Blah Blah Blah

     I believe the modern Christmas truly is just for kids, as it should be. I am all for a childhood to be as car-free as possible. However for adults Christmas should turn into a feeling—as opposed to being a time of materialistically getting presents. This feeling inside should make us as conscious beings if for no other time than just one single day a year—feel like being a little bit nicer, or happier, or just down right more decent all around. Forget all the political and religious mumbo jumbo bullshit that is choking life right out of existence. I wish just for one day, people would look over their fences, and say “hello neighbor we can pick up sticks against one another tomorrow, but for today let us laugh, and breathe an easy sigh of relief because we made it here today to enjoy today.” ‘Let tomorrow go in whatever direction today could take us.’ Sad really!

     Here I am 35 years old, and I am yet again going to spend another well Christmas has come and gone, but here it is New Years, and I am again going to be alone, with no money to go out—no want to either. No special someone to ring in the new year with by choosing to be with that one person you want to have there with you the very minute things start over, and become refreshed in this new born of a year. Either with a kiss or—makin the sheets sing—I am more than hopeful next New Year’s Eve my sheets will be regular opera singers. (HAHAHA!)

An old friend of mine from high school messaged me a while ago saying “my daughter is selling Girl Scout cookies would I want some.” My first thought is of course “if her daughter is selling these cookies then why didn’t her daughter make the sales pitch.” I mean come on let her get all “Billy Mays,” on me, and make a sale. When I was a kid I remember my school was selling Rainforest Crunch which was a peanut brittle I think. I just know it sucked carrying it, and tasted like shit. If a kid pawned enough of this garbage off then they could win some useless hunk of shit thing they would never use. Like one of the “prizes” offered was a double plastic ball clacker thing. A person takes this fucking thing waves it up and down like a fucking asshole just to hear the balls go clack, clack, clack—another prize was this bright neon yellow fanny pack. Now fanny packs blew up at this time, and I wanted me that some bitch. So I schlep that crap up and down my ginormous hill, but it was a prize for attaining a set goal, and I wanted them—so I did it.

    After I finally decided on what cookies I wanted to get we had talked a few minutes, and caught up. Finally we said goodbye, and proceeded to stop talking; all of a sudden she messages me back, and said “ask people at work and other people u know please and ty.” I see that, and I automatically think “now you want me to sell your daughters cookies? Pshhh get the fuck out of here!” So if anyone wants any just let me know—so I can tell her! HaHaHaHa NOT!