Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna fa la la la la all over the place for the next few weeks while I try to maintain my sanity…er…yeah…I don’t know what this hell this is. I bet you’re thinking oh joy, who let this nut job have the ability to write and post publicly? That’d be Clem, it’s all his fault. Seeing as how glum and shitty 2020 has turned out to be, I’ve decided to go balls walls this holiday season and lucky for you, I’m going to tell you all about it.
So buckle up Buttercup…shit’s about to get merry. Let’s just say, I need a good laugh, and so do you. Trust me, we all need a drink or something right now.
As I have the
next week and a half free of any activity outside my usual, (aanndd the health authority just changed their fucking minds again and we can go back to our usual sporting as of 5 minutes ago, so game on…until things change again) I’m going to make the most of it. I don’t know about you, but the craziness of the impending holiday season loses its luster for me early, often falling short of the holidays themselves. And I don’t like that. It kills my jollies, prematurely…do they have a pill for that?
I don’t want to know the answer because I probably do know. Don’t verify. Please don’t.
No more jolly hoarding to the last minute
Every year, without fail, I always have way too much crammed in at the very last minute…why I think leaving shit to the last second makes things merrier, is beyond me. And every year, without fail, I’m left exhausted and cranky and full of regret for not enjoying the season, long after it’s all said and done. And every year, without fail, I vow to slow it all down and make the most of, but fail to correct my crazy ways every time the holiday season rolls around. It’s a vicious cycle.
But not this year. No siree, I’m not gonna let that happen. I’m hosting my own intervention of sorts, and I’m gonna let the magic flow this year, starting now.
I plan to make every damn day as bloody jolly and festive as I can until I’m sick of it all. I wanna hang on to that joy and wonderment as long as I can, and somebody try and stop me! Actually, please don’t. I need something fun to do right now!
I’ve admitted before, and I’ll admit it again, I ain’t no Martha. Nope, not even close. Ugliest cousin known to humankind and maybe 475th cousin removed 3 billion times maybe, but no, I’m not even close to a Martha. I try, but there ain’t no Martha awards for trying.
So, prepare yourself. For the most un-Martha like holiday season you’ve ever heard of. Drum roll please and get your fire extinguishers ready!
Anyway, on with my jolly reverie…ah yes, I can smell it now! The smells of burnt gingerbread emitting from my household, followed by the loud sounds of Christmas With Boney M and my profuse profanity flowing from the kitchen. The beautiful mist from the fire extinguisher, flowing from my front door as we air out the house, creating the most wondrous winter scene, similar to that of a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Before you ask…yes, Clem’s been recording and subjecting me to every new Hallmark movie put out thus far. Tis the season after all! Be merry bitches.
No, it’s not a nightmare, it’s my real life
Over the next few weeks, there shall be many days with many smells and sounds coming from my household as I burn many a cookie and confection with Pinterest fail epic-ness that’d make anyone envious. The sounds of my wonderful rendition of Aretha Franklin’s Joy to the World (complete with my uncoordinated and awkward dance moves) shall fill the neighborhood with merriment as the fire department hoses down my house…at least once per week. That’s Christmas, in a nutshell, at my house.
You feeling it yet?
The amazing Christmas décor that I will lovingly create (after a few hours of frustrated contemplation due to my indecisiveness, I’ll revert to my usual, fuck it and done mentality and make it ugly as fuck, just to get it done), shall deck the single tiny hall that I have, that connects the shitter to my kitchen (who the hell designed this house anyway…shitting where you eat…come on!). Aim high I say, aim high. We’re gonna deck that hall like it’s never been decked.
Poor décor choices I should be locked up for
Be afraid, be very afraid. If you’re sensitive to ugly, tasteless, poor holiday décor choices, definitely avoid all of my photos. I swear that what you will see, will change you forever. As for Clem, his décor extravaganza is much more exciting, but it’s all in the delivery.
Clem’s unique form of high flying house decorating will scream Christmas threw up here, once he finally decides there’s enough ice on the roof to make his usual treacherous sticking dismount, after he delicately launches himself off the roof (it’s all in the hips he says). I have the score cards all ready and the ambulance on speed dial. He assures me that the 3, five gallon buckets full of dog shit he’s collected throughout the year, should be enough to provide an appropriate anchor to slow down his descent. FYI, our little fur baby is only 9lbs. soaking wet and is about to turn 15 years old soon…nothing like a 100+ lbs. beast that shits like an elephant 5 times daily.
I guess we’ll find out just how many buckets of poodle shit it takes to slow down a large man’s descent from the peak of a bi-level with a 12/12 pitch…and I ain’t even talking about Santa. I wonder if that’s on a high school physics test somewhere. If not, it should be.
Ah yes, it’s Christmas. Get excited people. What more do we have to look forward to these days? Now, get out your decorations, play your Christmas tunes, burn some bloody baking and get in the mood. Yes, that’s an order!
I’m going to start with the horde of U.F.Os that I’ve accumulated the past couple of years, and work my way down the list from there. For anyone wondering, I’m not referring to the flying kind. I learned this from quilting, and quilters call their unfinished projects U.F.Os…UnFinished Objects. I admit, I have quite a few of those bitties kicking around, so that’s my starting point!
So, if you’re going to jump on in just like me, my wish for you is, may your glue gun always be hot and overflowing. May your howls of pain, from hot glue gun glue burns on your fingers that leave water filled blisters the size of dimes that you cover in festive themed Band-Aids (they should really make these), remind you of the holiday joy that you are creating. May the fire department be speedy and hot…wink, wink, and that you don’t have to run out at closing time to purchase a brand new oven because your other one just shit the bed at the start of baking for your kid’s bake sale at school the very next day. May the smell of flaming Chocolate Coconut Macaroons (from The Joy Of Baking cookbook), ever remind you of your perseverance in achieving the merriest damn holiday despite the insanity that is right now.
It’s time to get merry! Be jolly my friends!