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The UPS man turned up while I was naked. Why do they always turn up when I'm naked? This time, Roomie was naked, too, so he had to throw on some shorts, drape a towel over my wet torso, and scurry to the door to accept a package. Momentary inconvenience notwithstanding, the package is here, and now there is a present under my tiny, tabletop Christmas tree.
Roomie was happy to discover his stocking stuffer at the Walmart today. He's had his eye on the HBO series Rome for a while, and he found S1 for fifteen dollars. They also had The Wire, Oz, True Blood, John Adams, and Deadwood, so if you've ever been interested in those shows but too broke to afford them, now is your chance.
We're planning to settle in for the next few days, so we've got food put by. Of course, my mother called earlier this evening, wanting to natter on about holiday plans, the toilet, and what I want for Christmas.
A. We have no plans, and certainly not with you or any other member of my bothersome, damaged family.
B. The toilet is the same as it was when last you heard of it, and even if it weren't, what are you going to do about it from a thousand miles away? If the damn thing falls through the floor, you'll know because I'll send your negligent ass my hospital bills.
C. What I want is for you to fall down an open manhole, never to be heard from again. Since you have the luck of the damned, however, I'm sure to be disappointed. I don't know why you bother asking me what I want; you've never, ever listened. The year I asked for a vacuum cleaner, you gave me a smoke detector when I had two hardwired into my apartment. Then you bitched because my floor was dirty. The next year, it was a fire extinguisher. The year after that, you tried to fob off my grandmother's first-generation, dying Kindle on me. Just give me the dollar-store socks or the indifferent Christmas card with sentiments neither of us believes and stop your wheezing gob with a cigarette.
Roomie was happy to discover his stocking stuffer at the Walmart today. He's had his eye on the HBO series Rome for a while, and he found S1 for fifteen dollars. They also had The Wire, Oz, True Blood, John Adams, and Deadwood, so if you've ever been interested in those shows but too broke to afford them, now is your chance.
We're planning to settle in for the next few days, so we've got food put by. Of course, my mother called earlier this evening, wanting to natter on about holiday plans, the toilet, and what I want for Christmas.
A. We have no plans, and certainly not with you or any other member of my bothersome, damaged family.
B. The toilet is the same as it was when last you heard of it, and even if it weren't, what are you going to do about it from a thousand miles away? If the damn thing falls through the floor, you'll know because I'll send your negligent ass my hospital bills.
C. What I want is for you to fall down an open manhole, never to be heard from again. Since you have the luck of the damned, however, I'm sure to be disappointed. I don't know why you bother asking me what I want; you've never, ever listened. The year I asked for a vacuum cleaner, you gave me a smoke detector when I had two hardwired into my apartment. Then you bitched because my floor was dirty. The next year, it was a fire extinguisher. The year after that, you tried to fob off my grandmother's first-generation, dying Kindle on me. Just give me the dollar-store socks or the indifferent Christmas card with sentiments neither of us believes and stop your wheezing gob with a cigarette.
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