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On the 5,000th Day of Christmas...

So we all know that Christmas is taking over the rest of the year, and that all the stores start hawking Christmas like a streetwalker hawks her body starting the day after Thanksgiving. We also know that this "time of cheer" ends up being a "time of hatred/stress/anxiety/hopelessness." However, if you know how to deal with it, this can be a fun time after all.

My trip home started with Chad and I both forgetting to pack underwear. How, one might ask, do two brothers both forget to pack underwear for their trip home for Christmas? It seemed like an evil ploy to get my mom to buy me new boxers, but no...I'm just dumb that way. In the store, getting new boxers, my mom was telling my dad the tale of underwearless woe when a random lady overheard and started laughing really loudly. She then asked if we were said sons who were lacking said underwear. I hid out of embarrassment and Chad leered at her with an "I'm not wearing underwear" kind of look.

Later some girl decided to use me to see if a jacket would fit her boyfriend. She must be dating on ogre because the jacket she had me put on went down to my knees. I had to stand there looking like I was a mentally handicapped boy trying to figure out what size I was until she was done "groping" me. That was her word, "Sorry I'm groping you."

So after trying on lots of pants while not wearing underwear, trying to convince my mom to get me a "stoner beanie" (the ones with the ear flaps on the side), and coming to a complete loss as to what to get my dad for Christmas...I went home exhausted.

Other than that I golfed in the rain, ate lots of mint brownies, walked through more malls than I can count (I can only count to 3), visited my grandpa, felt guilty over how much my parents spend on us kids, felt sad when I got my bank readout that said I only had $30 left in my account, got rained on some more, ran into some high school acquaintances who recounted tales of weight-training class in which I was "getting ripped", played with my doggy, and didn't sleep enough.

Nuff said. Time to wrap some more presents and then sleep with my shotgun as I wait for that skulking bastard Santa to come down one of our chimneys. Oh, he'll make great friends with Mr. Remington.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!!
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