The Rudolph Red-Nosed Rap

It is the night before Christmas, and I swear to whatever you hold holy that I'm not writing a ripoff holiday poem.  It literally is the night before Christmas.

I spent the day thusly:
- A haircut was procured, largely as a present to my mother.  I'm looking good.
- Drinks and Jenga were had/played for several hours.  My father was new to the game, but plays like a champion dick.
- Food.  Food, food, more food, then food mixed with food to make other food.
- Cleanup and drinks.
- New fleece pyjama pants (it's a tradition.  My sister is in head-to-toe reindeers.  Rudolph is her bitch.).
- Terrible tv xmas specials.

Christmas is kind of awesome this year.  Just sayin.'

Fro fro

Hello, Internet. 


It's been a while, how are you?  I'm fine, been taking exams.  Say hi to your mother for me.


I've just had the strangest dream.  At least, the end of it was something strange, that's really all I remember. Here goes:

In my high school gymnasium, and through the healing power of dodgeball:  I, a black kung-fu-master-gym-teacher just helped a flamboyantly gay kid and a little black kid with a semi-progressive physical handicap come to terms with themselves and deal with their anger at the world.

Oh, and it was 1969.  Racial overtones were definitely part of the dream.  Should have seen the afro I was rockin'.

I woke up cry-laughing because the disabled kid and I had just had a serious heart -to-heart and I, in the process of showing him the brighter side, cracked a joke about how he'd have an edge when it came to picking up girls because he was going to have wheels way before his brother and his friends.  

That's right.  In my dream, I made a wheelchair joke to a little handicapped boy.   Luckily, it went over well.