Tuesday 25 December 2012

Secondary effects of blogging on Christmas day

Exposure to insipid holiday cartoons can be the most hazardous side effect of committing font to display today. Otherwise, the dog is pretty content. Santa gave her four gigantic chewing outlets. Three are made of combinations of rawhide and some meat-like substance reminiscent of Snausages. The last is an honest to goodness thighbone of some unfortunate stock animal, treated with radiation or petrochemicals to preserve it, I guess. It's got a meaty kind of coating on it, and smells vile. Perfect for a dog.

One of my gifts was a great knife to threaten roving Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses and Evangelicals who dare to tread on my porch.

So, today commemorates the day Jesus changed the fishes into wine, and the bears into beer. The foundation of two thousand years of theological haggling and that's the best we could come up with. I feel, being fresh into a new millennium and all, that maybe some things ought to change. For one thing, all liturgical music should be replaced with songs by Bachman Turner Overdrive. I'm thinking, Taking Care of Business during communion, and You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet for Easter celebrations.


  1. I bought my dog a squeaky pig for Christmas. It lost its squeaker within an hour. Blasted flimsy, non dog-proofed dog toys!

    Merry Jesus Day and all that guff, my man/men! I am not dead, by the way, just mortally wounded by commercialism. But do not cry for me! The world will end according to the Mayan calendar in two days...

    What, you mean it should have ended already? Oh, poopie...

  2. Squeaky pigs aren't made like they used to be. Hell, I lived in the shoebox in the middle of the road, cold bowl of gravel for breakfast, etc, etc.