Are You Even Paying Attention?

For many of you, Christmas is a time of year to celebrate the birth of your savior.  For others, it is a time to celebrate the joy of friends and family.  Some of you may just be jonesing for the presents with your names on them under the tree.  Some of you may be naked, smeared in blood and strange symbols, dancing around a blazing fire in a clearing deep in the woods, celebrating the Winter Solstice, thanking the Earth Goddess and banging Satan.  And then there are those for whom Christmas is just another shitty day in a long, long stream of shitty days.  For me, Christmas falls in there somewhere.  So what I am trying to say is that whatever Christmas means to you, think of your fondest Holiday greeting, and pretend that I said it to you.  Then go on and celebrate Christmas in your own special way.  But please don't kill the dog or the kids.  They don't know what the fuck is going on anyway and are innocent.  Hey, Solstice people, send me some photos.  And if you wish to imagine that I said 'embugger me, Beelzebub' to you, well go ahead, even though I probably didn't.  But I might.  For all the rest of you, take that quart of eggnog you bought at the super market over Thanksgiving for god only knows why, and add in that half fifth of Canadian Club that was left over from another long, dreary, lonely Christmas Eve, and mix the two together.  Shake well. Next, blow out the pilot flame in your oven, and turn the gas way up.  Adjust the rack to the middle position.  Sit down at the kitchen table, if you have one, or on a wooden crate if you don't, or just stand there, and pour yourself a nice big glass, ignoring the possibly rancid smell.  Sprinkle some nutmeg on top if it makes you happy. Or some gin.  Or vodka.  Drink up. Now that you feel so sick to your stomach that you wish you were dead, go kneel in front of the oven and stick your head in.  Don't worry about the grease streaks on your cheek, it won't matter where you are going anyway.  Put a dish towel down first if it really bothers you.  If you are an idiot and you followed the above instructions with an electric oven, then your hair is probably on fire right now and you should seek help.  Running, hair aflame, screaming down the middle of the block is a good way to attract attention.  Unless, of course, none of your neighbors give a shit about you, which is part of the reason why you are running down the street naked on fire to begin with, but that is another tale for another time.  Oh, I skipped over some of the instructions.  Before you go to the oven, take off all of your clothes while drinking the nog.  When you are good and snockered, and are slurring your words in that adorable way that drunks so often do, start calling your friends, which shouldn't take long since you are all alone on Christmas, and wish them a Happy Holiday.  Not a Merry Christmas, as they may not celebrate the Christian Holiday, but the more politicly correct nondemoninational all faiths greeting.  Don't tell them to fuck off, as you want them to feel bad later when they learn of your death, or in the case of you electric oven folks, your recent committment to the loony bin.  You should leave them wondering why and how they failed you.  Could they have done anything different?  Well, could you have?  If you are wondering this, then the answer is probably yes, you could have. Pick up the goddamned phone and just call.  It will only take a few moments of your precious time to wish them well, and may mean more to them than you could ever possibly imagine.  And a facebook or myspace greeting is a cop out and it sucks. And if you have to listen to a slurring drunk or crying, lonely slob for a few minutes, well, so be it.  Your fucking kindle, or Ipad, or Xbox, or giant ribbed black dildo ain't going anywhere, unless you forgot to turn off the dildo and it vibrates itself under the sofa and you sit there wondering days later what that noise is and where the fuck is it coming from, and then you find it in the dogs bed all chewed up and licked clean along with your underwear in a similar state.  And that nice roast beef, ham, turkey, goose, spam for you Hawaiians, or god forbid, tofu for you really messed up people, well, enjoy it, but please remember to be kind to others, people and animals alike.  And yes, even tofu people, I'm sorry that I made fun of you but I am not coming over for dinner.  

 This Xmas note is meant to be taken lightly, not literally. I am going to be spending Christmas with a dear friend, and I am going to be calling on the phone other dear friends that I am not with who mean a lot to me and that I am grateful for them having been a part of my life.  And if I don't call you, well, then there is always the nog.

 So remember this Holiday,

Call a friend,

Adopt a pet,

take some food to someone less fortunate,

give a toy to a child who has none,

pet your dog,

tell someone that you love them,

throw out some bread for the birds,

Make sure that you vote in every election that you can between now and 20 January 2017..........it may well be the last chance that you will get...........

Anybody but you...

There I was

soaked wet through my pants

cause I was dancin'

dancin' with the King of France

J the B

He’s been to England He’s been to France Stuffed inside a smugglers pants Israel, Egypt, Iraq and Iran Planes and trains and caravans Followed Jesus into China And all over Asia Minor Killed over a fucking whore For a king’s honor Nothing more Head chopped off On the floor Now he rests in Damascus In his tisket tasket basket Wants to follow Jimmy Buffet Wants to know just what the fuss is Parrot head, Baptist head Maybe even a Deadhead so many options for the Baptist Awaiting Jesus In Damascus Anybody know what time it is?

We like dancing and we look divine...........

Insurers lose it because sick people are signing up for health insurance. The nerve of some people................

if you disregard the demonstrators at trumpukes swearing in there were like 10 people there at the most

are you poor? sick? elderly? Paul Ryan just wants to make your life worse.

dear mr trumpuke: what's it like to be a fat blowhard?

“He was closing down, letting the light bulbs burn out one by one until his apartment, his mind and his body went dark.”

Viv Albertine