Happy New Year, crumbcake
Thank Larry the golden turtle it’s January.
I normally like December and enjoy holiday festivities. I didn’t this year. I had fun, but couldn’t wait for the holly to murder holiday jolly and then go all suicide.
Christmas was weird. My grandfather went to the hospital with chest pains on Christmas eve. All turned out well, but the hospital is not a fun place to visit on Christmas. The nurses are melancholy and patients’ family and friends wander the halls rambling about how mutilated their sick loved one is. Lots of red. No green.
Some of Christmas was salvaged, though.
I got to teach my parents how to make Miis and how to play games on my Wii. My dad kept jumping off cliffs during a Mario game yelling, “where did I go? Where’s the good mushroom? Can I eat that flower?”
It was hilarious.
While my parents were talking to doctors and nurses, I watched Videodrome and The Man Who Fell to Earth. Nothing says “merry Christmas” like watching David Bowie fuck a girl with a gun and then watching James Woods lick a bloody needle.
New Year’s eve went relatively well. I sat in front of a fire, played Wii, drank wine, and partook in general and specialized debauchery.
And now, ah… *sigh* … it’s the new year.
I’ve made a few resolutions. Nothing fancy. Nothing involving weight loss. If I did that, I’d probably die of fatal stick syndrome.
1. Write a “creative” post and illustrate the story once a week/twice a month (depending on my freelance schedule).
2. Get more freelance gigs and write more.
3. Start a “section/column” about sexual health and women’s rights.
Nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary, really.
Any of you folks (or folk) want you share your resolutions with me?