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| Christmas Cheer |
| 12.22.05 (8:23 am) [edit] |
Ok so merry fucking christmas. You know I mean it. What a great time of the year isn't it? Well I wouldn't be writing if I didn't have some things to go over. Some stuff to get straight. A little christmas clutter to sort out.
Speaking of christmas, let's start with the 12 days of christmas. I love it. Don't you? It's fantastic. What a great christmas song. I love it. Don't you? It's fantastic. A holiday melody. What a great christmas song. I love it. Don't you? It's fantastic. A holiday melody. I love it. Don't you? Kill me. Will you? I'm fantastic. I have a wooden spear in my skull, but at least I blew up that fucking stereo. The 12 Days of Christmas is like holiday Vietnam.
It was real cute at first hugh? For a couple minutes. This is the only song in history that wore out it's welcome halfway through the song. Let's stop kidding ourselves. This isn't a song, it's a math equation. A really bad one with 12 patridges in 12 pear trees when you're trying to play it off as one. By the end of the song you have a shot gun loaded to hunt a fucking partridge, but then decide to just shoot yourself in the face instead.
Ok moving on. Most of us start the christmas thing no earlier than mid November. Everyone except for that stupid asshole who put up his christmas lights in August. You know the guy. He celebrated Halloween in June. You know when I put up my christmas lights? Two Decembers ago. They never came down. Well one time we lost a strand because my nephew used it as a rope swing into the swimming pool. I mean what an anal bitch. We're shopping on christmas eve, and so is he, for easter eggs. The biggest thing I hate about christmas is the shopping. It's 60% "where the hell is the pillow section", 30% "I can't believe they ran out of lettuce babies", and 150% "get out of my way motherfuckers".
We all have to get into the Christmas mode eventually though. That's because we have to buy a shitload of presents. Jesus got presents, so your asshole nephew who set fire to his house and strangled a stray cat with a twizzler deserves presents too. What does mildreds vegetarian hemopheliac transexual boyfriend want? How about a candle? Ya that works. Get them all something good to shut em up. Well not all. I mean you can't buy presents for everyone. You have to decide who gets some and who doesn't? This is based on a logical and completely objective process we call fuck that guy. You think of reasons you didn't buy someone something, just in case they ask. Like if your best friend Eddie asks, say "I didn't get you a present because of that time you took your dying father to the baseball game instead of me. I hope he burns in hell. Merry Christmas"
Some people get presents, and some people don't. That's just the way it is. Meanwhile, you know what I got in my stocking last year? Socks. You son of a bitches. Why don't you just stuff a pack of underwear down my pants while I'm sleeping?
Ok then, let's go out and get a friggin tree. When we get to the tree place we'll act like tree professionals who meticulously critique every god damn branch and angle. What does it look like this way? What does it look like that way? Don't worry, we can put the retarded side against the wall. Do we want a fat one or a tall one? Let's haggle over the price of a dying carcass. You don't know shit about trees, so stop pretending you do. Walk in and grab one, and get the fuck out of tree expert village. Throw in a wreath too, which in tree world is equivalent to ripping off someones arm and making a neat circle out of it to hang on your door.
That's all for now.
Just wanted to spread some Christmas Cheer
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| ChumBiscuits |
| 12.12.05 (6:41 am) [edit] |
[image]5hadow_433156324.jpg[/image]
I ignore people with disabilities. I don't give them any special attention. It just looks suspicious in a room with 16 normal people and you're talking to the guy with no arms. If this was the animal kingdom, he would have been eaten by now. Probably cannibalized. You can't talk to a guy with no arms. No matter what you talk about, it always comes back to the arms. What about those arms, what's up with the arms, Hey did you leave your arms somewhere? Forget it. Let's talk about my armoire.
It's not a big deal when people get killed bungie jumping. The only reason it's so exciting in the first place is because you lived through it. You base that excitement on the fact that some people didn't. We need a few people to die bungie jumping, so we can make it fun for the rest of us.
Prostitutes have a wide range of prices for their services. You can get one that costs twice as much, and you last half as long, or you can get one that cost half as much and you get the clap.
Here's something I like to do. Take a dump at work, and when someone else walks into the bathroom, guess who it is when you see their shoes under the stall barrier. "Lemme guess... Tom right? I knew it. You must buy your shoes at payless you cheap prick. There's five other bathrooms in this company. Do you think you can walk into another one with your stupid shoes next time I need some fucking privacy? You cheap shoe wearing bastard. Can't a guy take a dump in peace?"
I'm going to start a new cause called "People against Will Smith ever rapping again" I'm signing up members if you're interested.
If I ever have identical twins, I'm going to name them something completely unrelated to one another, like Edwin and Bob, or Frank and Pierre. I just like to be different.
Ever have a random midget walk by you? Maybe at the mall or in the park? You haven't seen one for like six months and BANG, midget walking by. It's unsettling. As if the randomness of life hired a midget to walk through a crowd of people, just then.
Some opinions should be completely subjective. It's only healthy to voice a badly thought out, fantastic piece of hogwash based entirely on a whim once in a while. People who live in Iceland are douchebags. I need not explain.
I hope we discover life on other planets, mostly because I hope it's edible.
Remember the first time someone told you the moon was made out of cheese? You know when you were like 6. I believed it. I believed it so much I started spreading the word around the schoolyard. Telling everyone. Then some smart kid who reads books comes along and disagrees with you. He tries to refute your cheesy moon claims with no proof whatsoever. We'll call him "moon expert". He tells you that in fact the moon is made out of rock, and you stand there and doubt him since you went so far with the cheese thing. You doubt this rock theory, after jumping directly on the cheese wagon without a question. Rock? How could this be? I already picked cheese so eat shit.
So they just came out with Tofurkey. It's tofu, but it's shaped like and kinda tastes like a turkey. When is it that you decide to become a vegetarian, but you still want your vegetables to look and taste like animals? You want a hamburger? No, I don't eat meat, but can you make these vegetables here look like ground up muscles of a cow shaped into neat circular patties? God bless the animals.
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