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Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Tag Archives: Santa

It’s big,

it’s loud,

it’s the GREAT WOLF LODGE!!!

There are kids running around everywhere. Kids that are followed by exhausted adults dragging ass behind them. Or spaced-out exhausted parents sitting around while their kids run from floor to floor doing their magic quest scavenger hunts. That’s what’s happening in the hallways outside the gigantic indoor water park.

Inside the water park it’s hot, humid, and heavily chlorinated. The chlorine is so strong that it burns your eyeballs and nostrils. Yeah, you end up blind and can’t breathe, but at least you don’t have to worry about playing in water that’s crawling with microorganisms that will give you the cruddy crud. The water slides are pretty awesome. I got to play last night, but I didn’t get to splash in toxic water today because I spent all day today finishing up my christmas presents. I will have a chance to play tomorrow.

That’s all for now. I have to drink some wine. I worked up a thirst with all of that vigorous knitting I did today.

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When we were active churchy mormons, I’d get out of Tooth Fairy duties on Sunday. It was the sabbath, after all. That worked for three kids. The fourth kid lost a tooth this past Sunday. I decided that I wasn’t going to invoke the sabbath in between sips of wine, so with full intentions of fulfilling my toothly fairy duties, I sent Vivian to bed. Mimi took great care to remind me. She made sure to remind Homie too.

Guess who didn’t show up? Guess who cried?  Guess who perpetuated the lie?

(I hate myself a little bit for lying to my kid about the tooth fairy and santa and all of that shit.)

So, I made an excuse for the tooth fairy. I told Viv that she must have had a lot of children to take care of. To which she replied that maybe the tooth fairy is a ‘he’. Immediately, this image flashed in my mind:

Except imagine him in tights.

Consoled, my little feminist decided to give it another try. Guess who forgot? Guess who tried to pull the ‘ol “Look what fell behind the bed” trick? Luckily, I stopped him from doing damage control which would have caused more damage.

After the kids all went to school, Homie came up with this:

Dear Vivian,

I understand that you have been upset that you haven’t received a visit from me after losing a tooth. I do apologize for it taking so long to get to you. You see, there is only so much magic in the world at any one time. Normally there is plenty for me to get to things quickly, but around Christmastime, the North Pole draws heavily on the magic. There has been a bit of a shortage this week before Christmas and it has taken me a little longer than I would have liked to come retrieve your tooth. I even have had to resort to working some during the day! Anyway, I finally made it and I hope you are not too disappointed. Have a Merry Christmas and remember to take good care of those adult teeth that take the place of those you are losing.

Love,

Tooth Fairy

If it doesn’t work, I’m going to come clean.

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With the holiday season upon us, I think it’s appropriate to talk about the reason for the season.

Presents

 Come on, you didn’t think I was going to say Jesus, did you? You know that he’s not the reason. Jesus is an afterthought.

Ok, I have the lights up, and the tree decorated. The presents are already bought because of those great black Friday deals. I narrowly escaped the pepper spray on my way to getting that Xbox. I feel sorry for the poor schmuck who got it squarely in the face. I just have a few more little things to order online then I’m done. Unfortunately, I’m hosting dinner this year for the whole family and I’m stressed out. I can’t wait for the holidays to be over. Oh yeah. And Jesus. Damn you, Jesus. It’s all your fault

 

(I was on a roll and had a whole paragraph about how I used to think Atheists should get over how they would overreact when people would say god like on The Pledge and stuff, but now that I don’t believe in god, my perspective has changed. However, I had to go do some shit and I lost my steam. Curse you, ADD.)

And since I don’t already have 8,000,000 things to knit already, I figure what’s one more? I’ll make one of these to give away so you can put it on you chrisfsmas tree.

I don’t have any rhyme or reason about who will get it. I know! The most creative ‘prayer’ will get it. It’s totally subjective, and just because you might have a better prayer than someone else, you might not get it anyway. Or I might put your names in a hat and pick a name (who actually uses a hat to do this?).

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Religion as a Moral Center – http://skeptoid.com/episodes/4001

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I don’t want your Merry Christmas card. That predictable picture with your plastic smile is of no interest to me. Keep the yearly update of your family’s accomplishments to yourself. I won’t be sending you one.

Why am I going to spend $100+ on postage and spaghetti monster-knows-how much on cards and pictures? I’d rather save that money to get that nice pair of leather boots I’ve been eying.

I’m not an environmentalist by any stretch of the imagination, but DAMN do we really need to kill that many trees in the name of good cheer?

And let’s keep in mind how long it takes to track down the 50+ addresses, address the cards, sign your name to the card, write a meaningless note in the card, then lick the nasty-ass tasting envelopes, and mail them. I don’t know about you mofos, but I don’t have time like that. I got SHIT to do.

And when the card arrives at its destination- what? It gets opened up, and most likely tossed into a pile. If it’s from a really important person, it’ll be displayed for a minute before it gets unceremoniously ripped down and thrown away.

This is the truth. You know it is. You feel annoyed at the obligation of having to send a card to every fucking person you know because if you leave someone out of the Christmas card loop, you’ll be on some obscure acquaintance’s naughty list. Santa forbid you leave anyone out even IF you haven’t spoken to them in 5 years.

So, don’t send me a card. Comment on my blog. Send me an email. Or a text message. Or better yet – fuckin’ call me. Because that means more to me than your stupid predictable picture with the plastic smiles.

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