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« Raleigh Ho! I Went To Mexico! | Main | ... But Resistance Is Character-Forming Might Be My Favorite Mind Name »

Saturday, December 22, 2007


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Christmas Fucker

Forget the schizophrenic government taxing system. I had to come face-to-face with my schizophrenic in-laws today. At least I can pretend the government is an old wive's tale.

Miss Luongo

Nothing's free. Bah, humbug.


What, the government is an old wive's tale? Is that our 30-something right of passage? First the Santa myth gets shattered for us, and then at 35, we learn that the tax man is really... our parents?! Nooooooooooo!!!


By the way, as a disclaimer, I didn't notice the pot leaves on the background of that last Santa photo until just now. I thought he was just a vague representation of evil Christmas, you know, the greedy cigarette smoking Santa.



It's a cruel world, MO. That's why I give it to my kids up front. Santa is the fed ex man. I'll be taking a third of your income. And happily ever after is boring as shit.


Well, everything gets boring sooner or later, but happily ever after is nice for a little while at least, anyway. Cheer up, Siss, Christmas headaches will all seem worth it on Christmas morning, and then it's over for another year!


Ah, yes. Christmas morning.

Last night the girls stayed over at Keyser's sister's. We planned to wrap, have a nice dinner and watch a rented flick. But just as we were finishing up the wrapping, I noticed the label on a box of kinex I had bought for Claire. It was the only thing she had specifically asked for this year and last year, when Santa had "improvised" on her list of items, she announced Christmas morning that she must not have been a good girl because Santa didn't fulfill her list.

The kinex I held in my hand last night were the wrong kind. She wanted the kinex chains and the box I was holding did not have the chains. I went white. Keyser, with a look of dread on his face, saw my expression. He also knows my tenacity when it comes to getting the job done right. At 8:30 we began our trek from NW Philly, to West Philly, to South Philly, and finally into dreaded North Philly. Every store we hit was sold out until the second North Philly stop when the clouds parted and we found the kinex chains. On our way back to the car I acknowledged how leaving our safe haven neighborhood gives me a sense of traveling abroad. The mother at store number three who told her kid to shut the fuck up and pick out his gift before decided to spend her money on something worth while was priceless. On the way home, down Allegheny, I recalled Julie's crack head house mate as we passed corner after corner of sales transactions, including the infamous K&A intersection where one can chose from a buffet of sex and drugs on the street corner.

We ended up at a bar at 10:30 where we inhaled burgers and contemplated the importance of kinex chains. If nothing else, it made this year a memorable one.

And on Christmas morning, Claire will no doubt be certain that she has, indeed, been a good girl.

Miss Luongo

I can't bear the Christmas angst. Guilt and reward, guilt and reward. It stresses me out.


What the heck is a kinex chain? Anyway, I'm sure your seedy Philly adventure seemed worth it this morning when sweet innocent Claire's little face lit up upon opening it. Or so I hear. Happy children kind of creep me out.

The guilt and reward aspect of Christmas doesn't bother me so much, (Nobody really ever gets coal anyway) it's the stress of trying to find gifts for people. I never know what to get anybody, and on top of that I never seem able to get it together enough to start thinking about gifts until 3 days before Christmas, so I wind up wandering around some crappy mall, wondering who might like a Baywatch calender or a Best Buy gift certificate.

And then I buy them and go, aw crap, nobody is going to like my stupid gifts. So then I go back out and buy more stuff so that at least if my gift giving skills are crappity crap, at least they get several items of it.


"And then I buy them and go, aw crap, nobody is going to like my stupid gifts. So then I go back out and buy more stuff so that at least if my gift giving skills are crappity crap, at least they get several items of it."

This gave me the best Christmas morning laugh! I do the SAME thing. I was at Rite Aid last night around 11 p.m. scavenging around for lotion kits and stupid mugs to enhance the already rediculous, non-useful, unwanted gifts I bought for family members last week. I call it the Christmas Compensation Operation - What I got you sucks, so here, have more of it.

Claire loved the Kinex. They are a magnetic version of legos.

Merry Christmas!


"Guilt and reward, guilt and reward."

Are you saying this isn't the meaning of Christmas? Huh.


You had me at "happy children kind of creep me out." It's a little more understandable when said happiness comes from waking up Daddy by inserting a finger into each nostril right down to the palm. Not many people know how to make me scream in pain and laughter at the same time. Had to give the li'l fucker his props.


Long time no see! How's family life in Bucharest? Children are better beaten and not heard, Volguus. 2 or 3 more incidents like that, and you'll see what I mean.

Siss, that's the meaning of Christmas for children... for those of us with the shattered Santa myth, it's all about your well-named Christmas Compensation Operation, which is based on a similar principal, but slightly more insidious.


Michael - You sell yourself short when discussing your gift purchasing skills. The Jack Black Nacho Libre full head gear were a hit with at least the kids receiving them and a certain Uncle and Aunt whose kids were too old to receive. Next time you are in Mexico, pick up two more for us older ones who are still kids in heart. Until then, we'll wrap ourselves in our Mexican blankets and keep the heat low this winter.


Thanks Uncle Rob... I have this problem where once I leave the room children stop aging, so if I don't see them in a while they're still the same age I saw them last. Sam is probably at that age where it's embarrassing to wear a Mexican wrestling mask, but I figure he'll get over it sooner or later and someday he'll want to be a Mexican wrestler again. Or maybe at least, pretend to be one for halloween.

Glad you older kids like the blankets! I have a couple myself, and my favorite part is the smell of lanolin.

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