It’s The Most Magical Time of The Year
Ah, December. What a magical time. Frost in the air, cookies in the oven, stockings hung on the mantle with care. It’s a time when families gather all around and set out as a pack to choose one tree that will serve as a reminder to the other trees not to get too cocky as we parade it through the streets atop our four-door, family vehicles before dragging it inside and decorating it’s withering body with sparkles and various other whimsical baubles. We prefer to put them in front of large windows so that its slow and drawn-out, but none the less beautiful, death tells passerby’s “Hey, hey look at all this shit we can pile on this thing. I know right? Keep it moving, plebeians”.
O Christmas Tree
O Christmas Tree
How much better does your slowly rotting carcass look in our house that it does from that
tacky whore, Debra’s?
Back from my holiday hiatus! I’ll be writing about America’s birthday in two parts.
It’s the 4th of July what a day it is. Full of fireworks and the aroma of succulent lips and assholes ground into sludge and packed into a phallus fill the air and they spittle and crackle on open flames. It is a day where we celebrate what makes our country wonderful and we celebrate the day that our country rose up and said “we don’t need no man”. A day where family and friends celebrate their freedom by doing keg stands and mosquitoes feast like the very kings we fought to reject.
Most of all, it is a day for the children with their face stained red and blue from the endless patriotic confections and treats. The children who look forward to the risk of blowing off limbs and appendages with great rockets of fire and spark. Innocent games of football and chicken can be seen all along the shoreline as I looked out onto the great sea that will soon sport a sunset. Then the festivities would begin as stars are replaced by blooms of colored flame. Magical.
Until then there I was sitting in the kitchen as the only twenty-something at the party, avoiding all questions of college and future plans. If one more person asked me what I have been up to I was going to start my own firework finale right there aimed at their open nonsense holes. What did they want me to say? That I’ve been raising llamas in my panty drawer? That I had been giving out free tattoos to children in Africa? That I had been selling my own blood to fetishists in Kazakhstan? I just binge-watched “Orange is the New Black” for three days on netflix. Is that pleasing? It was for me. Continue reading