To You and Yours

Tis the season, then! Time for my annual Christmas update, bloggies. (As of this year, actually.)

My cat is peeing on all my stuff. I hate him. I know, I know. He could have a feline UTI or something, whatever. B keeps pulling the sympathy card for him, though why? I have no idea. He's a bastard. He's doing it on purpose. I was sick as a dog this week. He got his furry ass up on my goddamn bed and pissed on my blankets...while we were still in them. I'm digging a kitty-sized hole.

I hate sleeping bags. That's a story for another time. Perhaps the Veteran's Day letter...

What the fuck is with nothing being on on television? It's like, I'm watching some gaddamn weird-ass shows since my options are the contemptous, yet light-hearted, "Jack" and the psuedo-edgy, made for thirty-somethings, "Shit." I have seen that Grinch movie like a hundred times. And now--and now--they're running bullshit marathons...the "Naughty Movie" Marathon? I thought this sounded good. Guess what? No. Somehow some TV exec managed to find this unifying banner to unload a lot of unrelated, yet equally nauseating shit...Fast and the Furious II, Happy Gilmore, and How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days? I'm light-headed with loathing. These are. not. naughty movies.

You know what is a naughty movie? Porn. Stop getting my hopes up, USA! I see more naughty on the 7PM showing of Nip/Tuck.

Anything else I been thinking? Oh! I have been coughing so much from that damn illness (next time, I'm being innoculated...grumble, grumble...coughing up blood shortly...fucking savage ingrate children), that I feel like I've done a thousand crunches. I'll be the one in the iron lung with abs of steel!!

Taking a plane on Saturday. Can't wait for that. Did you know if you blow a tire on take off, your plane catches fire and you have to unload all your gas in the ocean before returning to the runway with your chest palpitations? But there are television screens...get this...in the back of the seats!! I can watch the Naughty Movie marathon as I plummet to certain death! Hoo-rah!

Happy Fucking Holidays.