Editor’s Note: This is a cautionary tale of what can happen when you mix the gift-exchange process with excessive amounts of alcohol…
On the first shot of Christmas, my true love gave to me… oh, a copy of “Dead Rising 2” for the XBOX 360. He is SO sweet to do that, fully understanding my need to annihilate hordes of people that I don’t like. Granted, this game doesn’t provide a very peace-loving view of the world, insisting that you slaughter people in a shopping mall without getting a chance to really get to know them. But there’s a part of me that simply enjoys indiscriminate gore and bloodshed. Probably the part of me that also laughs when people trip over nothing and smash their face in the ground. It’s probably hormonal.
And look at this, he also got me the Game Guide for Dead Rising, so I can be sure to track down every possible person that can be killed in the mall, even if they have nothing to do with the story or the missions. My guy is really thoughtful to include that. I’m just going to place these over here in a clear space on the coffee table, where I plan to stack all of my loving gifts, especially the ones that involve carnage. It can be my death pile. Everyone needs one of those.
On the second shot of Christmas, my true love gave to me… a Kinect for the XBOX 360! You know, one of those things where you don’t even need a controller, you just hop around in front of it and the thing interprets your actions and you either win or lose. It’s very sophisticated and high-tech, the latest gadget that everyone must have if they plan on remaining socially relevant.
We got to watch folks using one of these at a party a month or so ago. They were leaping about, doing high kicks and such, so it was very exhilarating. They were also sweating, and that didn’t seem as festive. I’m not sure that I need to be moist in public. But I’m glad that my honey remembered that I was interested in the Kinect. Of course, I helped his memory along by declaring something along the lines of “this better be under the tree for me or there will be complications”. There’s a reason why I keep an attorney on retainer at all times.
On the third shot of Christmas, my true love gave to me… (what is in this drink?)… um, some new jammie pants! I love jammie pants! I have tons, but my absolute favorite pair was getting a bit worn out, with a large gaping hole big enough that you could drive a truck through, in a very personal place. Let’s just say that freedom’s just another word for bending over to change the DVD player.
I think I’ll put these on right now. Oh wait. There’s tags and stuff. I don’t really have the energy to mess with that right now. I’ll just throw the jammie pants on my little pile and worry about things later.
On the fourth shot of Crispness, my true love gave to me… Crystal Bowersox’s CD! She SO should have won American Idol, not that other guy. What’s his name? Lee something? Crystal was WAY better, but I can see how she scared some of the budding Barbie dolls with her questionable teeth color and hairstyles that were not necessarily a wise choice. But that girl could sing. Especially when she did that one song. I can’t remember the name right now. Something like “Go Tell Pa On Walton’s Mountain”. And that other song, about Summer Breeze, makes her feel fine. Apparently her boyfriend stopped making her feel fine, cuz he got the boot. Sure did….
What were we talking about?
On the fist shot of Crispy, my too love gave to me… This better not be underwear. Whoops. It’s underwear. But I really did need some new pairs. Some of my older pair are paper thin (you can see France!), and the elastic has been reduced to a fine white ash that leaves a chalk mark around my waist. So panties are good. Wait. Where did panties come from? I don’t wear panties. Do I? (Sound of underwear package being tossed haphazardly onto gift pile, with something skittering off the table and crashing to the floor. No one checks to see what it might be.)
On the…. what shot are we on? Six? Are you sure? I thought I already sang that one. Anyway, now we have… (sounds of difficulty with tape applied to resilient wrapping paper)… it’s… oh, an electric Scrabble game! It tells you your score and beeps and everything. This is SO cool. I love it! What’s next?
On top of old seven shot, all covered with cheese… I found my true love, when somebody… I can’t get this one open. Can you do it for me? I’ve REALLY got to pee. Be right back. (Sounds of slightly staggering feet, followed by the distant crash of something that was no longer on the bathroom counter, and the toilet seat being slammed downward with enough force to create a small mountain in China.)
I don’t remember the numbers any more. Just give me another present.
Why is it called tequila? Does it mean something to Spanish people? I wish I knew Spanish. I know French. Well, I used to know French. Somebody knew French, and I think it was me. I’m not sure. Do you really love me? Hey! I have two feet!
I don’t KNOW why I’m crying. That commercial was just SO sad. What do you mean the TV isn’t on? You’re a LIAR. A LIAR! Wait. Who are you? Do you know how to make margaritas? I love margaritas.
I don’t WANNA open nothin’ else and you can’t make me. And I am NOT slobbering on you! Boys are stupid. And plaid. Boys and plaid are stupid. And cars. Why are there so many cars? They’re everywhere. All over the place. With their wheels and everything. Does anybody have any croutons?
On the twev shot tequila crispy… gave me true… the something… LOVE! I love everybody. EVERYBODY! I just want happy and peaceness for Paul, the whole world. I’d like to teach the world to… what is it? Why are there nuns on the crispy tree? Penguins? Who puts… that stupid… I’m so tired… but I love everybody… and if I go to sleep, no more singing and love… for me… and that’s all I want. Peace for Paul. And to all a good… I’m just gonna lay my head on this Kenny box… just for a second… peace… love… all… and croutons…
Best wishes to everyone, wherever you may be and whatever you are doing at this moment in time. Embrace it.