'Tis the Season

Tis the season to be jolly, as they say. Though I don’t see what’s so jolly about singing chipmunks and fruit cake. Those two can go away to the manger and stay there. Just leave the eggnog and elves in place. They’re the highlight. Everyone loves a midget in costume and some nog. Some spiked nog. Some heavily spiked nog. That and buying gifts. I love to buy gifts. Gifts for myself mostly. Gifts for others don’t excite me. Especially since they never like what I get them anyway. Which is rude because that gold fish was hard to win and so what if he was upside down. He was just resting his eyes. That’s why this year I’m doing all my Christmas shopping at the grocery store. You can’t go wrong there. Whatever it is you pick up, chances are someone needs it. Toilet paper? Need it. Canned beets? Need it. Spray Cheese? Need it. They even have free wrapping paper at grocery stores—paper AND plastic. And while you’re at it, you can pick up your egg nog. Just don’t pick up a midget, that seems to anger them.

Lather Rinse Repeat

Showering is important. If you don’t shower regularly, people don’t like you. Luckily, I shower often. At least once a week. Which doesn’t explain why people don’t like me, but I know it’s not because I don’t shower. I like a good hot shower. Except if I’m tired and yawning a lot. Because then I choke from all the water that gets into my mouth. The only water I like in my mouth is the vodka kind. Other than that, it shouldn’t be put in my mouth. And neither should soap. Sometimes shampoo sounds really good though. Green tea and honey extracts. Nourishing coconut milk. Spicy pepper jack cheese. Don’t be fooled by the labels though—They still taste like soap. And they burn your tongue. And then you have to rinse your mouth out with water. And it’s not the vodka kind. And your naked. And if your naked and there was no vodka involved then it’s all a mystery to me.

Aisle 2

Sometimes I buy groceries. Like when I’m hungry. Or on the wagon. You should never go to the grocery store when you’re off the wagon though. Or under the wagon. Or even next to the wagon for that matter because you don’t need diapers when you don’t even have children. Or maybe you do. I find the people at these stores very considerate. They smile, say hello and even move to the side when you lose control of your cart and can’t stop because your foot is stuck in the cart’s undercarriage from a trick-gone-wrong. Those are some nice people. Not so nice when it comes time for check out though. Slamming down that plastic item divider on the belt. I thought we were friends. You were laughing so hard you cried when I started that food fight in the produce section. Or were you just crying? It’s not like asparagus is sharp. Or even hard for that matter. Except if it’s frozen. I love frozen peas. And popsicles. Popsicles that aren’t frozen I don’t like though. I guess that would be juice. Juice could sting your eyes. But the asparagus couldn’t have hurt that bad. Not bad enough to deserve the divider; the Berlin Wall of grocery stores. My Popov and Robitussin aren’t even close to your Triscuits. You won’t see me throwing down the plastic. Unless it’s to post bail. Or play some Twister. Now that’s a game. Where’d these diapers come from?