 Dear Santa...Dear Santa, This year I've been busy! In August I caught a purse-snatcher who stole ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small} voldsom's purse (30 points). Last Monday I punched wc_helmets in the arm (-10 points). In January on a flight to Vancouver, I stole the emergency flight information card (-40 points). In February I broke bluestocking7's X-Box (-12 points). In July I helped paisleydaze hide a body (-173 points). Overall, I've been naughty (-205 points). For Christmas I deserve a moldy sandwich! Sincerely, |
You try to jingle me, we're gonna have problems.
Jingle Tinhuviel, Jingle Tinhuviel,
Jingle all the way.
Jingle Bells
from the Christmas Song Generator.
Bestest Krimmus Gift
Dec. 30th, 2005 06:43 pmFrom my Todd. It came today, just as I was about to give up and die.
Battlestar Galactica: Season 2 part 1
I wrote him and told him it was exactly what I wanted, but I'm afraid he'll think I'm being sarcastic. I'm not. Verily, I am thrilled. Yea and Verily!
Battlestar Galactica: Season 2 part 1
I wrote him and told him it was exactly what I wanted, but I'm afraid he'll think I'm being sarcastic. I'm not. Verily, I am thrilled. Yea and Verily!
The Day After
Dec. 26th, 2005 01:01 pmSo Krimmus day was very cool. Laid back, cheery, and filled with naps and relaxation. All the phone obligations were handled early, allowing Aunt Tudi and myself the rest of the day to just chill out.
Today is different. Today, we'll be going out to fight the crowds and purchase supplies for next December. This is Aunt Tudi's favourite day of the holiday month. She gets to buy all manner of wrapping paper, bows, and whatnot at slashed prices. Her favourite place is Lowes because they sell the metallic wrapping paper. I'm hoping that this is the only place we go, 'cos I'm just not a shopper. I'm with the men on this. Don't tarry, don't linger, just get what you gotta have and get the hell out!
After the shopping thing, I'm supposed to go see Llew. The kids have gone to Tennessee, so we'll have the house to ourselves. I'm hoping to go and get back before dark, at which time I'll log back on to my beloved Internet and chill before heading to beddiebyes.
While I'm waiting on Aunt Tudi to finish her lunch so we can scoot on outta here, I took a quiz I stole frompopfiend. It's too cool to wait and post it with the other quizzes on Friday.
( twilight zone )
This is the fourth straight day I've felt fantastic, both physically and mentally. Surely this is a sign that death is near.
Today is different. Today, we'll be going out to fight the crowds and purchase supplies for next December. This is Aunt Tudi's favourite day of the holiday month. She gets to buy all manner of wrapping paper, bows, and whatnot at slashed prices. Her favourite place is Lowes because they sell the metallic wrapping paper. I'm hoping that this is the only place we go, 'cos I'm just not a shopper. I'm with the men on this. Don't tarry, don't linger, just get what you gotta have and get the hell out!
After the shopping thing, I'm supposed to go see Llew. The kids have gone to Tennessee, so we'll have the house to ourselves. I'm hoping to go and get back before dark, at which time I'll log back on to my beloved Internet and chill before heading to beddiebyes.
While I'm waiting on Aunt Tudi to finish her lunch so we can scoot on outta here, I took a quiz I stole from
popfiend. It's too cool to wait and post it with the other quizzes on Friday. ( twilight zone )
This is the fourth straight day I've felt fantastic, both physically and mentally. Surely this is a sign that death is near.
Happy Christmas from Barry Andrews
Dec. 25th, 2005 11:09 pm"This is our mission to be the Daleks of God"
My favourite Christmas
Dec. 25th, 2005 10:43 pmWe'd been in SC for two years in June 1983. The unbearable homesickness was starting to wane ever-so-slowly and I was happy to be around other kids, especially Johnna, with whom I could relate and they could relate to me. It was Christmas Eve 1983 and the family had yet to gather. In those earlier years, each year Uncle Michael and Janice, along with Granny would set up a booth at a giant craft show that was held in either late November or mid-December. This year, the show's last day (it usually lasted 3 days) fell upon Christmas Eve.
Aunt Tudi stayed with Johnna, Little Michael, and me at our house. We played games, ate chocolate-covered cherries, and generally enjoyed ourselves. I'd never had a real sense of family before this because the fam in Asheville was so huge and was split in two camps: the adults and the young children. I was neither during those pre-SC years because I was pre-teening. I couldn't handle being around the kids and the adults wouldn't allow me in their fold, so I usually just stayed to myself and listened to the radio, hoping to catch Wings' "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime." So this togetherness thing was quite good for me.
Now Aunt Tudi has always been a soft touch when it came to kids and Christmas. It didn't take us any time to persuade her to let us open just one gift a piece. Little Michael opened his and it was, if memory serves, a big bundle of matchbox cars. Johnna, who has never had enough chocolate-covered cherries, opted to open her box of cherries and continue her confection orgy. I opened the gift that looked like records.
Within the wrapping I found Seven and the Ragged Tiger by Duran Duran, Upstairs at Eric's by Yazoo, and two or three other albums I can't remember now. On went my headphones and I was instantly in heaven. While Johnna and Michael enjoyed their early presents, I gazed at them and Aunt Tudi and realised that, for the first time since moving to South Carolina, I was genuinely happy. "Only You" by Yazoo became the soundtrack for that night and, to this day, I always think of Yazoo at Christmas and, when I hear "Only You," I'm carried back to Christmas 1983.
If every Christmas felt like that one, I probably wouldn't be the Grinch I am today.
Aunt Tudi stayed with Johnna, Little Michael, and me at our house. We played games, ate chocolate-covered cherries, and generally enjoyed ourselves. I'd never had a real sense of family before this because the fam in Asheville was so huge and was split in two camps: the adults and the young children. I was neither during those pre-SC years because I was pre-teening. I couldn't handle being around the kids and the adults wouldn't allow me in their fold, so I usually just stayed to myself and listened to the radio, hoping to catch Wings' "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime." So this togetherness thing was quite good for me.
Now Aunt Tudi has always been a soft touch when it came to kids and Christmas. It didn't take us any time to persuade her to let us open just one gift a piece. Little Michael opened his and it was, if memory serves, a big bundle of matchbox cars. Johnna, who has never had enough chocolate-covered cherries, opted to open her box of cherries and continue her confection orgy. I opened the gift that looked like records.
Within the wrapping I found Seven and the Ragged Tiger by Duran Duran, Upstairs at Eric's by Yazoo, and two or three other albums I can't remember now. On went my headphones and I was instantly in heaven. While Johnna and Michael enjoyed their early presents, I gazed at them and Aunt Tudi and realised that, for the first time since moving to South Carolina, I was genuinely happy. "Only You" by Yazoo became the soundtrack for that night and, to this day, I always think of Yazoo at Christmas and, when I hear "Only You," I'm carried back to Christmas 1983.
If every Christmas felt like that one, I probably wouldn't be the Grinch I am today.
Passed Out
Dec. 25th, 2005 07:40 pmI had one of those narcolepsy fits and asked Aunt Tudi to shout for me in 15 minutes if I wasn't up by then. She said she would, so I lay down on the couch and instantly fell asleep. One hour and fifteen minutes later, I woke up to find Aunt Tudi and all the animals passed out flat. So now I'm watching A Christmas Story on TBS and fighting going back to sleep.
This has been one the absolute best Krimmuses EVAR.
This has been one the absolute best Krimmuses EVAR.
Krimmus Shindig mit dee Evanses
Dec. 25th, 2005 03:20 pmAfter fighting the thundering herds at Ingles to get a couple of drinks and some cookies, I sped back home to get Aunt Tudi and our pressies for the Evans Krimmus Eve Brouhaha. We followed Uncle Michael and Janice to Little Michael's house out in the sticks of Campobello.
Little Michael has a beautiful home, which he built himself with the help of some of his cousins. The floors are glistening hardwood and the décor is very tasteful and ranch-like. We all piled into the house and spread out the goodies while Little Michael positioned all the pressies under the humendo-tree.
Mandy and her boyfriend had to leave within 30 minutes so we did the gift exchange with them and, after they left, we dug into the goodies. We retired to the living room, all bloated like blood-sucking ticks, and began the gigantic gift exchange. All in all, it was an incredibly pleasant experience except for Colby behaving like a chimp on crack. If he were my kid, he wouldn't behave like that or, if he did, I'd make sure Santa passed him over for Christmas. Little shithead..... He gave me a freakin' headache and made me want to squeeze his scrawny little neck til his head popped off. I mentioned several times that he was going to grow up and become incarcerated shortly thereafter. Janice argued that he was a good boy whereupon Colby would act up again and prove her wrong.
After the gift exchange, I went out with Little Michael to meet the horses. They're magnificent creatures, utterly magnificent! He invited me to come back after the first of the year to ride. I may take him up on it. I'd love to learn more about horses and establish an affinity with them.
Oh, and I talked to Jenni, who is a veterinarian. I told her what my plans were and she was quite enthusiastic about it. So...who knows? Maybe in the next few years we'll have two vets in the family! I'm thinking that we might could start up our own practice then, or maybe I could inherit Dr. Patch's practice after he retires and bring Jenni into the WSCAH fold. So many possibilities....
We left later than we'd planned and followed Johnna back to the main roads where she and the kids went their way and Aunt Tudi and I went ours. We drove through downtown Spartanburg to get a glimpse of their decorations. We'd seen them during the day and surmised they were probably beautiful all lit up. We were right. We then came home, pampered the beasties, and went to bed.
All in all, a dandy day.....except for the rancid little creep Colby.
I've created a sub-album for our Christmas pics for anyone keen on seeing all of them. Here's a sampling of what an Evans brouhaha is all about. It's all good, peoples. All good!
( Evans Krimmus Shindig )
Little Michael has a beautiful home, which he built himself with the help of some of his cousins. The floors are glistening hardwood and the décor is very tasteful and ranch-like. We all piled into the house and spread out the goodies while Little Michael positioned all the pressies under the humendo-tree.
Mandy and her boyfriend had to leave within 30 minutes so we did the gift exchange with them and, after they left, we dug into the goodies. We retired to the living room, all bloated like blood-sucking ticks, and began the gigantic gift exchange. All in all, it was an incredibly pleasant experience except for Colby behaving like a chimp on crack. If he were my kid, he wouldn't behave like that or, if he did, I'd make sure Santa passed him over for Christmas. Little shithead..... He gave me a freakin' headache and made me want to squeeze his scrawny little neck til his head popped off. I mentioned several times that he was going to grow up and become incarcerated shortly thereafter. Janice argued that he was a good boy whereupon Colby would act up again and prove her wrong.
After the gift exchange, I went out with Little Michael to meet the horses. They're magnificent creatures, utterly magnificent! He invited me to come back after the first of the year to ride. I may take him up on it. I'd love to learn more about horses and establish an affinity with them.
Oh, and I talked to Jenni, who is a veterinarian. I told her what my plans were and she was quite enthusiastic about it. So...who knows? Maybe in the next few years we'll have two vets in the family! I'm thinking that we might could start up our own practice then, or maybe I could inherit Dr. Patch's practice after he retires and bring Jenni into the WSCAH fold. So many possibilities....
We left later than we'd planned and followed Johnna back to the main roads where she and the kids went their way and Aunt Tudi and I went ours. We drove through downtown Spartanburg to get a glimpse of their decorations. We'd seen them during the day and surmised they were probably beautiful all lit up. We were right. We then came home, pampered the beasties, and went to bed.
All in all, a dandy day.....except for the rancid little creep Colby.
I've created a sub-album for our Christmas pics for anyone keen on seeing all of them. Here's a sampling of what an Evans brouhaha is all about. It's all good, peoples. All good!
( Evans Krimmus Shindig )
So here I sit with a small red bow affixed to my head and grin plastered across my face. It's not necessarily Krimmus spirit, but I am in a fantabulous mood. I feel all warm and gooey inside, and I'm ready to bounce about and titter with glee.
I feel so good, I wouldn't even punchclauderainsrm in the face if he were close! I'm afraid that Palpy will barge in any minute and take away my Sith membership card, slowly ripping it up in front of me and tossing the pieces in the air like so much confetti.
Tonight is the Evans family brouhaha. It used to be held at my house when Granny was still alive. After she died, though, we started having it at Uncle Michael and Janice's abode. This year will be different. Little Michael finished his and Jenni's new home and, as a result, they wanted to host the shindig there. So we're off to Campobello around 6 PM. I thought they lived in Boiling Springs, but I was mistaken.
Aunt Tudi has asked me not to be too critical of Colby tonight. I'll do my level best to honour her wishes even though he deserves to be beaten with a large spiked club. He sure as hell doesn't deserve to be visited by Santa Claus because he's an unruly little bat-faced reprobate. I'm the only one who lets him know that too. I make him and everyone around him aware that I know he's a criminal in the making.
BUT!! I feel too good to let that speck of bad behaviour ruin my day. I'm gonna have at the good times and enjoy myself to the max. And then I'm gonna come home and stay up 'til shortly after Midnight, like I always do on Krimmus Eve, hoping that one or all of the animals will speak. If nothing happens, I'll retire for the evening. If one of them does start speaking, you'll hear my YAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!! echoing around the globe. Yea and verily.
I feel so good, I wouldn't even punch
clauderainsrm in the face if he were close! I'm afraid that Palpy will barge in any minute and take away my Sith membership card, slowly ripping it up in front of me and tossing the pieces in the air like so much confetti.Tonight is the Evans family brouhaha. It used to be held at my house when Granny was still alive. After she died, though, we started having it at Uncle Michael and Janice's abode. This year will be different. Little Michael finished his and Jenni's new home and, as a result, they wanted to host the shindig there. So we're off to Campobello around 6 PM. I thought they lived in Boiling Springs, but I was mistaken.
Aunt Tudi has asked me not to be too critical of Colby tonight. I'll do my level best to honour her wishes even though he deserves to be beaten with a large spiked club. He sure as hell doesn't deserve to be visited by Santa Claus because he's an unruly little bat-faced reprobate. I'm the only one who lets him know that too. I make him and everyone around him aware that I know he's a criminal in the making.
BUT!! I feel too good to let that speck of bad behaviour ruin my day. I'm gonna have at the good times and enjoy myself to the max. And then I'm gonna come home and stay up 'til shortly after Midnight, like I always do on Krimmus Eve, hoping that one or all of the animals will speak. If nothing happens, I'll retire for the evening. If one of them does start speaking, you'll hear my YAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!! echoing around the globe. Yea and verily.
Cruel and Unusual
Dec. 20th, 2005 02:17 pmFor the past 11 years in The Pit, we all got an ornament each year representing one of the days of the Twelve Days of Krimmus. This year would have been the end of the collection with the 12th Day of Krimmus being featured. Even though I'm no longer indentured in The Pit, I wanted to complete the collection mainly for Aunt Tudi, who has been collecting these plate ornaments for....well, for 11 years! Having contacts in The Pit, I reached out to them earlier to see if they could snag an extra ornament for me. Mary wrote me back to tell me that the Feudal Overlord decided not to continue the series this year.
What sort of malicious soul does such a thing? Did he even consider the obsessive-compulsives who may want to jump off a bridge because they now have an incomplete collection? I swear, this makes me want to go over to The Pit and jerk that man up by his goozle, and shake him about for a while.
Frakking corporate assholes....
What sort of malicious soul does such a thing? Did he even consider the obsessive-compulsives who may want to jump off a bridge because they now have an incomplete collection? I swear, this makes me want to go over to The Pit and jerk that man up by his goozle, and shake him about for a while.
Frakking corporate assholes....
Yuletide Pudding Wench
Dec. 19th, 2005 06:37 pmIn response to my Christmahanukkwanzaayule e-card of fruitcake dread, B emailed me, calling me a Yuletide Pudding Wench. My holiday has officially been made as I embrace the new title with much relish.
A smidge of Krimmus spirit
Nov. 30th, 2005 09:00 pmJust saw the end of Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer and felt the dread stirrings of the Krimmus Spirit. As soon as the commercials started, though, I lost it yooost like zat. But I'm really rather keen on hearing all the Whos down in Whoville sing Da Who Doray.
Bits and Bobs
Nov. 10th, 2005 07:35 pmI've written about 500 words today, but I finally got down the tale of Thanatos and Virginia Dare. When I was a kid, Aunt Tudi and Granny ordered me a book from Readers Digest entitled American Folklore and Legend. Even as a wee tot, I had little regard for American anything except for the short period of time in 1979 when I became a flag-waving idiotic Reagan supporter. It was the Iran hostage crisis and I was young and dumb, so don't hold it against me. Anyway, I just wasn't into my country's history, folklore, or Yankee Doodle tall tales. But one story always held me enthralled and that was the story of Virginia Dare and the Roanoke Colony. So, when I first started making notes on what would eventually become The Chalice, I decided to intertwine her story with that of Thanatos'. Up until today, Virginia was Thanatos' vampire lover. I've changed that now. Now, Virginia was raised by Thanatos, who was witness to what happened to the Roanoke settlers and had to see the same thing happen to his beloved adopted daughter. I never mention exactly what happened to the colony, just that a great darkness was visited upon them. It could mean disease, a curse, mass murder, whatever. All that I say is that Virginia, being connected to the colonists, is affected physically by the same darkness when she turned 20, forcing Thanatos to transform her into a vampire. But the transformation is only a delay for her imminent demise. So yeah.
Tonight we're supposed to enjoy temperatures in the mid-30s. Last night our low was 62. That's almost a 30 degree difference. We're all going to die.
I was thinking about Granny earlier. She used to make humourous grocery lists in her later days when she could no longer go to the store herself. She'd give the list to Aunt Tudi and she and I would take care of bidness for all of us. One day, she made this particularly amusing list, which Aunt Tudi and I laughed out with a mighty fervour. That same day, Aunt Tudi had an appointment to get her hair cut. The grocery list fell out of her pocket at the beauty shop, which was one of those hoity-toity Steel Magnolias holes in the wall. So some biddy at the beauty shop got a list that had the following items on it:
To this day, I call them chicken boobs.
I have a cup of Sleepytime Tea steeping. Here's hoping it will help with my serious caffeine hangover.
I communicated with Barry last night. He's perplexed as to why I haven't yet received a copy of "Cormorant." Apparently, I actually was on his list of folks to receive a complimentary copy. I told him it didn't matter 'cos I was planning on paying for a copy of the CD regardless. So I may end up with two copies of the CD and I'm already on the waiting list for one of the Great Eggs. This makes me exceedingly happy.
I'm tossing around the idea of sending him a copy of The Chalice, but I'm leaning toward not sending it to him. The book is a homage to purple prose because I like purple prose; however, I'm afraid that Barry would find it tedious and point a finger of doom in my general direction. Then again, he does like the work of Russell Hoban, whose mastery of the grandiose writing style is beloved of many of us, including myself. Here's a lovely sampling of Mr. Hoban's ability:
Now, in no way am I comparing myself to Russell Hoban. I am but a speck of filth lucky enough to have been exposed to his brilliance. But he is a master of purple prose and he gives weeblets like myself hope that the art of such writing is not extinct. But I digress. My dilemma is whether or not to send the finished The Chalice (or the first draft as it is) to Barry. Do I want to open myself up to that? Would he even read it? Would it be an exercise in the Realm of the Pathetic for me to send it to him? Is it an exercise in the Realm of the Pathetic for me to even entertain the idea?
But he has a right to see what he's inspired. He has a right to know if he should retain a lawyer so he can sue me for defamation of character, albeit in a wholly honourable fangirl way. Blah! I don't know what to do. Maybe I should make a poll. I sure as hell ain't gonna get anymore serious writing done tonight. I'm too spazzed out.
I'm wearing toe socks for the first time this season. I have ten little blocks of ice in lieu of toes. Verily do I suffer. And my lips are seriously chapped. I've raw spots on my lower lip. In fact, I'm convinced that my lip will fall off in the middle of the night only to be devoured by one of the dogs as a midnight snack. I will then lie in bed on a respirator and buy items Hannibal Lecter has touched and ponder my revenge with the cunning use of genetically altered boars.
It pisses me off, the slaughter of trees this time of year. Everyone who kills a tree for the holidays should have that tree shoved up their chocolate wizways. Then again...not everyone has a black Nightmare Before Christmas tree to trim like yours truly. Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. No. Tree killers be damned!!
Tonight we're supposed to enjoy temperatures in the mid-30s. Last night our low was 62. That's almost a 30 degree difference. We're all going to die.
I was thinking about Granny earlier. She used to make humourous grocery lists in her later days when she could no longer go to the store herself. She'd give the list to Aunt Tudi and she and I would take care of bidness for all of us. One day, she made this particularly amusing list, which Aunt Tudi and I laughed out with a mighty fervour. That same day, Aunt Tudi had an appointment to get her hair cut. The grocery list fell out of her pocket at the beauty shop, which was one of those hoity-toity Steel Magnolias holes in the wall. So some biddy at the beauty shop got a list that had the following items on it:
- 4 cans vyeenie a-weenies (translation: 4 cans of Vienna Sausages)
- 3 pounds chicken boobs (3 pounds of chicken breasts)
To this day, I call them chicken boobs.
I have a cup of Sleepytime Tea steeping. Here's hoping it will help with my serious caffeine hangover.
I communicated with Barry last night. He's perplexed as to why I haven't yet received a copy of "Cormorant." Apparently, I actually was on his list of folks to receive a complimentary copy. I told him it didn't matter 'cos I was planning on paying for a copy of the CD regardless. So I may end up with two copies of the CD and I'm already on the waiting list for one of the Great Eggs. This makes me exceedingly happy.
I'm tossing around the idea of sending him a copy of The Chalice, but I'm leaning toward not sending it to him. The book is a homage to purple prose because I like purple prose; however, I'm afraid that Barry would find it tedious and point a finger of doom in my general direction. Then again, he does like the work of Russell Hoban, whose mastery of the grandiose writing style is beloved of many of us, including myself. Here's a lovely sampling of Mr. Hoban's ability:
The world vibrates like a crystal in the mind; there is a frequency at which terror and ecstasy are the same and any road might be taken. ~~ from The Medusa Frequency
Each of us is the forward point of a procession stretching back into the darkness. And even within oneself, every moment is a self that dies: the road to each day's midnight is littered with corpses and all of them whispering. ~~ from Fremder
Now, in no way am I comparing myself to Russell Hoban. I am but a speck of filth lucky enough to have been exposed to his brilliance. But he is a master of purple prose and he gives weeblets like myself hope that the art of such writing is not extinct. But I digress. My dilemma is whether or not to send the finished The Chalice (or the first draft as it is) to Barry. Do I want to open myself up to that? Would he even read it? Would it be an exercise in the Realm of the Pathetic for me to send it to him? Is it an exercise in the Realm of the Pathetic for me to even entertain the idea?
But he has a right to see what he's inspired. He has a right to know if he should retain a lawyer so he can sue me for defamation of character, albeit in a wholly honourable fangirl way. Blah! I don't know what to do. Maybe I should make a poll. I sure as hell ain't gonna get anymore serious writing done tonight. I'm too spazzed out.
I'm wearing toe socks for the first time this season. I have ten little blocks of ice in lieu of toes. Verily do I suffer. And my lips are seriously chapped. I've raw spots on my lower lip. In fact, I'm convinced that my lip will fall off in the middle of the night only to be devoured by one of the dogs as a midnight snack. I will then lie in bed on a respirator and buy items Hannibal Lecter has touched and ponder my revenge with the cunning use of genetically altered boars.
It pisses me off, the slaughter of trees this time of year. Everyone who kills a tree for the holidays should have that tree shoved up their chocolate wizways. Then again...not everyone has a black Nightmare Before Christmas tree to trim like yours truly. Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. No. Tree killers be damned!!
X-mas ~ fucking X-mas
Nov. 9th, 2005 02:08 pmI'm never in the X-mas spirit. I don't even call it Christmas anymore. It has as much to do with a Mass for Christ as MTV has to do with music videos these days. But it has everything to do with [BLING]BRAND Xsssssssssss[BLING BLING]. Yesterday I beheld a majestic pine in one of our national forests being torn down for the pleasure of Dubya (King Fuckerhead) Bush. It will be draped with garish manmade ornaments and hideous plastic baubles that will be here thousands of years after the Alpaca Lips takes us from this weary planet. Little childrens (yes with an 's') will gather and sing for our shit-for-brains prez and "oo" around the slowly dying tree like Whos on crack, and everyone will get that little tickle of peace on Earth and good will toward men all the while blindly supporting genocide and torture just as long as it's "over there, over there, over there, we don't care, over there," and feel that odd little compulsion to go out and be consumers for Christ.
Oh and don't forget the homeless over here, over here, over here, spread that cheer over here! They only really need two meals a year, did you know that? Everyone is eager to stuff the homeless like the unfortunate birds that are planning on bestowing upon us their current plague (with a little help from those pesky government-sanctioned mad scientists). Actually, the homeless don't even exist any other time of the year. They just abandon their homes so they can stand in long lines and enjoy the endless libations of canned beets and green bean casserole (which I believe was created in a bioweapons lab somewhere in Ghana). I mean who the fuck thinks of showering milky green beans in a pan with obviously nuked crackly fried onions? Who the fuck eats it? The homeless? Ahhh! That's why they're homeless. The gas they get from all the turkey, beets, and green been casserole demands that they stay out of doors for at least 11 months. And all this time we've been blaming the green house gazes on those goddamned cows as we drive ourselves to Mickey D's.
Fuck X-mas and all it stands for now. And fuck anyone who falls for it. Here's an idea. Instead of going out and buying a bunch of shit no one needs, go out and buy They Live and watch it every time you feel the urge to watch an X-mas special or scamper out and buy decorations for your house. If They Live doesn't open your eyes to what this season is all about, you're hopeless and deserve to die in the Alpaca Lips. Amen.
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
misanthrope_inc because it needs to be there too.
Oh and don't forget the homeless over here, over here, over here, spread that cheer over here! They only really need two meals a year, did you know that? Everyone is eager to stuff the homeless like the unfortunate birds that are planning on bestowing upon us their current plague (with a little help from those pesky government-sanctioned mad scientists). Actually, the homeless don't even exist any other time of the year. They just abandon their homes so they can stand in long lines and enjoy the endless libations of canned beets and green bean casserole (which I believe was created in a bioweapons lab somewhere in Ghana). I mean who the fuck thinks of showering milky green beans in a pan with obviously nuked crackly fried onions? Who the fuck eats it? The homeless? Ahhh! That's why they're homeless. The gas they get from all the turkey, beets, and green been casserole demands that they stay out of doors for at least 11 months. And all this time we've been blaming the green house gazes on those goddamned cows as we drive ourselves to Mickey D's.
Fuck X-mas and all it stands for now. And fuck anyone who falls for it. Here's an idea. Instead of going out and buying a bunch of shit no one needs, go out and buy They Live and watch it every time you feel the urge to watch an X-mas special or scamper out and buy decorations for your house. If They Live doesn't open your eyes to what this season is all about, you're hopeless and deserve to die in the Alpaca Lips. Amen.
x-posted to
misanthrope_inc because it needs to be there too.
Upon waking at 7 AM, I decided to stay up instead of lying down for a few more hours, as has been my routine of late. This gives me about 4.5 hours of sleep and, already, I'm feeling the burn of sleepies.
There are things to do today, but I'm waiting for it to warm up a little first. Right now, I'm covered with as many blankets and comforters I could find and I'm still chilly.
One thing I needed to do I've already accomplished: I spoke with Lori at Dr. Patch's office about Shmoop. She put me on hold to go talk to Doc, who suggested that I come in for more Amoxil Drops. It turns out that this medicine only holds for about 14 days, so I've been administering something that was doing Shmoop absolutely no good. How was I to know? Duh. I also asked about the symptoms of dog flu that is going around right now. For any readers with dogs, I'm typing the symptoms in large font so it won't be easy to overlook.
To my knowledge, the dog flu can't jump from dogs to humans like the current avian influenza, so please don't banish your dog out of fear. That's wrong, man, wrong!
Speaking of dogs, Chester took a tumble last night. He was balanced on the back of the love seat when Janice came down to visit, got a little excited, lost his balance and fell flat on the floor. Later on, Aunt Tudi was cuddling him and asked him if he was sore.....and Chester answered: "uh huh." We both were astonished, but I told Aunt Tudi there was no use in proclaiming to the world that we have a talking dog. Every time we'd try to show him off, he'd just sit there and make Yorkie noises, but as soon as the strangers were gone, he'd pick up his top hat and cane and start singing "Michigan Rag." I know it to be true.
One of the reasons I was up so late last night is I was watching one of my favourite guilty pleasure movies on Turner South. Ice Pirates was on. This is the movie from which I got the notorious "space herpe," which makes me titter with glee every time I think about it. While watching Ice Pirates, it dawned on me how similar this movie is to Joss Whedon's Firefly, based on what little I know about Firefly. I could be wrong, but I can't help but suspect a little bit of recycling was performed in the writing of Firefly and Serenity. Should Robert Urich be spinning in his grave?
Also, last night, Aunt Tudi and I were discussing Christmas. She's the Bob Cratchett of our household and I am Scrooge. Most years, we don't do much because we really can't afford it. I despise the fact that what should be a holy season for so many different religions has become a commercial mishmash of horror, but Aunt Tudi gets all starry-eyed and wants to give to everybody and his brother. This year will be the first in many where we can marginally afford the kind of Christmas Aunt Tudi likes. I informed of this last night, saying "We're going to do Christmas your way this time and give shit to a bunch of people I don't like." Hey, I gotta stay in character.
I have an appointment with Jan in Human Resources at The Pit today at 4 PM. I was going to have her fill out my insurance paper for credit card payment protection, but the idjits at account secure sent me the wrong form, sending me the disability forms instead of the unemployment forms. So I'm SOL. I must call them this morning and get that straightened out.
For now, though, I'm keeping under the covers and praying for the feeling to come back in my toes.
There are things to do today, but I'm waiting for it to warm up a little first. Right now, I'm covered with as many blankets and comforters I could find and I'm still chilly.
One thing I needed to do I've already accomplished: I spoke with Lori at Dr. Patch's office about Shmoop. She put me on hold to go talk to Doc, who suggested that I come in for more Amoxil Drops. It turns out that this medicine only holds for about 14 days, so I've been administering something that was doing Shmoop absolutely no good. How was I to know? Duh. I also asked about the symptoms of dog flu that is going around right now. For any readers with dogs, I'm typing the symptoms in large font so it won't be easy to overlook.
DOG FLU
Make certain your dog has a bordatella shot, so you can differentiate between flu and kennel cough.
Watch for coughing, diarrhea, vomiting
If you see these symptoms, get your dog to the doctor, but don't take her/him inside
Call ahead with your concerns
Make certain your dog has a bordatella shot, so you can differentiate between flu and kennel cough.
Watch for coughing, diarrhea, vomiting
If you see these symptoms, get your dog to the doctor, but don't take her/him inside
Call ahead with your concerns
To my knowledge, the dog flu can't jump from dogs to humans like the current avian influenza, so please don't banish your dog out of fear. That's wrong, man, wrong!
Speaking of dogs, Chester took a tumble last night. He was balanced on the back of the love seat when Janice came down to visit, got a little excited, lost his balance and fell flat on the floor. Later on, Aunt Tudi was cuddling him and asked him if he was sore.....and Chester answered: "uh huh." We both were astonished, but I told Aunt Tudi there was no use in proclaiming to the world that we have a talking dog. Every time we'd try to show him off, he'd just sit there and make Yorkie noises, but as soon as the strangers were gone, he'd pick up his top hat and cane and start singing "Michigan Rag." I know it to be true.
One of the reasons I was up so late last night is I was watching one of my favourite guilty pleasure movies on Turner South. Ice Pirates was on. This is the movie from which I got the notorious "space herpe," which makes me titter with glee every time I think about it. While watching Ice Pirates, it dawned on me how similar this movie is to Joss Whedon's Firefly, based on what little I know about Firefly. I could be wrong, but I can't help but suspect a little bit of recycling was performed in the writing of Firefly and Serenity. Should Robert Urich be spinning in his grave?
Also, last night, Aunt Tudi and I were discussing Christmas. She's the Bob Cratchett of our household and I am Scrooge. Most years, we don't do much because we really can't afford it. I despise the fact that what should be a holy season for so many different religions has become a commercial mishmash of horror, but Aunt Tudi gets all starry-eyed and wants to give to everybody and his brother. This year will be the first in many where we can marginally afford the kind of Christmas Aunt Tudi likes. I informed of this last night, saying "We're going to do Christmas your way this time and give shit to a bunch of people I don't like." Hey, I gotta stay in character.
I have an appointment with Jan in Human Resources at The Pit today at 4 PM. I was going to have her fill out my insurance paper for credit card payment protection, but the idjits at account secure sent me the wrong form, sending me the disability forms instead of the unemployment forms. So I'm SOL. I must call them this morning and get that straightened out.
For now, though, I'm keeping under the covers and praying for the feeling to come back in my toes.
