Friends, Enemies, and Internet Losers: I have returned.

Posts tagged “Christmas

Blue Christmas

So there isn’t any snow in West Vancouver this year. But it is cool and crisp. If you can’t have a white Christmas might as well celebrate it in a beautiful town.


Christmas Miracles – If I could be anyone…

If  could be anyone, I’d still be me but I might ask for a larger bank account and a swimming pool w/ hot tub. However, if I couldn’t be me, here’s three alternatives off the top of my head that I could probably live with.

#1) The guy in this picture: Anthony Bourdain

If you could travel the world, writing books, eating good food, smoking and drinking, and get paid for it, why wouldn’t you?

#2) The guy who took this picture: Unknown

Apart from the obvious reasons, this girl having an amazing looking body probably being my first, I’d like to have taken this picture so that I could have seen the model’s face. It is very likely the picture was taken to highlight her tattoos and figure but women should always have faces. Crumb got himself in hot water for letting his misogyny show by drawing headless women. My father once brought back a painting from a business trip; it depicted three, pregnant, faceless women. My mother hated it. She felt it was far too representative of the culture from which it came, a culture whose views on women my mother most certainly did not share. When my father passed away, the painting quietly disappeared.

#3) Either the person who took this photo or the person in it.

I think the reasons for this are rather straightforward. To see the Earth with no borders or fences, or the need for them, would be a Christmas gift indeed.

The Annual Pre-Christmas Blog

Those of you who are veterans of my ranting ways will probably be expecting my stock “Christmas Isn’t What You Think It Is” blog right about now; Not this year. This year, because I seem to be in an uncharacteristic good mood, I want to send out a message of peace and joy to all the losers out there who will be by themselves this Christmas.

If you’re alone at Christmas…

You’re also not with Andy Dick, Glenn Beck, Ann Coulter, or me. Count your blessings.

You’re not flying home wedged between two bumpkin elephants who are excited about “bein’ in the ‘Big City’ for the first time” while trying to peel the plastic wrap off a luke warm chicken breast as the guy one row ahead of you in business class complains that his champagne is tepid.

You’re not trapped in your kitchen with Aunt Bea, who’s just polished off her fourth double Glenn Fiddich, as she explains to you that Uncle Bob is now a monster in bed since he started getting regular prostate exams.

You won’t have to fake a smile and begrudingly say “Thank you” after unwrapping the Official Toby Keith Belt Buckle your sister-in-law was certain you’d love.

You can change the radio station to avoid hearing “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” for the 10,000th time without having your hand smacked by your mother who still thinks the song is funny.

You can do heroin, cocaine, mushrooms, LSD, or whatever tickles your fancy at the dinner table without having to admit to your family that you have a drug problem.

You can sit around the house naked hoping there really is a Santa Claus and that he knows Sasha Grey.

Finally, if you’re alone at Christmas, you’re guaranteed to have the most sensible conversation you’ve ever had over Christmas dinner.

Merry Christmas everyone.

If it's H1N1 I'll be soooooooo embarrassed

Today is a lazy day.  I don’t feel well.  I am sure that it is not the flu, but just the first week following a paycheque weekend.  I am so lazy, in fact, that I am not typing this; I am dictating it using voice recognition software.

*Author’s note:  Though I know what the word means, I have never really understood “onomatopoeia” until right now.  Every time I breathe in through my runny nose, my computer writes “if.”

My ill health may also be a symptom of my recognition that Halloween is gone and the long, slow descent to Christmas has begun.  I have no problem with Christmas but the bullshit that surrounds it tires me on the best of days.

I often find the Christmas season to be much like Tim Burton’s first Batman film: it wasn’t bad but could never have been as good as we were led to believe it would be.  Christmas, it seems, would be far more enjoyable if we didn’t wait for its arrival for two whole months, spend two hours opening presents, another three stuffing your face, and then be expected to spend the entire next week buying more on sale.

I like Halloween because it is a useless but fun holiday.  I enjoy Saint Patrick’s Day and New Year’s Eve for the same reason.  Days like Thanksgiving, Valentine’s, and Christmas claim jurisdiction over abstracts: gratitude, love, peace, and joy.

Clichéd as it is, naive as it may be, I still believe the world would have more gratitude, love, peace, and a joy if we spent more than three days thinking about them.

The following line was dictated by my runny nose:

if this is the if if if