trend that is rapidly gaining the most momentum in hipster and gay communities, closely followed by a growing segment of the population who “don’t give a fuck.” According to our source, who declined to be identified for risk of being deemed “unpatriotic,” a traditional Anti-Super Bowl Party consists of a group of individuals gathered in one place on Super Bowl Sunday with the intention of putting the football game on mute, only raising the volume to watch the commercials. “It’s a lot of fun,” said the anonymous source who used to attend Super Bowl parties, exerting all of his energy to pretend that he was actually interested in watching the game…

Does your favorite mascara have the intensity to survive 24 hours under pressure, withstanding the elements, pillows, or a night fending off douchebags at the local club du jour? Going where no woman has dared go before, I put five different mascaras to what I officially dubbed as “The Morning After Test,” a rigorous cosmetic obstacle course comprised of various hurdles womenkind have encountered during extended wear including (but not limited to): smudges, smears, clumps, and waking up looking like you barely survived a bar brawl. And yes, I actually slept in them, making this a must read for walk-of-shamers, and habitual-inebriated-passer-outers everywhere. Read on for my scientific findings…