Are you dead, you ask. Silly question, you might think. After all, if I was dead, how could I blog? Well, fer fuck’s sake, how many surgeries have I, almost immediately, blogged after? On the back side of how many big fat goddamned seizures, have I managed to scribble?
Given this, it stands to reason – I oughta be able to blog while dead. N'est-ce pas and shit?!
I hear you (neat trick since I'm all deaf and shit, right?) asking me ¿por qué estás muerto? Warum bist du tot? Why have I gone on to my post-breath drawing reward? OK, maybe I actually AM still alive and kickin' it up BUT I’ve
SEEN Heaven, tasted it, in fact. Know what Heaven is?
Poppies Belgian Chocolate Macaroons (courtesy of sister Celeste). THIS and a thousand other peasant level/grocery store (yet DIVINE) Xmas cookies. I’m having my morning coffee with cookies and I could not BE more content!
Yesterday, Christmas don’cha know, I couldn’t wait a second longer and forced Jen to open her prezzie before we sat down for brekkie. Yes, I got her Baby Yoda. OK, it’s a reasonable facsimile NOT the actual Baby Y. I swear, the kid’s ALMOST the whole reason we watch Mandalorian. Well, we can't forget the Krayt dragon, Blurrgs and the very Clint Eastwood-ish Mando. (Eastwood before he dove off the sanity train into the talking-to-empty-chairs brand of right wing idiot, dipshit politics.)
In any case, Jen loves Baby Y. OF COURSE! I would’ve gotten one for myself too but Coco put her foot down “you will have no other adorables but ME – I HAVE SPOKEN!”
Yeah, my old kitten can be a bit of a selfish twat.
We – Jen, Ten, Oni
and I – snarfed our Chinese food and baked ziti (swear ta Bast, when Oni
cooks, he’s totally Italian) and watched another coupla brill eps of
our fave show. It was a very good, peaceful day.
This new, fabola T-shirt (one of my awesome prezzies) perfectly captures how I feel when I make the rare trip outdoors for a walk and see maskless neighbors. On Christmas Eve, just one fucking 24 hour span, there were close to 6,000 new Republican Plague cases and 76 fresh deaths here in Massachusetts alone.
When I die, by the by, it’s gonna be from my myriad fucking brain tumors and NOT because of the insane bungling, lies and stone incompetence of the dim-fucking-witted Republican Party and their mentally banjaxed top. My cause of death's already mapped out and I'm sticking to the plan. Dammit.
25 days until President Biden and Vice President Harris!
Just FYI, I did NOT get this, a Smart snow-racer, for Christmas. I’d have a sad but it’s not like I drive anymore. Ya know, I would if this’d been in my Xmas stocking – hmmph.
Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.
~ Mark Twain
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
~ Walt Whitman
Happiness is not a goal...it's a by-product of a life well lived.
~ Eleanor Roosevelt
No comments:
Post a Comment