This is the way the scenario should be working right now. Jingle Bell Rock- Redux booming in the background, regular shake-up of noggy toddies each night and that postcard tree-lit scene framed in a snowy picture window. I can close my eyes and even see Bambi and my buddy ES peering in, wishing they could cozy up to the fire.
Hold the phone! Is that a 33-LP I hear screeching as someone heavy-handedly drags the needle across it? Did someone smack me in the back of the head so hard that one of my eyeballs shot across the floor as I woke up from my deluded holiday dream? Is this watered-down, cheap, donkey piss I’m drinking instead of warm, creamy, single-barrel reserve, Kentucky bourbon? Sigh.
I don’t believe that I set my standards too high for the holidays. My tree is a x-mas screensaver that I somehow got to play across all my devices. This is just a huge all-around saver! Space, money and social life! I also don’t have to worry about fancy lights; I just got some red and green old-lady scarves from the dollar store to throw over my lamps. They create the wanted ambiance and when the holiday is over I can donate them to the Good-will for an old-lady to use. I score pearly gate points this way so it’s a twofer. I guess I should be happy with the whole cheap wannabe-horse piss thing. It is better than nothing or milk + nothing. But have you ever tasted that stuff? It’s as bad as potted meat.
Presents are something I don’t know whether to laugh or cry about. I’m not 10 anymore so I don’t expect new dollies (well, maybe new dollies would be nice but I want the adult kind– living, male and minimal clothing?) and I gave up on jewelry years ago because I’ve been told my choices in men will guarantee I won’t get any—uh, jewelry I mean. I don’t think that’s where my wallet went that one year.
My holiday will be a no rockin’ carols, no Billy Idol, no tree, no good booze, no postcards, no fireplace, no road kill breakfast, no twinkly lights, no presents, no strippers, one-eyed and red and green, old-lady-scarfed twofer.