Happy Thoughts and Dirty Pictures

Goddammit, you obnoxious fuck, let me finish the fucking thought in my head before you pound it with your mighty, pulsing dickhammer. If I ever snap and bludgeon you to death in your sleep in a scene worthy of CSI:NY season one, that will be why.

In infinitely merrier, less homicidal news, thanks to Amazon, we finished our Christmas shopping in forty minutes yesterday. No lines, no shoving, no surly, gum-snapping cashiers. Just point, click, done. Whether they'll arrive and be shipped to their final destination in time for Christmas is another matter.

And hey, another new experience: filling out customs declarations forms. Whee! Just more proof of how much my life has changed in a single year and in the wake of a single, amazing leap of faith.

And now, a less noble sentiment:



Well. Yes, please.