Merry Christmas to all!
I know you take me more for the ‘Bah Humbug’ type, but I do enjoy Christmas. It’s a time when we can all get together, count our blessings, and have awkward conversations with unknown relatives who call you Clara. I have an interesting family (remember?), interesting, but not lost. We all played a very spine-tingling game of Munchkin that left some of us confused, but everyone happy (I may be a level 2, but at least I still have my rat on a stick). We also decorated the tree together, topped off by an angel made with a photo of a four-year-old Siege (Ironic, I know). And Baby Jesus is resting comfortably in the bean pot, as always. And so, we may be dysfunctional, but at least we have Christmas. So everyone have a very Merry Christmas. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am. Now if only I could shake the feeling that Santa got gunned down somewhere in North Alabama.
Hearing The Sound of Music
When the dog bites, shouldn’t you be concerned with why it bit you, or a rabies shot? Rather than thinking about snowflakes sticking to your face?
Quick- to the popemobile!
This is the man who heads up the faith that guides one sixth of the world’s population.
I suppose the santa hat was intended to make him more child-friendly.
My shower water ran red with blood again.
I hate it when that happens.
Food with souls!
A nice, uneventful Thanksgiving. Save for all the backed up traffic on I-75 on the way back. But that’s not why I’m writing. I’m writing in praise of this place. A Brazillian steakhouse where the waiters are walking around with swords full of large cuts of meat. As soon as that card on the table is flipped to green, they converge on you like crows on roadkill. I ate nine different parts of a cow in the first ten minutes. By the end, I had eaten filet, pork ribs, lamb chops, bacon-wrapped chicken, some kind of fish, and a few things I couldn’t identify, but I can rest assured that they had faces and souls at some point.
Widgett and I consumed an entire farm and a half that day. Barnyard animals shy away from us peeing on themselves out of fear, because they can sense that enough souls have passed through us to qualify us as an ethereal gateway.
We ate them. All of them.