n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



Feb 4, 2001 - 1:24 pm

A Christmas Story

My new goal in life is to feel as if I am on vacation all the time. I've found that pursuing this goal is easier when I start each day by reading the paper, drinking a pot of coffee, smoking some cigarettes and then playing The Pixies really loud as I jump around my apartment like a fool.

My cousin Dave unwittingly assisted me in this goal when he gave me a $25 gift certificate for Christmas. The gift certificate was good at several different stores, none of which were located in Illinois. I'm not sure if Dave realized this or not, but I think he may have, because along with the gift certificate he gave me a (as yet, unconsumed) 12 pack of Rolling Rock, perhaps to make me drunk and forget that these stores didn't exist in Chicago. Luckily, a few days later, I came across one of the stores in DC, and promptly purchased 'Death To The Pixies' which cost $26.98, which I always wanted to purchase but never would have if not for the gift certficate. Thanks, cousin Dave!

There are some good stories about cousin Dave. He's older than me, and has long black hair and wears glasses. He talks just like the 'Superfans' from Saturday Night Live, if you remember them. We thought he was joking around when he started to do that, but, alas no. In high school, Dave earned the nickname 'Mad Dog' because he growled when he wrestled. He now lives and is romantically entangled with a woman as old as his mother. Her name (of course) is JoAnne. She just got her first computer for Christmas, and, despite the fact that she didn't even know what eBay was, is toying with the idea of starting her own online business.

Her big plan? A website where people pay to read poetry, but "none of that dirty stuff."

My friends, I didn't have the heart.

Speaking of Christmas:

This joyous yule scene is from Christmas day at FadeIn's mom's house. In case what's happening in the picture isn't clear, allow me to explain.

If you look to the far right, you'll see the ever so classy midget butler end table, which my mother adores. Unbeknownst to her, the butler has always been possessed by Satan. At the moment this picture was taken, Satan took the opportunity to jump from the butler and into Barney, the family dog. This fact is evidenced by the creepy glow in poor Barney's eyes, and the evil grin on his little dog face. My brother Barry has his eyes closed in deep concentration as he attempts to strangle the spirit of the Devil out of the hapless pup. This attempt was unsuccessful, and caused my brother Bob to lean over and start punching himself in the face in despair. You can see me, kneeling on the left, looking on in shock as I grasp my right forearm (which, incidentally was also possessed) to keep it from petting my left knee, which, as part of Satan's plan, was more confusing than anything else.

Just another typical Christmas.

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