The Holidays Are Over and The Joy of Putting Xmas Gifts Together

First of all, as if you can't tell by my latest posting, I survived Christmas Hell once again.  The one Christmas gathering my significant other and I hosted for her side of the family didn't cause me to flip out, fall down on my knees, sob openly and then get up, retrieve my flamethrower from under the bed, go back and set everyone on fire this time around.

I only had two instances where I had to leave a heavily populated room due to stress.  For me, a heavily populated room is anything over five or six people.  I feel like I'm trapped in a herd of insane, babbling bison in that situation.  I can't handle it.  One thing that sets me over the friggin' edge is when three people are talking to you at the same time about three extremely different topics.  My head is turning faster than a possessed girl in a 70's horror movie in order to focus and hear what each buffalo has to say.  For whatever reason, people have a tendency to pull this hilarious routine on me-  intentional or not.  Maybe they want me to pull out the flamethrower.  I must seem like someone who will calmly listen to the subject matter presented and, in turn, shoot wisdom out of every orifice for the talker's benefit or possibly cause the talker to laugh by spurting out an absurd or observational joke that may have something to do with what they're rambling about.

You say you made a macaroni and cheese dish with less flavor than Styrofoam cups covering a decrepit whore's wrinkly worn down nipples?

Well, I can't wait to try to digest that dish you made for our supposedly joyous Christmas meal without spitting it out and blinding your baby with unappetizing chunks of what you jokingly refer to as food.

It's all a pretty picture I paint, I know.

Then someone else may talk about trains and fishing lures.  I will attempt interest while also fantasize about fucking Mila Kunis deep in her tiny, puckered asshole.

Ta-dah!

Here's a joke I made up for ya that's both absurd and observational.  Best of all, it's an easy one to remember.

Question: What's the difference between a monetarily wealthy kid on Christmas morning and a poor kid, that same day, that lives in a run down apartment with a bunch of relatives that are also poor?

Answer: The wealthy kid will likely probably not give too much of a shit about what he gets when he opens his gifts because he already has everything without asking.  He might grow up, feeling entitled.  Maybe not.   Now the poor kid is likely just grateful that he has a big family that loves him.  He may envy the rich kid every so often but he ultimately knows what is important and what's not.  Does he feel entitled?  Hell, he's just trying to survive.  Living his life is all the gift he needs.

Spoiled girl secretly enters the room at night, then carefully binds mother and father's limbs while they slumber peacefully, dreaming of new things to acquire and gingerly scoops parent's eyes out with a spoon because she didn't get that latest technological piece of shit that will go out of style in a couple weeks and no longer make her friends green with envy.  Later, after the merry mayhem and profuse bloodshed and disemboweling of daddy, she'll get her own reality show, thanks to the hyperventilating, over publicized rabid press coverage.  A happy ending that will certainly appeal to today's wonderfully sane society.

It's not so much a joke but it's something I think people should think about.  I think the poverty stricken people around the world think the wealthy in America suck for a lot of reasons.  It's not completely envy.  Maybe not at all.  You tell me.  I wonder if they believe we're arrogant and entitled, too, to a greater degree.

The wife and I overdid the gift giving to each other this year.  Made all the Christmas gift givings in the past look a might tame.  TV.  Camera.  Exercise machine for me.  I put that together that today.  Jewelry.  A cool graphics tablet thingamajiggy that allows you to draw with a pen while your drawing shows up on the PC monitor.  I forget what else.  Too excessive.  In a way, it gave me a bad case of "the guilts."  Perhaps I shall shed these feelings of guilt, layer by layer, by distributing free bars of soap to the hobos under the bridge.  Sorry.  That isn't right.

I really wish the lady would have come, shipped in a special container with this item, when I ordered it.  She could have made me some delicious mac and cheese.  Darn it.

But, at the moment, I'm feeling kinda vulnerable and anxious now that I've said what we got this festive holiday season.  Don't rob me!  I'm nuts.  Who knows what type of funny rascally rabbit I'll pull out of my hat?  For real. Fair warning, my friends.  Group hug?  No?

I've figured out how this thing goes with that thing, for the most part.  I'm learning how to do new stuff that's normally a little above my intelligence capabilities.  But I'm still one hell of a guy, after all.  There are still hook ups and procedures I don't quite understand.  But I'm going to make a real attempt at being patient with understanding things and more patient with people- this year and beyond.  I'll try working on that.  No more Mr. Flamethrower Guy.  Unless I'm provoked.  :-D

Side Note: So far the comments I've been getting about the exercise machine suggest that I got it as a gift from a family member.  This is not the case.  My wife and I purchased it and had it delivered to myself to help lower my blood sugar and high blood pressure counts and more.  Thank you and have a rip-roaring day, damn it.  

Barreling Through Christmas With Determination and Valium

So far, I haven't allowed my depression from not having Mom around get to me this year.  It's been 6 years since she's been gone and she was truly the glue, along with my grandpa, holding the family together.  Now the family is fragmented.  One won't attend a Christmas gathering because so and so will be there and another will make it impossible to reach because they don't care about getting together for one reason or another and on and on it goes.

You would think everyone could put aside their differences and petty hates to get along but nah... no such luck.

Still, I'm barreling through the four and possibly five different family Christmas gatherings that I have attended and possibly will attend- that is determined if we can ever reach him.  One of these gatherings is coming up Christmas day.  Unfortunately, we're hosting it.  It is exhausting so far, with the house cleaning part, decorating windows, food preparation and so on.  Nope, not my idea.  I'm doing all of this strictly for my significant other.

She deserves it, wants it and it will make her happy as long as I don't lose my temper, become frustrated and stick the tree up somebody's ass, completely obliterating their colon.  That last part, knowing the in-laws, could happen.  I can count on them to make things even more difficult and convoluted than they need to be.  An old story.

This never worked for me.  Not even with that toothless meth addicted midget I found in the alley.  Her oozing sores were a dark Christmas red and green.

I'm usually an old grouch, Grinch and sometimes, a full on bastard around the holidays.  I don't want to be but that's just how it is.  My depression, frustration with crowds, family, traffic and all things stressful, pushes me to the edge. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for being a little less than festive- well, a lot less festive the last 6 years and I'm desperately trying to make up for it.  Yes, this time around, I am really trying to make things as good as they can be this Christmas- for the wifey and for lovable ol' me.

What a beautifully festive display.  Someone finally gets it right.

The positive approach is better than being negative.  No matter what obstacle has been thrown my way, I've tried to make the best of it.  Hell... why not?  And you should see all the nice gifts I got my Sweety this year.  Jewelry, even!  Gosh, I'm a hell of a guy.  And I haven't broken the bones in my hand with all of the patting myself on the back one bit.

What a happy-go-lucky elf I am.  Not at all driven to insanity with all this holiday cheer and shit.

Yesterday, it was raining for the 10th day in a row.  I hurriedly got in my truck, got my rain poncho out and came back inside, on the bottom floor.  I was bound and determined to go for a walk in the park.  Fuck the monsoon we were having around this goddamn area.  I didn't feel like going up the stairs to my apartment and putting it on.  Instead, I put the rain poncho on downstairs in front of the neighbor's door at the bottom of the stairs.  Sure enough, while my head was buried and I was scrambling to get this rain poncho on right, the neighbor woman below, with her baby in her arms, pops out her door, suddenly and scares the shit out of me.

"Goddamn!," yelled I.  I added, "Holy shit!"

The neighbor smiled and then asked a stupid question, "Is it raining?"

I was soaked from my head down to my boots.

I do so much love it when people do this.  When people ask me obvious questions, I immediately get a boner.  In fact, anytime someone does something ridiculous in front of me, I sport wood.  Fuck, I must be hard all the time, eh?  Pull out in front of me, suddenly, with your crappy little Smart car and I'll pitch a tent in my pants like no other.  Of course, I will run over your Tonka Toy piece-o-shit with my big V-8 pickup truck while doing so, but hey, isn't that showing some Christmas spirit?

Anyway, after ranting away about how dismal the weather has been in the area, I told the neighbor to have a Merry Christmas.  Maybe a little forcibly, in tone, though I didn't meant to say it like that.  She wished me the same, politely, and said she had to go to work.  I wondered how she was going to go to work with a baby in her arms, but, oh well.

Maybe I'll be give her a little Christmas cheer and let her have the close parking space next to the main apartment door below a couple times.  I'm a real giver this year.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, everyone.  Unfortunately, I'm gonna have to disrupt my blog posting challenge for the next few days because of the overwhelming upcoming events I'll be working on.  Family feasts and more.  That means I won't be able to post anything for the next two days, at least.  Believe me.  I would much rather do the blogging thing than- wait a minute- I gotta be positive no matter what.

Wish me luck!

A Praying Mantis by my door, waiting to ponce on me and bite my head off.  I did mate with her, after all, and that's how they do it in Praying Mantis World.  Begone, vile fucked up looking monster!  I will forever regret fucking you in the ass.  Especially now that my head has been bitten off.

Krampus- Santa's Sidekick

I remember when I was a kid and this evil looking thing with horns on it's head busted down the bedroom door and snatched me by the scrawny neck, looked me in the eyes and said, "You're going to take my place one day."

Then he threw his ghastly head back and let out a long howl, quickly followed by sinister laughter.

My dog, Sparky, came into the room and began gnawing on the demonic dude's ankle.  I suppose Sparky was defending me, in his mind.  Krampus calmly bent down, picked Sparky up by the scruff of his neck and said, "I'm gonna shit on your head," quite matter-of-factly.

As promised, Krampus took good ol' Sparky to the bathroom, plopped him in the bathtub and took a big healthy demonic dump on his furry lil head.  Sparky shook the steaming turds off his noggin, yelped and ran out the door.  It turns out that demon shit smells like a mix of honeysuckle and pinewood.  But it still looks like regular shit.  Except for the half-digested human head or two.

Meanwhile, I listened to Krampus' footsteps as he went downstairs and opened the refrigerator door.  Deeply exhausted from a busy day of playing Kick The Retarded Boy Across The Street, I fell fast asleep again.  I came to find out the morning after, that he had made himself a sandwich, before leaving the house and judging from the looks of things, he preferred the corned beef over turkey.  I thought that was a good choice.

Sharing a laugh with good ol', jolly ol' St. Nick.  It makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Had I known back then that I was dealing with a Krampus, I guess I would have been a bit more frightened.  But he seemed like an honest, straight-forward guy that really knew who he was in life and was okay with that.  I always say, The one who deludes himself in life is one of the biggest fools of all.  I know I'm certainly not the first to say something like that.  I've read of that same general idea here and there and you likely have, as well.

In any case, I have this info about Krampus, a mythical creature that has it's roots in German folklore, I'd like to share.  One of my sources is from Wikipedia.  The other is from the video description on YouTube.

Krampus is Santa Claus' whip-toting Christmas sidekick.  According to legend, Krampus joins Santa where he tends to the children on Santa's naughty list.  Krampus whips the children into shape with his whips  or carries them off in his sack.

The early Catholic Church discouraged celebrations based around the wild goat-like creatures and during the Inquisition, efforts were made to stop the celebrations, completely.  However, Krampus figures persisted and by the 17th century Krampus had been incorporated into Christian winter celebrations by pairing him with St. Nicholas.

As fascinating as those last two paragraphs were, I like this video, below, better.

I can't believe that's Anthony Bourdain of the show, Anthony Bourdain- No Reservations and his Layover show.  I like Anthony Bourdain and his No Reservations show (he cooked with Christopher Walken, one of my favorite actors, just recently) but he carries a fairly snarky or cynical tone when he speaks.  In this video, the voice narration conveys a congenial or happy mood while the story is being told.

Go figure.    

Christmas Checklist

It's a good idea to have a handy check list made out around this busy time of year. I learned that a list will help you keep organized and right on schedule.

Here's a few things I have on my to do list:

If you would like to make your own Christmas To Do List or any kind of list, click here. 

Beautiful Christmas Ornaments

Oh, what a treat!  You're all cordially invited to gaze upon this fine collection of whimsical, inspirational, aesthetically pleasing holiday treasures in this most excellent post at Psycho Carnival.  Behold!

Wouldn't this wonderful firefighter/merman hybrid decoration look fantastic on your tree this year?  If you can find his special taint button, he may just give you a good holiday hosing.

What a magnificent addition this bacon strip ornament would be on your tree this holiday season.  Nothing quite conveys the true meaning of Christmas like a lovingly crafted ornament such as this.  And I double dog dare you not to eat this appealing work of art while no one is looking.  Shhh.  I won't tell if you won't.

Look, everyone!  Why... it's a graceful ballerina, enchanting one and all with the fluidity of her magical moves and oddly proportioned bosom.  If I were a betting gentleman, I would say those nipples could poke an eye out.  

If you're searching for something charming to hook onto your special tree this year, look no further.  These  extraordinarily delightful zombie gingerbread men will enthrall family member and friend alike.  You'll be the envy of the entire neighborhood, for certain.  And if you're not sure if that is authentic blood gushing from their heads and legs, cast those doubts away.  That's real blood- from fresh newborn kittens.  Merry Christmas.   

What an endearing character this jolly character is!  He has the kind of winsome smile that guarantees you and your loved ones won't have reason to fear that he will suddenly sprout a torso, arms and legs and crawl up the stairs, like a crazed spider, enter your bedroom and bite you repeatedly under the sheets, shredding your flesh with delightful abandon.  

It's certain you'll fall in love with this beautiful doll of an ornament.  Her name is Lil' Mandy MissyLimbs  Just look at the delicate features of her hands and feet.  Upon closer inspection, the happy faraway look in this little girl's eyes seems to be conveying a positive message of peace and goodwill to all during this glorious holiday season.  Note:  Please be careful NOT to barely touch Lil' Mandy's mid-section or her entrails will likely fall out as if they were blobs of rancid jello.  Seasons Greetings!

I'm not quite sure what to make of this fucking thing.  Happy Holidays!

If you're looking for pleasant, finely crafted ornaments that appeal to your  playful side, why not choose these two  wonderful works of art?  The first ornament is of a snowman showing off his caring, gentle nature by cheerfully carrying his lady friend to a house made of frosted donut balls.  The second ornament reveals a scene where a good Samaritan is happily assisting a being of snow with his slightly bent lower carrot.

What inspiring lessons we can learn from these adorable figures!  Both of these would make wonderful gifts for the elderly and/or religious in your family.

We, here, at Psycho Carnival, heartily and sincerely wish you and your loved ones the very merriest of a happy holiday season this year.  May your cheery red yule logs and festive bearded clams become hard and wet with the joy that these  decorations will bring you this Christmas.  Noel! 

Why Santa May Be a Little Late This Year

Gotta make this a quickie video post, guys.  Been doing the Christmas type visiting and shopping all day/all night and I'm too pooped to pop an elaborate post outta my festive, holly jolly holiday ol' butt.  In any case, watch this video and feel the warmth of Christmas magic.  Let the kids watch for extra fun.  I'm not responsible for any future therapy, however.

Pervert Santa

Get him while he's hot! And trapped! I thought this was humorous.

Titillating Tales of WalMart

My wife has worked at WalMart for over 15 years and has seen the strangest and worst behavior from customers, employees (they call 'em "associates"- in order to make their employees feel more important, I think) and managers. I, myself, worked there for close to 3 years, at one point working with my wife at the same period of time, on 3rd shift. My wife now works on 1st shift.

In the past, on this blog, I've written about my own personal stories (don't ask on which post- I couldn't tell you) about some of the odd happenings at WalMart I experienced and the other night, while having my friend up, we got on the subject of the fucked up people we've encountered or heard about during our "working" life on the job. We discussed some of these hilarious, disturbing stories at length.

The following incidents are my wife's stories that took place while she has been working at WalMart:

Lady On The Prowl

One evening a woman came into WalMart, wearing only a flimsy, nearly transparent, red negligee and high heel shoes. Up and down the aisles, she walked, shaking her hips. She wasn't pushing a cart so the employees knew she likely wasn't shopping for anything WalMart had on their shelves. It was concluded that she was probably attempting to shop for a girl or guy to fuck.

Personally, I think WalMart would be a piss poor choice to go looking for love (lust), unless you want to "get busy" with a hillbilly or whatever. Either way, I think she was either out of her mind or on drugs or drunk. Not long after the cameras caught her struttin' her stuff and everyone else noticed her, that management called the cops and they escorted her out of the store.

Returned Items

A woman once bought a carpet shampooer, used it once and then brought back in the next day to the Customer Service desk. It wasn't broken, according to her. She just didn't want it. You could tell it had been used because the water/waste tank was full of dirty water and cat hair. WalMart took it back, oddly enough.

Another woman bought a Christmas tree a couple days before Christmas. The day after Christmas, she brought it back to Customer Service. It still had tinsel on it that she had put on. WalMart took that back, too. Hundreds of pairs of shoes have been brought back, sometimes four or five months after they had been bought, to the store. Many times they were dirty and some of the tread had been worn off. Of course, WalMart takes them back and puts all returned items in the Claims Department.

The worst stuff returned would be panties and underwear neatly folded and put back into the original packaging. It's apparent the undergarments have been used because the little bags they are in have been opened and- worse yet- plenty of dark brown skid marks have been found on them, later.

But the very worst time something was returned has to be during "The Big Summer Sausage Log Incident". A lady (although I'm not sure she could be described that way) came into WalMart, wishing to return a huge roll of summer sausage. She claimed she had a problem with it because it had "leaked meat juice" in her bed. The associates behind the Customer Service desk were shocked to see that the plastic wrapping on the 16 inch meat log had been peeled halfway down and it was covered with pubic hair. I jokingly asked if somebody suddenly grabbed it from her and started lickin' it like a lollipop. Anyway, management was called to the front of Customer Service about the sticky meat log and, sure enough, they took it back and refunded her money. All true, I'm afraid. I wonder if they put if back on the shelf with new wrapping. :)

Associates, Management and Customers Having Sex

Throughout the years, employees, customers and members of management have been caught having sex back in inventory rooms, men's handicap bathroom stalls, outside in the parking lot, beneath the light posts and even the dairy cooler. When they've been caught, they will sometimes stop fucking and fooling around. Sometimes, they won't.

Lingerie Department Episode

A crowd was found surrounding and staring in awe at a man on the floor in the women's lingerie department. He was fondling and sniffing a pair of new, unused, lacy panties with his one hand while vigorously pumping his one-eyed trouser snake with the other. The associates and management were called to the scene. A member of management called the police and they were on their way. Even as the man was told the cops were on the way, he wouldn't stop wanking his willy while sniffing the panties and so on. Even as the cops were about to put the handcuffs on the guy, he continued to jerk off, smiling the entire time.

No word on whether he was able to spurt his load before the cops got there.

Buzzing Noise

As you could probably guess by the title of this particular episode, it involves a vibrator.

A woman could be heard using a vibrator on herself in one of the women's fitting rooms in the clothing department at WalMart. The employees could hear a buzzing noise emanating from the small room and could see a pair of feet underneath the door. After demanding that the customer open the door and come out, she refused and continued masturbating. Finally, after a half hour, management told one of the employees to open the door. When they did, they saw a woman with her pants and panties down around her ankles. At that point, she finally stopped sliding the vibrator in and out of her pussy. She pulled it out and it was dripping, literally, all over the fitting room floor, according to the employees.

The police were called and she was taken away.

So yes, if you're looking for some of the world's finest freaks, you can find them at Wallyworld, folks. I hope you enjoyed the titillating tales as much as I have over the years. My wife and I continue to be astonished by the outrageous behavior people will engage in, in a public place such as this. Happy shopping, everyone!

Before, During and After Christmas

Mmm. Well... At least the ice age has taken a reprieve for the next couple of days. The temperature has finally reached above freezing temperatures. First time for that in almost a month. Right now we're sitting at a nice, balmy 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The ongoing monsoon we're experiencing, currently, here in the Midwestern U.S., is washing away the eight or so inches of ice and snow we got around the beginning of December. And this is the end of December. Ridiculous.

And yeah, I know people have it worse somewhere else... like in New York, for instance. It just seems like it's taken a goddamn eternity for the white shit to thaw out and for me to be able to walk five feet anywhere I go without risking slippage and neck breakage. With the advent of this current thaw out we're experiencing, I'll be treated to the sight of morons wearing shorts in these chilly, yet not sub-freezing temps. I've already seen a couple idiots wearing nothing but shorts, shoes and imbecilic grins at Wally World. This type of carefree simpleton behavior happens every year when we have even the slightest thaw out during the winter months.

For those reasons and more is why I'm not in my usual delightful mood and why I haven't been doing the blogging thing, lately. I've been too angry, depressed and seething with madness to do much on the computer except check out a few porn sites, humor sites and The Huffington Post website. It's a good thing my wife won't allow me to buy a gun, I suppose. God knows how many bodies would be lying around. Happy Holidays, everyone! And don't forget to go fuck yourselves silly! But not you, my cherished reader, not you. :)

Ah... As you can see I'm purging myself of the nasty negative thoughts in my head by sharing them with you. Isn't that nice of me? It's nice to share, they say.

Surprisingly, there was no carnage or destruction at my wife's Christmas family dinner this year. No mirrors or ceramic keepsakes were broken into a million pieces like last year. And the cat remained safe this year, unlike last year, where it was constantly being chased and whipped by a cat toy by my 3 little nieces. The reason for this is because (A) The cat ran and wisely hid under the bed when it heard my nieces menacing giggling when they entered the place and (B) Half of the time, while here, they were playing around with their little electronic gadgets or watching an insipid Nickelodeon TV show. The sound and sights of children shows drove me nuts time to time but at least everything, including the cat, remained intact.

The only bad moment happened while I was whispering to my sister about the eldest niece's boyfriend. My oldest niece is 17. Her boyfriend is 18 and weighs close to 500 pounds. I was explaining to my sister that the boyfriend has broken all the chairs, a heavy duty recliner and a coffee table with his hefty, morbidly obese ass by sitting in and on them, of course. He destroyed these fairly expensive pieces of furniture at my sister-in-law's and mother-in-law's places and nothing was said to the behemoth, as a result. I don't get that part, especially. I would have told the guy to pay for the damages, lose weight (at least for his own health) or something.

A week ago, I told my sister-in-law that the boyfriend wasn't allowed up to my place for the Christmas dinner because I was afraid he would actually go through my upstairs floor apartment and possibly land on and kill the tenants below. It sounds funny, but in his case, I think it could happen. Beside, I don't have anything he could sit on and take his weight without being crushed to molecules.

This same guy has had his picture in the local paper for entering and winning these all-you-can-gorge-on contests. One contest was for how many Twinkies you can stuff in your big fat face and the other was for pigging out on corn dogs or something like that. In other words, he not only engages in gluttony, he flaunts it, is proud of it and celebrates it by entering in these disgusting competitions.

When my mother-in-law overheard me talking to my sister, Christmas Day, about this dude, she got bent out of shape about it and started defending him. She told me how he had promised to marry my niece after he went through culinary art school and how nice he was and how he made her cry by saying all this wonderful stuff about her granddaughter and so on. With the rate he's going, I don't think he's going to live long enough to accomplish any of his goals.

I have asked my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law if anyone has ever warned him that being morbidly obese like that was a danger to his health. Both said, "No." They said that as far as they knew, not even the boy's parents have tried to talk to him about it or curb his weight with correctly portioned meals.

I said, "That makes me sick to hear that and I don't really have anything to do with him."

In fact, the boy's parents actually encourage their kid to go to my sister-in-law's place to eat all of her food when it's dinner time. And eat, he does. Everything. In. Sight. And nothing is ever said to him about that, either. Disgusting and amazing. I would have already knocked his ass out with a baseball bat, or at the very least, tell him to go graze in the back yard for nourishment. My tolerance for repetitious ignorant behavior is little to none. It's a good thing I don't have children.

Strangely enough, I've been told this enormous 18 year old kid's health is okay. For now, I'm guessing . Of course, it will be just a matter of time before he will eventually have problems with any or all of the following: Diabetes. Coronary Heart Disease. High Blood Pressure. Stroke.

To name just a few.

While I'm on the subject of diabetes and other health problems associated with that disease, another curious type of behavior has come to my attention. I know of two family members and a friend who have severe diabetes and a few of the other health conditions I mentioned and none of them seem to give a shit about it. They eat and drink whatever they want, no matter how much sugar and fat it contains. INSANITY.

Look everyone, FREE DIABETES! Come and get it!

If people want to kill themselves by ingesting whatever they want while having diabetes, they're going about it in the slowest, most torturous way possible- aside from disemboweling yourself with a small fork.

The truth is: Diabetes is synonymous with a gradual, often painful degradation of the body's parts and internal organs and ultimately- death will fuck you in the ass, as a result- with no lubricant. When you have diabetes, like I happen to have, just giving a "fuck it" attitude towards it and consuming what you want, guarantees all manner of horrible things to come your way. Like being hooked up to a kidney dialysis machine, for instance (no more caffeine for you, fucker). Or how about the lack of good blood circulation which will cause you to lose your feet and your sight. Does that sound like a good time? And healing from a wound or overcoming sickness, no matter how minor? Forget about it, baby!

Here's a funny story... As I was plunging an insulin needle into my belly a couple days ago, a friend knocked on the door. Since I knew who it was, I told him to come in. He came inside the apartment and was jabbering away about letting himself in until he noticed me slowly inserting a needle into my belly.

As I was cringing and curling my toes in discomfort, he asks, "Does that hurt?"

I didn't reply at first because (A) That's a stupid question and (B) I'm kind of busy at the moment and (C) If I don't focus on where I'm puncturing, I could bend the needle in my belly and tear open my flesh. I've done that last one a couple times, due to my wife causing me stress with inane jabber or the time when I was on the cruise ship and it lurched to the right while the needle slit my belly open. Good times!

Anyhow, my wife comes home from work and gives my friend a Christmas gift that I'm thinking he will likely take a pass on because he suffers from diabetes and has to take a couple pills for, as a result (no insulin yet, but he's working on it, I think). The gift he opens is a nearly two pound bag of gourmet chocolate caramel covered popcorn that has about a trillion (or so) grams of sugar in every piece. My wife thought he would like it because he likes sweets. I was just going to him a gift certificate at Lowe's or something but she thought of this, instead. Eh, okay.

Anyway, he opens the bag and instantly starts to gobble down the the contents of the bag with reckless abandon, diabetes be damned. I laughed, as i always do when I see someone doing something bizarre and I asked, "What about your diabetes?"

He said, almost incoherently, while munching and crunching, "My last blood sugar test result at the doctor's office turned out okay."

For now, I thought. He's very lucky in the way that he eats and doesn't exercise that his blood sugar counts haven't skyrocketed. I, on the other hand, watch what I eat and exercise and I'm forced to take insulin and pills for my diabetes. Go figure. Am I somewhat jealous? You bet. I'm not perfect by any means.

The last couple of weeks, I've been severely depressed because of mom not being here for the fifth Christmas in a row. She died in August of 2005 and I was closer to her than any other member of the family. The inner family fracturing, squabbling and accusing my father of killing my mother by my grandmother just adds heaping helpings of stress to my usual decaying mental health at this time of year. To counteract this, I would go out and take pictures of Christmas scenery in the town surrounding me. Only when I'm not around the usual negative people (family and friends) and outside, do I receive anything remotely describing peace. Sad, isn't it?

You can see these holiday pictures at my other website, Pics For Kicks. Going out and taking these pics is very therapeutic. And taking the holiday shots reminds me of the times, every Christmas, when my sister, dad, mom and I would go out, drive around at night and look at all the decorated holiday scenery in all of the neighboring towns.

To top off the near ending of the holidays, my dad slipped, fell and cracked his head wide open on the corner of a wall the day after Christmas. He's okay now but it scared the shit out of my sister and I. He fell at the assisted living place he's living in, due to taking his diabetes medicine but not eating any food with his medication. That will drop the ol' blood sugar to the basement. When I came to the emergency room, he was lying in the hospital bed, talking calmly to me, like nothing happened.

He looked fine but then...

As I sat down in a chair, he asked how he looked to me. All I could see at the moment was a tiny paper cut on his forehead. I said, " You look alright to me. Just a small cut above your nose."

I wondered silently why he had been rushed to the hospital.

But then...

I saw blood spreading on the pillow behind his head. I got up, walked over behind his bed and saw the four inch gaping gash in his scalp on the back of his head and almost fainted. Just then a nurse walked in and put a fresh bandage on his head. Five or so minutes pass and a doctor walks into the room, takes a stapler and staples the gash together with 8 staples.

Ca-Chunk... Ca- Chunk... and so on. He ended up staying overnight because his blood sugar was so low it wasn't even registering on the meter.

I remember the sound of staples going into flesh quite well since I had the same thing done to me when I was 21. Right after my double hernia surgery. I sat in a slightly leaned back chair as Dr. Frable Ca-Chunked Ca-Chunked twenty one staples between my belly and just above my crotch. He gave no warning he was about to do this. All he said beforehand was that he was going to check how the two wide incisions appeared. And then the surprise! Whoopee!

Good times.

Trying to fuck without literally busting a gut was quite the trick back then but I somehow did it. Back then I didn't have diabetes but I did have raging, horny hormones that made me do stupid things like trying to fuck not long after surgery.

Anyway, dad is back at the assisted living place. They're keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't go out and drive while healing. He's under strict doctor's orders. I'm sure today or any of the upcoming days he will be screaming and throwing the usual verbal insults at my sister and I, thinking we had something to do with this. Business, as usual.

Yep. Happy fuckin' holidays, everyone. I'm sure the new year will be just as delightful (sarcasm intended) as 2010, minus the honestly pleasurable reprieve of the week long Caribbean cruise we went on this past summer and the times I wasn't around family. During those times, I had nothing but peace.

Below, you'll find a humorous, truthful Christmas message from Bill Maher. After watching it, remember that Oprah Winfrey will or already has debuted her private network, OWN. Which, of course, stands for the Oprah Winfrey Network.

A Christmas Message from Bill Maher - watch more funny videos

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 2)

Click here for Part 1 of this enchanting story. Now, where was I? Oh yes, here we go...

It wasn't long before both road weary travelers slipped beneath the sheets and fell fast asleep in each of their own beds at the Sheraton hotel. Toadie was lying on his stomach, snoring. During the first few moments of Toadie's slumber, Toadie's anus began it's symphony of sweet, melodious flatulence. This was the result of consuming massive amounts of chili earlier in the afternoon. Who could have guessed that a displeasing incident would occur after just a few hours of rest? Unfortunately, the mentally challenged man's rectum reached a gaseous frenetic crescendo, producing a geyser of diarrhea that spurted through the top bed covers over his lower torso and splattered down atop Toadie's hairy backside.

Instead of waking him, Toadie was influenced in his dreams by the spattering shit juice. Still sound asleep, Toadie cried out, "Toadie loves standing beneath the spray of the waterfall!"

Then Toadie giggled, childlike and endearingly.

Valerie and Toadie awoke the following morning, feeling refreshed but not feeling quite so clean. Valerie sat up in her bed, yawned and felt sticky. After opening her eyes, she noticed small brown blotches on her arms and in her hair. She screamed, instantly, when she realized the blotches was feces. Toadie woke up to Valerie's shriek and quickly sat on the edge of his bed. When he saw Valerie covered with spots of anal gravy, he began to laugh, heartily. Laughing, in turn, gave Toadie a rising woodie.

Valerie's scream increased in volume when she saw Toadie. The somewhat dim-witted 33 year old was completely covered in butt broth. He appeared to be a hideous, hairy, chocolate colored monster. And to make matters worse, he was beating off. When Valerie could no longer scream, she violently retched until the contents of her stomach had emptied onto the floor. Toadie, of course, spooged into the lake of vomit.

After they got cleaned up, they quickly got dressed and got back into the car before the hotel's staff could get wind, so to speak, of what had transpired during their stay. As Val and her jovial co traveler jumped in the car and made a hasty getaway, Toadie rejoiced, "Toadie thinks this is a Shit and Run."

Despite what Val had endured, she felt compelled to cackle at Toadie's pun. Maybe it was stress, she wondered.

Traveling westward, Val and Toadie stopped in the small town of Calvin, Oklahoma. Valerie turned down the radio that had been playing incessant Christmas music for the last couple states. Toadie's eyes had glazed over during half of the westerly travel and he was singing, with much exuberance, to every festive tune played. This was tearing at Valerie's patience.

She had an idea.

Valerie pulled into the driveway of an old abandoned, dilapidated farmhouse and said to Toadie, "Hey Toadie, you know what's more fun than singing to Christmas music?"

Toadie replied, "Toadie is thinking of snow and herpes."

Valerie said, "No, Toadie, this is more fun." With that said, she withdrew a bag of marijuana from her purse.

"Wow," said Toadie. Then he said, "Toadie likes oregano."

Valerie smiled and then countered, "This is the blessed herb, my friend."

Soon, after they shared a few joints, Toadie seemed to calm down and relax, which was what Valerie was shooting for. She was even able to turn to a rock station on the radio without any debate or quarrel with Toadie. Before, he had thrown a fit if she had tried doing that.

Toadie took a toke and handed the rolled ganja back to Valerie. He felt different then and began to see things quite differently. Valerie sucked on the joint, then handed it back, coughing a little. A smile soon spread across her face.

Stoned and content, Toadie turned to Valerie and said, "This shit's good."

Valerie, surprised that Toadie didn't refer to himself in the third person when he just spoke, asked, "Are you okay?"

Toadie replied, "Are any of us really okay? The term 'okay' is subjective, I believe."

Valerie thought she had smoked too much. Toadie was beginning to sound intelligent and even a bit profound to her ears and mind.

Then Toadie put his arm around her and said, "And now I have an idea... if you're game for it, Val."

Valerie said, "Uh-oh... I created a monster." Then she looked down and saw that the man's rigid, impressively sized prick was peeping out at the top of his sweatpants. Toadie smiled at Valerie. Her face showed a look of lust and admiration of his peeping prick's length and girth.

Valerie lightly brushed her fingers along the fat head of Toadie's cock and coyly asked, "Does this idea of yours have something to do with this Yule log you're sporting?" The college student licked her lips.

Toadie chuckled and then answered his companion with a question, "Are you ready for a little Christmastime type adventure?"

Valerie nodded, not knowing what to expect, but she felt game for it- especially if it had something to do with wrapping her lips around Toadie's massive candy cane.

Earlier, on their way through the small town of Calvin, Toadie had noticed several things. One, there a guy in a snowman suit holding up a large sign in the small business area of Calvin. And two, the sign had announced that there would be a town Christmas festival, featuring a church choir of Christmas carolers that would be singing in front of the Town Hall later on that night.

Under Toadie's guidance, Toadie had Val drive them back to the business area of town and wait until the guy in the snowman suit took his lunch break. They didn't have to wait long. When the guy took off for an hour for lunch, he left his snowman suit in the hardware store he had been standing in front of most of the morning.

Toadie slipped inside the store, unnoticed and hurriedly grabbed the suit. His plan was well underway.

Later that evening, at the Town Hall, the mayor of Calvin went up on the stage and invited the St. Mary's Christmas Choir to come up and sing their extensive mix of religious and holiday numbers for the town audience.

As the choir sang "Silent Night", Toadie and Valerie were smoking a blunt in an alley nearby. They felt they needed a little inspiration for the next part of his plan. A couple minutes passed and they were thoroughly fried out of their minds and giggling.

Toadie got out of the car in the dark alley and put on the snowman suit. Valerie helped him put it on. Once that was accomplished, they ran off toward the town's tall, garishly decorated Christmas tree, which happened to stand close to the Town Hall stage. Once there, Valerie reached into Toadie's snowman suit where a hole had been strategically cut out, allowing for Toadie's jolly joystick to escape and stand up, proud and fully engorged. Valerie was increasingly getting wetter as she grappled Toadie's meaty member, stroking it and finally pulling it out of it's "escape hatch".

Valerie eyed Toadie's skin flute with unconstrained desire, turned around and hurriedly pulled down her pants, exposing her bare wet n' ready pussy and puckered asshole. Toadie squirt a little lube from a tube onto Valerie's tender piss flaps after she went down on the ground on her hands and knees. And before you could say "Santa Claus is comin' to town", Toadie repeatedly inserted his beefy bologna into Valerie's delicate dripping slit, causing Valerie to gasp, shriek and moan just as the choir sang the verse, "O come, all Ye Faithful."

The townsfolk and church choir, upon hearing Val's cries of extreme surprise and intense ecstasy, quickly ran over to see where the commotion was coming from. They gazed in awe as they witnessed a snowman savagely fucking Valerie in the cunt.

"My goodness!" cried out the priest. Secretly, however, the holy man's prick was quite hard from the sight.

The mayor, speechless at first, was finally able to ask, "What do you think you're doing with this woman?"

The snowman turned his head and said to the mayor, "I'm fucking her, you dumb ass."

Unrelenting, the snowman continued to plow the depths of Valerie's coochie while the crowd gathered and watched. Valerie's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned so loud, you could swear the sound was coming from an ambulance siren. The citizens of Calvin had never before seen such a spectacle take place in their normally uneventful municipality. Some citizens fainted. Others were outraged. More than a few were aroused, rubbing their crotches, instilled with primal cravings.

Finally, the snowman spurted jets of baby batter into Valerie's gaping twat. After moments of relieving his swollen "snowballsack", Toadie got up, leaving Valerie on her hands and knees, satisfied and dripping with jizz globs and pussy juice. Soon, several police cars were pulling up alongside the curb of Town Hall, after receiving word of a strange public disturbance.

Before the local police were able to get out of their patrol cars, Valerie pulled up her pants and quickly ran after her snowman lover to the nearby back alley where they had parked the car.

Luckily, they were able to escape the pursuing cops and were able to make it to another town without being caught. Once they were sure they were no longer being followed, Val and Toadie checked into a hotel and continued celebrating the holidays in their own special way.

Toadie and Valerie had many other wonderful adventures during their Christmas trip around the country and when they finally made their way back to Rufus' and Maggie's mansion in Chicago, they expressed that they wanted to continue seeing each other. Rufus and Maggie were thrilled that Toadie had finally found someone in his life that he could truly love and share great times with.

And now, gentle readers, our delightful Christmas story has come to an end. I hope you will all have a holly jolly, very Merry Christmas. Peace be with all you!

For previous Toadie stories, click on any of these links:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Toadie in "First Love"

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 1)

Despite Rufus and Maggie's objection to Toadie leaving their mansion in Chicago, Toadie ventured out on a trip across the country during the Christmas season to take in the sights of all the decorated houses and winter festivals across America.

Rufus and Maggie, worried for their semi-retarded friend's safety, were at least able to convince Toadie that he should be escorted during his month long adventure. Maggie persuaded her younger cousin, Valerie, to escort and drive the 33 year old mentally impaired man wherever he wanted to go. At first, Valerie balked at the suggestion due to college priorities. Of course, it didn't take much persuasion from Rufus and Maggie since they had only recently become millionaires due to a huge inheritance and were able to offer Val a substantial amount of money for the task.

Fifty thousand dollars for playing a taxi driver for an imbecile wouldn't be a bad deal, she thought. Besides, the college freshman felt she badly needed a break from school. Val was feeling burned out.

A week into the trip, Valerie began to understand Toadie and realize, with in-depth discussions with him, that he wasn't as mindless as some assumed him to be. She could tell that he was just one of those type of people that you had to really talk to, on a one-to-one basis, for a certain amount of time, in order to get what he was honestly all about.

One night, on the way to Birmingham, Alabama, Valeria turned to Toadie and asked, "Well, are you ready to check in at a hotel?"

Toadie, staring straight ahead at the festively decorated lampposts along the street, replied, "Toadie farted." This was followed by a string of saliva dripping from his bottom lip.

Valerie countered, "Yes, Toadie, I know. I could smell it ten minutes ago and I still can."

Toadie wiped the spittle from his mouth and then said, "The smell makes Toadie hungry for the big bowl of chili Toadie ate this afternoon."

Valerie laughed and then said, "Well, it makes me want to puke my chili up on this dashboard."

Both travelers laughed together then, in effect, causing Toadie's penis to become erect, which happened quite often when he laughed. This odd reaction to laughter would sometimes make for awkward scenes at a Chicago grocery store that Maggie would sometimes take Toadie to, in the past.

Whenever Toadie would see someone or hear something he thought humorous, he would chuckle heartily and eventually sport a 14 inch raging boner which would often times peek out from the top of his sweatpants. Maggie would see his meaty manhood sticking out and tell him to think of something sad to deflate the size of his erection.

Normally, when these events occurred, at least one store patron would invariably see his lengthy piss weasel, stop dead in their tracks and point at Toadie's prick. Some people laughed. Some shrugged. One patron actually screamed and had a massive stroke. Her name was Mabel Strausfurg and she had just celebrated her 70th birthday the day before. When the elderly woman collapsed to the floor, Toadie was shocked and began to sob, uncontrollably.

Customers looked down at the woman breathing her last few breaths on the floor, but instead of running to get help or call for an ambulance, they stood around the old woman and twittered and private messaged their friends and relatives.

Several customers took pictures with their camera phones and other electronic gadgets.

One twenty-ish something year old girl texted this message:

Old biddy just up on dropped on the floor. lol. Most excitement I've had all day.

The bored reactions of the customers vaguely reminded Maggie of the true incident in which Bill Nye, "The Science Guy", collapsed onto the floor before reaching the podium at a college University in California. Everyone in the audience, made up of mostly college students, texted and tweeted what had just happened instead of attempting, in any degree, to help Nye.

Maggie immediately took out her cell phone and called the 911 emergency number before rushing off to alert store management. Quickly, before leaving, she turned to Toadie and said, "Put that thing away before you kill anyone else."

This made Toadie even sadder, feeling immeasurable guilt and as was often the case when he was feeling blue, Toadie would comfort himself by masturbating. This time proved to be yet another such occasion. While being so overwhelmed by emotion that he let out a long sorrowful wail, Toadie abruptly pulled down his sweatpants and urgently wanked his willy .

Toadie exclaimed, suddenly, "Toadie sad!"

With his fat, clenched fist, Toadie began pumping up on down on his love muscle until jets of plentiful semen gushed out, hitting the seemingly bored customers' faces while they tweeted. Not fazed by this in the least, a few crowd members decided to sit down on top of the dying woman and continued to text and twitter. Some of them, in fact, tweeted that they thought there could be a leak in the store ceiling.

This is the actual tweet that one of them typed out:

I think there's something leaking from the ceiling here. Something just hit the top of my head or went in my face. Whatever.

Valerie and Toadie pulled into a snow filled hotel parking lot. The area was enduring subfreezing temperatures for the last several weeks, not allowing for the snow to melt anywhere in the city. Because of this, many of the citizenry in Birmingham were angry and frustrated and took it out on each other and city property in bizarre and vicious ways. One such citizen committed the outrageous act of burning down the city's 35 foot tall Christmas tree for it's measly amount of copper. At least, that was his excuse for burning down the tree.

It seemed, during these times, people were declaring war on Christmas trees. For instance, in Germany, the police arrested a man for making a huge six foot marijuana plant his very own Christmas tree. Justification for his arrest, some had trouble figuring out. The old man wasn't hurting anyone, after all. He was just trying to have a merry Christmas the best way he knew how.

Yet another member of the Birmingham, Alabama community jumped from a bridge to his death. Curiously enough, he was a shopping mall Santa in the area. On his way to the rough waters below, he could be heard to shout, "HO HO HO!" Still alive, though taking in large quantities of river water, the man in the Santa suit thrashed about in the river current and pleaded for help, damning himself for his stupidity.

No help was given to the depressed drowning man, of course. The onlookers, instead, messaged to others on their electronic devices that they had just heard something make a splash in the water. Then they continued doing nothing.

After Valerie and Toadie checked into the hotel room, Valerie smiled at Toadie and began to undress. It wasn't long before both road weary travelers slipped beneath the sheets and....

THE NEXT POST (PART 2 of Toadie in "The Christmas Trip") WILL CONTINUE THIS STORY. MEANWHILE, YOU MAY ENJOY THESE PRECEDING ADVENTURES OF TOADIE BY CLICKING THE FOLLOWING LINKS:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Toadie in "First Love"

TILL NEXT TIME, "HO HO HO AND MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!"

Great Affordable Christmas Gifts

I don't know if you've noticed or not but we're currently living and struggling in a recession. Well, at least 98% of us are. The other 2%, the Über-wealthy (those being careful not to be in direct contact with we, the peasantry) among us believe we are no longer in a recession... but they can go fuck their self-delusional selves, of course. Is this class envy, some of you may suspect? Nope. Just simple, clear minded observation of today's reality. Join me for a tiny taste of reasoning, won't you?

Anyway, I digress...

I have put just a whole lot of thought and consideration of the current holiday and over commercialized gift giving season and have come up with some delightful gifts that are simple to make or find for both friends or family. You can bet your sweet bippy that they'll enjoy these special presents for many years to come. And best of all, none of these items will ever go out of style.

Without further ado:

BAG

This simple item can be used to put your stuff in and is especially affordable during these hard times. Think of all the fun you can have with BAG and be sure to note the look of wonder and glee in your child's eyes once they open their gift box and see BAG for themselves. One of the most impressive qualities this item has is it's ability to be taken almost anywhere... except at the airport, where your courteous airport security personnel will happily treat you like a terrorist and give you a deep cavity search just for attempting to carry your average supermarket BAG on a plane. BAG can also be handy as a container for used facial or toilet tissue.

Other uses with BAG include but are not exclusive to: placing over an insidiously ugly citizen's face, placing over one's shoes so the individual can not only keep their footwear clean and dry but they can slip, fall and break their fucking neck and last, but certainly not least, BAG can handily function as a way for suffocating an insufferable, irritating douche bag any time of the year.

TURD

This particular item can be home made by eating enough food and being able to push it out of one's butt hole. It's the kind of gift that shows to loved ones, friends and family that you truly care because it is so personal. What's more, TURD may be used in conjunction with BAG so instead of the recipient getting only one gift under the Christmas tree this holiday season, they may receive two at one time. What a delightful bonus! If you should not want to go through the effort of producing TURD yourself, due to either constipation or pure laziness (as in "I don't give a shit"), feel free to go to your neighborhood park or back yard to find a fresh or not-so-fresh cat, dog, deer, fox or Sasquatch TURD.

What co worker, friend or family member wouldn't be instilled with feelings of endearment and joy this holiday season by finding this special stocking stuffer? Special considerate additions to TURD could be: incompletely digested corn, blood, a bit of hemorrhoid or a dollop of whipped cream on top. Go ahead! Make TURD special this Christmas!

ARTWORK

This gift has a multitude of possibilities and as a bonus, it serves as a way to express yourself, creatively, whether it's handmade and or something you bought cheaply from a very starving artist or took from an orphan child while it cried. ARTWORK can be something drawn on a piece of paper. Such as: A smiley-faced stick figure. Or... A peace sign. Or... A child's handmade drawing of his or her family soaked with well spent tears after you robbed them of it.

ARTWORK need not be categorized as something only painted, drawn or tattooed above one's buttocks. Indeed, ARTWORK can be something made or used out of any one of the following: clay, Popsicle sticks, paper mache, aluminum foil, wood (careful with that knife), hardened mucous "boogers" and of course, the ol' tried and true, TURD. You may want to use gloves with that last one. With 'boogers" there's no real need because you can simply lick your fingers after you're done. No mess, no fuss.

GLASS JAR

Some may argue that this invaluable present is a bit too much like BAG and that I may be repeating myself in some fashion but I disagree. GLASS JAR is a much sturdier gift and is much more efficient for holding liquids and jelly-like substances. No real chance for leakage, especially if you have the lid screwed on nice and tight. Well, now that I've said those two words, I have a substantial boner. Who would have thought? GLASS JAR can be also used for quickly flinging into a continuously disagreeable individual's face. You know, that special someone who delights in disagreeing with you on every single goddamn thing that you say just for the fucking sake of disagreeing with you.

But I digress...

Additionally, GLASS JAR can be used for containing homemade jellies and jams, moonshine, pee, a fart or two (however many you can fit in) or an imaginary sum of cash. For that last suggestion, I suggest you print the cash value of the imaginary amount of cash that is supposedly in GLASS JAR and tape it firmly on the side of GLASS JAR. Otherwise, this unique gift just won't have as much meaning and the recipient will not be able to appreciate the real value of his or her gift and will therefore be somewhat displeased.

Well, that's all I can or care to think of at the moment. I hope I've enhanced your holiday and gift giving experiences with these festive ideas. If you wish, you may thank me for these helpful suggestions by leaving a thoughtful comment in my comment box. In conclusion, I wish all of my readers (all three of them) a very merry, joy-filled, awkward family gathering Christmas this year.

Seasons Greetings, everyone!