So, that’s a ball of string of Mother Cuddles, three mice for Uncle DeQuince, bowls of milk for Cousin Fluffles and her children, and poisoned catnip toys for my three ex-wives. Who knows, maybe I’ll get them this time – for some reason, DIY Molotov Cocktail Kits didn’t have the desired effect.
Yes, it’s Christmas shopping time. I always leave it late, every year. I always begin December resolving to have it all sorted by the 15th, and somehow it’s always that last week before I get my ass into gear and write down what I need to get everyone. Strangely enough, despite my best efforts, the list of people for whom I need to buy presents gets longer each year, and don’t even get me started on my Christmas card list. I mean, my postman and I may not have the healthiest relationship, but you have to admire a man for willingly lugging the half-dozen odd letter bombs I receive every Thursday morning, and such dedication to the job is worth a card each year. I don’t even know his name, but he gets a card nonetheless – I just address it to Winston.
So, what’s in the news? The Queen’s got another part of Antarctica named after her, and for what? I was at that meeting (I’m good friends with Larry and he snuck me in by the back window), and I know for a fact that she didn’t say one word for the entire meeting. If it were me in that room, I’d have given them a good talking to, sorted out the wheat from the chaff, made sure they knew who was boss. I suppose that’s why I was chucked out.
Obama’s getting ready to stand up to the NRA – it’s David v. Goliath all over again, except now Goliath has an M1903 Springfield and David has a pen. The pen may be mightier than the sword, but against an M14NM it hasn’t got a hope in hell: those babies pack quite a punch.
Oh, and Wiggins got very drunk at his after party – anyone see his rendition of That’s Entertainment? Hilarious.