December 22nd, 2006

Christmas Death and Albert

Christmassy Stuff

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Very Lady Belfebe the Fiendish of Waldenshire under Throcket
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Oh, I am fiendish all right. In fact, I am very pleased with my fiendishness. I intend to achieve fiendish perfection in fact.

Resistance is futile.


On other news, this morning I saw a really awesome sticker on a car: "Come to the Dark Side . . . We Have Cookies."

Hmmmm . . . cookies.

Of course, my personal favorite has always been: "Jesus loves you. Everyone else thinks you're an asshole," although "Your God, Your Hell, You Go There," comes a close second.

(Boy, am I going to burn in Hell.)

(But it will be fun. I don't think that they have Chippendale dancers in Heaven anyway.)

But going back to our usual Christmas cheer, our flight has been rescheduled and now it is supposed to depart at 6:40 a.m. That means that we need to leave the house no later than 4:30 a.m. Which also means that we must wake up at least at 3:30 a.m.

Oh, joy.

Of course, of the entire family, I am the one that will be the most screwed. You see, Carlos can stay awake all night and just jump into the car at 3:30., while ballistabob has no problem going to bed by 8 p.m., since his internal clock usually wakes him up anytime between 3:30 and 4:00 a.m. anyway. Me on the other hand, I cannot stay awake all night, and I cannot go to bed at 8 p.m., let alone wake up (on my own free will) at 3:30 a.m.

Boy, this is going to be fun.

I think I will go to bed in my clothes and just instruct the guys to roll me into the truck.

I won't complain.

I promise.

In fact, I will probably sleep through the whole thing.

Merry Christmas.

Ho, ho, ho!!!
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