Sunday, December 9, 2007

Let's go to the movies!


Bernard, or as I call him, Bew-NAHD, feels sorry for me. Maybe because he and my Mom are alcoholics and it was his idea to make perfect Manhattans to keep them nice and loose during their Christmas movie marathon? He keeps bringing me food and stuff, like a harissa turkey sandwich from Greeno's Deli (it was fucking great - I will just give a quiet "Thanks" without making eye contact and without encouraging further discourse, as I find this is the best way to continue getting gifts).

By the way, here is the actual Christmas movie marathon list (I swear to Moroni) with commentary:

Christmas Shoes

Retarded movie starring Rob Lowe about a retarded boy who thinks his retarded mother who is dying of cancer needs new Christmas shoes in case she dies and meets Jesus. Oh my fucking God, do you believe this shit!!! Then some retarded good Samaritan buys the fucking shoes for the kid. Here's the twist though - the Mom dies in the end, not because of the cancer, but because she trips over the shoes and has a heart attack (this last part is just a guess)!

Other dumb-ass movies

I cannot do this anymore. Let's just say my Mother has already died inside.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

More proof...


...that Jesus hates me. On November 19th, I slipped on a Maraschino cherry in the kitchen and shattered my ankle. I have been horribly depressed. I haven't felt like sharing lately. Sorry to all of my faithful acolytes.

One free guess where the offending accoutrement came from. "Oops," right Mom?