My holiday season wasn't that great. (Thanks for asking). I spent it looking at a bottle of some very questionable liquid while singing along to the lyrics of songs only heard in serious chic flicks. *Cue the water works* (All by myselffffffff....don't wanna be all by myselffffff....anymore) *sniffs*. Suffice to say it was an odd time of the year for me. Don't be afraid though, I'm seeing a very qualified shrink who is also helping me with this really weird habit I've developed lately. I would tell you but then you would never look at me the same again. lets just say it involves squirrels and a ridiculous need for speed. And two French journalists. And tonnes of oil. I fear i have said too much.
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| Actual reenactment of me sitting in the office working! |
Onwards though. I'm not a fan of the holidays. The genesis of this loathing began twelve years ago. I was thirty five, muscular and had just graduated from Arm Wrestling School. It was a time of happiness and big forearms.*dissolving into fuzzy flashback* Actually it's pretty simple. I grew up watching random kids shows that taught me that Santa only goes to visit good white kids because we don't have chimneys. From then on I vowed to track him down and kill him and his little elves. Anyway while I find Christmas totally pointless, the holiday that takes the cake has to be New Year.
For real. What's up with that?
Yay! It's the first of January! Wow this feels like de javu. I wonder when this happened again. Last freaking year. Same thing happened. This is exactly how my countdown went. It's an actual reenactment. So step back in case you are scared of blood.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six (Really hope the Mayans were right)
five, four, three, two, one. Then I closed by eyes tight and started waiting for that tsunami from the movie 2012. Nothing. Then I noticed my watch was ten minutes fast. So while I was safely on the other side, I still had to wait for the stragglers to catch up. Trust Kenyans to be late for a year. The clock strikes midnight (again) and everyone starts going crazy. Kissing here. Hugging there. Groping the wrong butt. (Dude I saw you touch me) And then I'm like congratulations. It's January. You're all screwed!
