Because the management company of the complex where my office is located has been pumping bad, very bad, Christmas music out into the courtyard since Monday, I'm a little on the snarky side today. I wouldn't mind so much, because I'm feeling the Christmas spirit and all, but they are playing the same 3 damn songs over and over and over and over and over. The sound is making me want to seal Santa, all of his elves and everything else Christmas related into an escape-proof cell, in the jungle, with every jingle bell ever made (I would never do that of course, because I am a greedy one, and I still want my presents).
I have a smidgen of crankiness in me, but my will to get over it is strong, and I thank Friday for that. This week has been one of the longest weeks, ever, for no real reason other than I can't look at one more pretty process flow chart or troubleshoot one more XML file. I keep thinking if I stare at it long enough, the XML will rewrite itself. It is Christmastime (don't get annoyed that I'm using a big red font here) and magic stuff can happen, can't it? I just saw a unicorn outside.
OK, here we go:
I doubt 2 - 5 of this Five for Friday post will compare with this first one, but please read on or you will hurt my feelings. I found a blog post this morning that had my sides aching from the commentery on strange Christmas lyrics, and the post is better than that peanut butter I had for breakfast. I will give you a sample, but please--pretty?--read the full blog post so you can laugh so hard you get cramps (then you can go home for the day):
"And why is the couple planning this sham snow wedding saying to the parson, “Hey, man, you can do this wedding when you’re in town.” First of all, I think it’s just a tad disrespectful to refer to this snow pastor as “man”, second, “when he’s in town?” You just crafted him out of snow! He’s not going anywhere, you didn’t even give him legs. I’m pretty sure he can officiate your creepy snow wedding any time." - Buster Blonde from Persephone Magazine
If
brash impiety makes you nervous or uncomfortable, then please look away
from the magnet. Everyone else with a sense of humor? You are
welcome. Poseidon bought this magnet for me a couple of years ago. The magnet hangs proudly,
on our refrigerator, for all to see. This morning, while leaning on the countertop, trying to wake up, and blindly digging my spoon into my jar of peanut butter, I saw it and it made me laugh.
Seriously, each and everytime I see this magnet, I sniggle (snort and giggle at the same time). "So, where is my fucking pony?" By the by...I'm still waiting for that pony.
Christmas gits = gift wrapping, and gift wrapping is an art. I start out thinking, "Oh, this should be easy." But the finished product looks as though I studied every gift intently, broke them down completely, then reassembled them into something resembling little abominations marching off an assembly line of mass reproduced Cubist art.
"Next to a circus there ain't nothing that packs up and tears out faster than the Christmas spirit." -- Kin Hubbard
Few truer words have been spoken, and this quote reminds me of a Christmas card my sister bought years ago (I blogged about this once before). The card had a happy shiny Christmas scene on the front, but the inside read, "Merry Christmas, but just remember at 12:01 am on December 26, it's back to F' You Charlie."
Great reading for those with a privilege bias. Just kidding. Sort of.
"Orphans, dead parents, lonely children at Christmas, morose spoken word recordings, everything you love about the holidays. Move the turkey over so you can fit your head in the oven." -- April Winchell
--Amphitrite
