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Posts Tagged ‘christmas’

santa and impossible dreams

That’s me in that picture. I was nine years old, wiped out from an exciting day opening presents, playing with my toys and sneaking sips of “grown up drinks” when no one was looking. Those Winnie-the-Pooh feetie pajamas were the height of sleepwear fashion back then, as was the decorative yarn in my hair.

I wrote thank you letters to Santa back then, because I was still young and naive enough to believe that the fat guy really existed. Nevermind that I had this inkling that reindeer couldn’t fly and that it was physically impossible for Santa to carry all those toys and swoop around the world in one night. A couple of listens to the Man of LaMancha Broadway soundtrack (as prescribed by my my mother) and I learned how to dream the impossible dream. So Santa was real, as was the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and the little goblins that lived under my bed and would bite my feet off if they hung over the bed at night. Which is why I wore feetie pajamas. The bites didn’t hurt as much.

Makes you wonder how much of your childhood thoughts were based on lies your parents told you. All those fictional holiday heroes were just figments of someone’s overactive imagination. Who thought these things up, anyhow? Hey, let’s make up some neat characters whose reward system of toys and candy and money will bribe the children into behaving and later on, when they are older, we’ll spring it on them that (ha ha!) we were just kidding and they will be crushed by the unfairness and duplicity of it all! Well, that certainly prepared us for dealing with politicians, didn’t it? Remember back in the 60’s when the great mantra of the time was don’t trust anyone over 30? They were right. Once you hit adulthood you begin lying to kids as if it were programmed into you.

My mother and aunts used scare tactics that placed Jesus and his dad in the role of Big Brother. Jesus will be upset if you do that! God is watching you! He’ll punish you for that! And then I would trip over the dog or bang my head on the cabinet and I would wonder what I did to make God punish me like that.

The lies seemed to roll of their tongues with ease. If you have a sore in your mouth, it’s from lying. Have you been lying to me? I used to lay in bed at night wondering how many Ethiopian kids were starving to death because I refused to eat my spinach. All that stuff had to be true. Because if it wasn’t true about the starving kids and the eyes in the back of my mother’s head (I never did find them, no matter how hard I looked), then everything must be a lie, including Santa. So I believed it all because not believing one thing would mean not believing anything they told me.

I went on asking for and accepting gifts from St. Nick. He didn’t bring my everything I asked for, of course and one year – I believe it was the year of that photo – I came to the conclusion that Santa was not bringing me a record player or a baby brother (Two sisters? Is that some kind of punishment?) because I was being selfish. I figured if I doctored up my Christmas list with some altruistic wishes, I would get everything I want because Santa would see that I was an unselfish, caring, compassionate little girl.

I asked for world peace. That’s what all the people on tv asked for when they were interviewed about their Christmas wishes. I asked that the starving kids in Africa get some food. And please, make Jesus stop watching me all the time, because that’s your job, Santa and it’s kinda weird to have the two of always knowing if I’m bad or good and it puts the pressure on me to be good for goodness sake.

So Christmas morning, I woke up and ran to the living room, expecting a nicely wrapped box under the tree that would contain world peace and an end to hunger, piled on top of boxes that contained all the good stuff I wished for. It’s not that I didn’t want world peace, I just wanted it in tandem with the doll whose hair grows. When I got to the living room, dad was already up, the tv on and, well, crap. The war was still going on! Which led me to believe that the kids in Africa were still starving, despite my Christmas wishes! Damn you, Santa, damn you to hell!

Much to my surprise I did get the record player. And I did get the doll with the hair that grew. I didn’t get the baby brother but, looking back, that was probably in my best interest. It turns out I didn’t really care much about world peace anyhow at that age, because I spent the rest of the day in Christmas glory, playing with my new toys and listening to my Disney records.

Now I’m thinking about Santa again, and what I would ask for if he was real, if there really was a guy who could grant me favors and wishes once a year.

It sure would be nice of me to wish for things like world peace, a good economy and a better rock radio station in New York. I could even do something really nice for the world and wish for an end to Uwe Boll’s career. But in a little twist of fate, it turns out that what I really want is….a record player.

It turns out that 37 years after that one Christmas of my youth I’ve been reminiscing about all morning, my Christmas at 46 will be pretty much the same as my Christmas at 9: the war will still be going on, kids will still be starving in Africa and I will most probably get my record player.

Would it make me appear any less selfish if the first record I play is “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”

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all i do NOT want for christmas is….

My family is already asking me what I want for Christmas. The things I want, they can’t give me. They either can’t afford them or just can’t work those kind of miracles. Besides, I really don’t know what I want. When I’m pressured with a question like that, be it my birthday or Christmas, I just shrug and ask for world peace. Or a strap-on. Either one leaves them blinking at me.

Instead of hurting my brain trying to come up with a list of things I want for Christmas this year, I’ve come up with a list of things I don’t want. That should make it pretty easy for those buying me gifts. Just take a look at this list, make a mental note of what’s here and buy me anything but.


1. The Octodog.

It’s not a dildo. It’s not a vibrator. It’s not a really kinky way of acting on your animated hot dog character fantasies.

It’s just a marketing tool to make parents feel guilty about using a regular old knife and fork to cut up their hot dogs.

If you buy me one of these, I will use it to turn your penis into an octopussy. If you don’t have a penis, I will just beat you to death with frozen hot dogs.

2. Spaghetti ice cream maker (see also lasagna, asparagus ice cream makers)

This must be one of those things they advertise on tv at 3am to really stoned people. Someone is buying this thing. I want to know who. Who on god’s green earth would buy something to turn ice cream into shapes? Not just shapes, but…asparagus? WTF? Here kids, I know how much you hate dessert, so I made your ice cream look like a vegetable. Served with eggs. Raw eggs. This is like the opposite of the vegetable flavored french fries they had when I was a kid.

Gets my vote for most useless kitchen gagdet ever.

3. 11487_Umbrella_Hat_S.jpg. An umbrella hat

I swear on everything that is holy, if you ever buy me one of these things, I will take it and stab you in the face with it. More than once. Until you bleed out.

Why do people purchase gifts like this? It’s one of those things you just don’t assume someone will like or use. Is it a gag gift? When you open something like this do you think, “gee I wonder if Aunt Mary really loves me and doesn’t want to see me struggling with grocery packages while trying to keep dry,” or do you think “gee, Aunt Mary must really fucking hate me and wants me to look like an idiot. Guess she never got over the time I had sex with her poodle.”

4. Crust cutter.

This gadget makes me weep for humanity. This is the height of laziness. Use a knife, ok? And stop making your kids think that food should be fun in order to be eaten. Stop turning sandwiches into shapes and meatloafs into cupcakes and mashed potatoes into sculptures of famous Greek statues.goodbites crustless sandwich cutter_small.jpg Ok? I know, you’re a creative mom. You’re artistic. You cry yourself to sleep at night knowing that your talents are going to waste on a couple of kids who don’t appreciate that you can make a plate broccoli look like a topiary of characters from the Wizard of Oz. You could have done better. You should have listened to people when they told you a liberal arts degree was a waste of time. Computer Science was where it was at, but you thought being a starving artist was romantic. Look at you now. Cutting crusts off of bread for two midgets who piss their pants and throw peas in your face and don’t appreciate your efforts to teach them shapes through organic peanut butter and banana sandwiches (this rant may or may not be personal).

6. vacuum cleaner

Goes without saying, no?

7. tshirts with clever sayings

Yea, yea. I know. My mom says hi. Your girlfriend is out of town. If I can read this I’m too close. You love beer, you love tits, you’re horny and you have a funny drinking problem.

I don’t care. Just because you think these tshirts are the ultimate in fashion sense and/or humor doesn’t mean everyone else in the world does. In fact, the only other people who think your tshirts are charming are wearing the same ones. Notice I’m not.

8. donate money to charity in my name

Don’t do this. Please. Don’t. First of all, I don’t want my name on the mailing list for Mother Anne’s Toy Hospital and Pyramid Scheme, Incorporated. Second, your favorite charity may not be mine. If you’re going to donate to the Rev. Phelps or the Moonies or Sarah Palin 2012 fund, I’d rather you didn’t do it in my name. And I know my relatives. Some of this is quite possible.

If this is something you want to do as a gift, finding out a little bit about the person before you do this may be a necessary step. Then you will know that I would rather my money go to the Home for Aging Porn Stars than the Let’s Throw Bombs at Abortion Clinics charity.

insatiable.jpg9. porn

Porn is a delicate thing. You can’t be too sure what someone will like. Unless you’ve been sleeping with them. Just because you saw Barnyard Babes Volume 6 in my VCR doesn’t mean I actually enjoyed it. I was testing it out. For research. I swear.

And really, sitting around with your family on Christmas morning while the yule log burns away on tv and Silent Night plays softly in the background is not the time nor place to be opening up a DVD Special Edition copy of Big Trouble in Little Vagina.

(If you insist on buying me porn, stick to the classics. Nothing says Merry Christmas quite like Marilyn Chambers on a pool table.)

10 Scratch off tickets

You might as well give someone an envelope and write on it “There may or may not be a hundred dollar bill in here” and then watch as they rip open the envelope, hyperventilating in anticipation, and then giggle when they realize they got the MAY NOT side of the present. “Well, there could have been 100 dollars in there, and that’s what counts, right?” No. If you want to give someone twenty dollars worth of fleeting pleasure for Christmas, buy them some acid or a few minutes at a glory hole. Don’t give them something that’s only going to end up being nothing.

Lottery tickets are the Russian Roulette of gifts.

And there’s my list. So what’s on your DO NOT WANT list?

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all i do NOT want for christmas is….

My family is already asking me what I want for Christmas. The things I want, they can’t give me. They either can’t afford them or just can’t work those kind of miracles. Besides, I really don’t know what I want. When I’m pressured with a question like that, be it my birthday or Christmas, I just shrug and ask for world peace. Or a strap-on. Either one leaves them blinking at me.

Instead of hurting my brain trying to come up with a list of things I want for Christmas this year, I’ve come up with a list of things I don’t want. That should make it pretty easy for those buying me gifts. Just take a look at this list, make a mental note of what’s here and buy me anything but.


1. The Octodog.

It’s not a dildo. It’s not a vibrator. It’s not a really kinky way of acting on your animated hot dog character fantasies.

It’s just a marketing tool to make parents feel guilty about using a regular old knife and fork to cut up their hot dogs.

If you buy me one of these, I will use it to turn your penis into an octopussy. If you don’t have a penis, I will just beat you to death with frozen hot dogs.

2. Spaghetti ice cream maker (see also lasagna, asparagus ice cream makers)

This must be one of those things they advertise on tv at 3am to really stoned people. Someone is buying this thing. I want to know who. Who on god’s green earth would buy something to turn ice cream into shapes? Not just shapes, but…asparagus? WTF? Here kids, I know how much you hate dessert, so I made your ice cream look like a vegetable. Served with eggs. Raw eggs. This is like the opposite of the vegetable flavored french fries they had when I was a kid.

Gets my vote for most useless kitchen gagdet ever.

3. 11487_Umbrella_Hat_S.jpg. An umbrella hat

I swear on everything that is holy, if you ever buy me one of these things, I will take it and stab you in the face with it. More than once. Until you bleed out.

Why do people purchase gifts like this? It’s one of those things you just don’t assume someone will like or use. Is it a gag gift? When you open something like this do you think, “gee I wonder if Aunt Mary really loves me and doesn’t want to see me struggling with grocery packages while trying to keep dry,” or do you think “gee, Aunt Mary must really fucking hate me and wants me to look like an idiot. Guess she never got over the time I had sex with her poodle.”

4. Crust cutter.

This gadget makes me weep for humanity. This is the height of laziness. Use a knife, ok? And stop making your kids think that food should be fun in order to be eaten. Stop turning sandwiches into shapes and meatloafs into cupcakes and mashed potatoes into sculptures of famous Greek statues.goodbites crustless sandwich cutter_small.jpg Ok? I know, you’re a creative mom. You’re artistic. You cry yourself to sleep at night knowing that your talents are going to waste on a couple of kids who don’t appreciate that you can make a plate broccoli look like a topiary of characters from the Wizard of Oz. You could have done better. You should have listened to people when they told you a liberal arts degree was a waste of time. Computer Science was where it was at, but you thought being a starving artist was romantic. Look at you now. Cutting crusts off of bread for two midgets who piss their pants and throw peas in your face and don’t appreciate your efforts to teach them shapes through organic peanut butter and banana sandwiches (this rant may or may not be personal).

6. vacuum cleaner

Goes without saying, no?

7. tshirts with clever sayings

Yea, yea. I know. My mom says hi. Your girlfriend is out of town. If I can read this I’m too close. You love beer, you love tits, you’re horny and you have a funny drinking problem.

I don’t care. Just because you think these tshirts are the ultimate in fashion sense and/or humor doesn’t mean everyone else in the world does. In fact, the only other people who think your tshirts are charming are wearing the same ones. Notice I’m not.

8. donate money to charity in my name

Don’t do this. Please. Don’t. First of all, I don’t want my name on the mailing list for Mother Anne’s Toy Hospital and Pyramid Scheme, Incorporated. Second, your favorite charity may not be mine. If you’re going to donate to the Rev. Phelps or the Moonies or Sarah Palin 2012 fund, I’d rather you didn’t do it in my name. And I know my relatives. Some of this is quite possible.

If this is something you want to do as a gift, finding out a little bit about the person before you do this may be a necessary step. Then you will know that I would rather my money go to the Home for Aging Porn Stars than the Let’s Throw Bombs at Abortion Clinics charity.

insatiable.jpg9. porn

Porn is a delicate thing. You can’t be too sure what someone will like. Unless you’ve been sleeping with them. Just because you saw Barnyard Babes Volume 6 in my VCR doesn’t mean I actually enjoyed it. I was testing it out. For research. I swear.

And really, sitting around with your family on Christmas morning while the yule log burns away on tv and Silent Night plays softly in the background is not the time nor place to be opening up a DVD Special Edition copy of Big Trouble in Little Vagina.

(If you insist on buying me porn, stick to the classics. Nothing says Merry Christmas quite like Marilyn Chambers on a pool table.)

10 Scratch off tickets

You might as well give someone an envelope and write on it “There may or may not be a hundred dollar bill in here” and then watch as they rip open the envelope, hyperventilating in anticipation, and then giggle when they realize they got the MAY NOT side of the present. “Well, there could have been 100 dollars in there, and that’s what counts, right?” No. If you want to give someone twenty dollars worth of fleeting pleasure for Christmas, buy them some acid or a few minutes at a glory hole. Don’t give them something that’s only going to end up being nothing.

Lottery tickets are the Russian Roulette of gifts.

And there’s my list. So what’s on your DO NOT WANT list?

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Alternative Christmas, Volume 8

I’ve woken up with bad songs in my head before. Remember the Total Eclipse of the Heart fiasco? And just this week I had Afternoon Delight careening through my brain one morning. But today. Today was the worst. The song I woke up singing this morning at 4am is surely a harbinger of doom and destruction, a sign that today is going to be a day of disasters.

I woke up singing Christmas Shoes.

As if Christmas songs in November isn’t bad enough, it had to that one?

Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there’s not much time
You see she’s been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want it to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus tonight

I don’t know about you, but that makes me want to beat the singer with a pair of stiletto heeled shoes. Seriously. I just don’t get songs like this. I mean, I don’t have anything against sad songs, per se, but this thing wants to jerk the tears out of your eyes with a fucking claw hammer. It’s emotional porn. Like those Chicken Soup for the Soul books, turned up about twelve notches.

Now I’ve got Christmas songs running through my head. It was pretty inevitable, even at this early date. Every store is playing Christmas music. My daughter has some emo pop punk Christmas thing playing all the time. My nephew seems to delight in singing the chorus from Jingle Bell Rock over and over and over again.

I hate Christmas music. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the stores didn’t start piping it in sometime around Halloween. By the time December rolls around, I want to deck the halls with random body parts of Salvation Army workers. I’ve already had enough of Winter Wonderland and the Barbara Streisand version of Jingle Bells is enough to make me convert to Judaism.

The thing is, I don’t mind getting into the holiday spirit. The holiday season is a nice time of year. Peace, love, family togetherness and all that crap. I don’t want to completely blot out the holiday atmosphere.

So each year I compile a holiday playlist that will keep me in the mood, but keep me from choking a random elf. I play these tunes as shop online or decorate the tree or watch my neighbor go down on his blow-up Santa. I load the playlist up on my iPod when my coworkers break out into a spontaneous chorus of It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.

I always take suggestions from the peanut gallery. That’s you, by the way. Add on any songs you think fit the bill here. The Alternative Christmas Playlist usually consists of alternate versions of Christmas classics, metal/punk bands doing holiday music, as well as offbeat, or just deranged, seasonal songs that deal with the less jolly side of Christmas (for instance, that Weird Al song about Santa going crazy at the mall, any South Park Christmas song, etc.) or just plain weird holiday songs. Please, no Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.

I’ll start off this year’s playlist. I’m looking to you to complete it.

In other news, holy crap, I’ve been doing this online for eight years.

King Diamond – No Presents for Christmas
Spinal Tap – Christmas With the Devil
Vandals – Christmastime For My Penis
Pennywise – Christmas in Hell
Captain Sensible – One Christmas Catalogue
Fear – Fuck Christmas
Christmas in Hollis – Run-D.M.C.
Snoop Doggy Dogg – Santa Claus Goes Straight To The Ghetto
Zebrahead – I Hate Christmas
Wesley Willis – Merry Christmas
Wall Of Voodoo – Shouldn’t Have Given Him A Gun For Christmas
The Damned – There Ain’t No Sanity Claus
Pansy Division – Homo Christmas –
The Frogs – Here Comes Santa’s Pussy
Stiff Little Fingers – White Christmas
Hanoi Rocks – Dead By X-mas
Vandals – My First Xmas As A Woman
Blink 182 – I Won’t Be Home For Christmas
Eazy E – Merry Mothafuckin’ Xmas
Arrogant Worms – Santa’s Gonna Kick Your Ass
Ramones – Merry Christmas Baby (I Don’t Want to Fight)
Pennywise – Christmas in Hell

For your viewing/listening pleasure, King Diamond’s holiday classic, No Presents For Christmas.

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365-55: forver walking through december

forever walking through december

Day 55 of 365: a year in songs and photos

Song: AFI, A Winter’s Tale

Taken with my new (THANK YOU SANTA) Nikkor lens.

I really like this photo. Every once in a while, something turns out exactly as I had it planned out in my head. And the song just clicked.

Hope everyone had a great day.

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365-54: merry christmas to you

merry christmas to you

Day 54 of 365: a year in songs and photos

Song: The Christmas Song (as sung by Perry Como)

May your day be merry and bright.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

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365-46: got my kiss records out

got my kiss records out

Day 46 of 365: a year in songs and photos

Song: Cheap Trick, Surrender

This ornament came with the son’s Kiss Army membership, which he got when he was about 7. He abandoned his Kiss fandom about two years later when he started playing guitar and came to the conclusion that Kiss sucks.

I was 16 before I reached that conclusion. Yea, I was in the Kiss Army, too. My first real rock and roll concert was Kiss at Nassau Coliseum circa 1974.

Anyone remember Kiss Saves Santa?

(Kiss Saves Santa doesn’t really exist. It was just a part of a Family Guy episode)

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