Thursday, December 23, 2004

Seasonal ramble and the thing. You know? Yes.

Instead of being boring with a bunch hoo-ha about blah-blah-blah and whatever, I will be barfing out some prose. This is a mind dump, and it will serve no one in any good capacity. It will be seasonal though, as I am in my last hour of do-nothing at work, before I make like Sonny Bono and "head out" of this piece.

Merry merry, jolly jolly, and happy happy... to you and yours. Hopefully I will see you this weekend, so that we can kick it and be Christmas coo'. Word.

Jingle Bells, tell me a goddamn joke.
You see that there's no Santa, right Billy?
I got you a gift, it floats, it is a turd.
I like Dave Chapelle, but I don't like your version.
Bring me more mead, in a lead mug please.
My Chauffer is definitely not the best movie I've ever seen.
Sand makes a really bad replacement for toothpaste.
Santa is bringing me a steaming bowl of allergies this Deathmas.
Dashing through the rain, with a one eyed hooker named Pete...
Is this thing on? Tap-tap. Hello?
All I want for Christmas is your two front teeth.
All I want for Christmas is some hash-marked briefs. Some hash-marked briefs...
I'm sorry, I'm poor this year, so I'm giving out STDs as gifts.
Unwrap your herpes before it dries up. Faster.
Most forget, but Trading Places is a Christmas movie.
Dan Aykroyd is the best Santa one could ask for.
I bet he inspired this piece of shit.
What were they thinking with that?
Santa * drunk + lame fat kid / midget + HOTT chick = Seasonal hillarity?
No shit? Pass the crack on down here then, 'cause I missed that math class.
I like the idea of a black santa. Call it white guilt. Sue me.
I think a new oven makes a great gift.
Preferrably: one that self-starts.
Pilot lights are for suicidals and pseudo chefs.
And gas purists, I guess. Ho ho ho.
I hope Santa didn't see this little dance with words
because it might come off as insensitive.
Or this silly slice of verbage pie
which might be viewed as bigoted, if not fucking brilliant.
And I hope he never ran across this little piece of ass-scattery
just because it's kinda fucked up, and proves that I'm slow.
Screw it. I'll just wear my stocking as a sock.
Or as a ball-warmer. Whatever's clever. The left ball.
Holiday tag line: "Holidays. Maybe. Next Year"
Holiday tag line again: "Buy. Better. Shit."
For those you love to love.
Seriously, if Santa reads any of this trash, I swear...
I'll make diamonds out of that shit, so help me god.
Jingle Bells, I'm still waiting for my goddamned joke. Hello?

No, I am not almost 30. What a ridiculous question. And no, that is not my truck parked on your lawn. Your back lawn... I see. Behind the crushed trampoline, right? Nope. I haven't a clue about such a sad situation. Now leave me alone, I need to figure out this bus schedule...

Happy holidays to you and yours! Be safe, warm, and love the ones you love!

Damn you egg nog!

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Me and my combos.

So I'm sitting here at work, dodging the company-wide Christmas charade-parade (complete with singing choir, watered-down koolaid, and sugar-coated dogfood cookies. Replete with muted madness, and slightly resembling a rest-home celebration for Deathmas). Bored, and wishing to be left alone... I started a list of word parings, which I have feelings for.

I love these, and I feel it should be obvious:

1. Dr. and Dre (so whatchu wanme ta do...do...do...)
2. Mandarin and Tonic (keep them coming)
3. Open and Bar (mercy me, please include #2)
4. Breakfast and Buffet (plate over plate of bacon)
5. Long and Weekend (side of extra hangover, thank you)
6. Hot and Shower (perq of the first world)
7. Coffee and Cigarettes (my closest of friends)
8. New and Car (fucking windshield is about to be OUT)
9. Curious and George (who don't love them monkies?)
10. Fuck and A (yep)

I resent these, and they need no explanation:

1. Magic and Wand (wizards are tard, and fairies are corky)
2. Cell and Mate (welcome to OZ, bitch)
3. Gin and Anything (Black the fuck out)
4. Crank and Yankers (Adam whateverhisnameis should shut the fuck up sometimes)
5. Sales and Man (the "value added" takes from my soul)
6. Overflowing and Toilet (shit, shit, shit)
7. Easter and Bunny (Pastels suck, and Cadbury Eggs are filled with goat cum)
8. Politically and Correct (Nobody gets it, so lay off me already)
9. Flat and Tires (I'm gonna die on this freeway shoulder)
10. Fuck and U (yep)

These cause me mind-numbing confusion, so I will elaborate a tad:

1. Family and Values: I estimate the values to equal 0.00. Why is this an issue?
2. Jesus and Saves: Saves what? Time, for simpletons who aren't capable of reason I suppose.
3. Pro and Life: Who really rallies behind Death?
4. Bill and O’Reilly: Is he a robot? Forged from two-dimensional views of steel and the loudest tanning cream available?
5. Contemporary and Furniture: If it is here now, is not Contemporary?
6. Girl and Talk: This is a given. I believe that the two invented each other.
7. Free and Markets: There is nothing “Free” about them.
8. Self and Discipline: You have got to be kidding me. Do those words mesh to you?
9. Social and Hierarchy: Seems to me that the only way to establish yourself at the top of one of those is to kill everyone below you. That’s a loser’s game if I’ve ever heard of one.
10. Tomb and Raider: Worst. Movie. Ever. Her ta-tas weren’t even real. Damnit.