December 23rd, 2002:

may you be as drunk as I wish I could be

This is my last day. My last day for shopping. My last day for cleaning. My last day for packing. My last day for everything.

I have four stores to hit up this morning. I also have to go the the library and drop of some severly overdue books. I’ve done two loads of laundry and I haven’t cleaned anything. Needless to say, I have a bit of work to do. My mom called me yesterday just as I was pummeling a handicapped man for the last fruitcake at Sams Club. So I let him have it so I could speak to her. She asked me to pick up a gift for my father on her behalf and bring it by her place before I left for Canada. Thanks, Mom. So, I’ll be cutting this evening’s shopping festivities short in order to have dinner with them, and then I’ll clean and pack well into the middle of the night. Then tomorrow I wake up and leave around 10am to catch a plane.

I don’t know why I feel obligated to inform you that updates will be infrequent, at best, between now and just after the New Year. It’s not like this site has ever been updated at any defined frequency. However, if you were wondering, now you know.

May your holiday festivities find you intoxicated enough to tolerate those family members you cannot stand, and yet sober enough to avoid trying to get your cousin in bed again.

Just remember, December 25th isn’t Jesus’ birthday. In fact, we’re not quite sure when it was. So, instead of celebrating his birth, celebrate liquor, capitalism, and mass-marketed consumer products. If you really feel the need to celebrate Jesus, save that for June 10th, because Gee-Dubya said so.