Please to note: I am a little bit on edge right now, which is to say a lot a bit on edge, for a variety of reasons that sound increasingly stupid to me with every passing minute. The only thing that seems to be helping me maintain a bit of internal stasis is writing in this thing, which is why I've been updating more than usual and not always with gems. So whereas I should perhaps take some of this jiggy over to livejournal, set on private, I'm very "whatever" about that at this point. So I'm a little afraid to say this, but the rest of this godforsaken month may well be liveblogged. And remember...it's not you. It's totally me. Feel free to go read someone who is actually funny (really, go to Matthew Baldwin's site and check out his link blog - especially the "every girl on craigslist", Terry Pratchett and Messiah links. The "every girl" one made me laugh guiltily, Terry Pratchett is a fucking class act (irony?) and the Messiah bit is just amusing.) Or go see someone who takes good photos. And don't say I didn't give you anything for the holiday.
It is Christmas Eve, and what that means Chez Laurie is several stops on the last-minute Christmas shopping train (dammit. Not supposed to happen this year, but Target here I am coming. Dammit.) Then the watching of Scrooged and Christmas Vacation will commence, and a repetitive marathon of South Park holiday specials. I'm holding it all together with a very spindly golden thread, thanks, and having to pull out the big guns to do it. Therefore, last night on the way up the road from paying my last and final rent check from the house I'm moving out of, I sang the Eric Cartman version of O Holy Night to myself in the car, several times. And every time I'd stop at the part where he goes "Fall on your knyas....and hear the angels' SOMETHING (VOICES!)" part and just sing it over and over again and laugh myself stupid. It was fun. ("Kyle's Mom's a Bitch" serves the same purpose for me in non-holiday times as this one and "Swiss Colony Beef Log" keep it all together at Christmas. Again, stay classy Laurie.)
The first video is the one where Kyle cattle prods him whenever he forgets the words. The second one is a stupid montage with him singing the song, but I can't find the actual clip from the episode. DAMMIT.
Yes, there will be therapy in the new year, never fear.
NORAD is tracking Santa Claus for you. It's actually pretty cool, and if you bother to download Google Earth, you can see him in 3-D! Children today have no, absolutely no defense for boredom. Go outside and play - meh. Stay inside and TRACK SANTA IN 3-D? ROCK AND ROLLLLLLLLLLLL.
Also, I'm turning 37-25 in a few days. Regression in the aging process is my new thesis topic. I wish I'd known about this site in the Hallmark store the other day, where this little boy was doing generally little boyish things while his mother was dragging him through the line. And instead of any commiseration with him or just plain telling him to stfu, she kept saying ominously, "Santa Claus is watching you RIGHT NOW." And as in "kept saying," I mean she said it several times, in this creepy, nasty voice. "SANTA CLAUS WATCH YOU RIGHT NOW!!! He sees you!" Go ahead and turn Santa into the grim reaper, mama, you go on with your bad self. Blame it all on him. I mean, how cool if the kid was on the NORAD site and could go, "Actually no dawg, Santa's just gearing up to head over the Arctic Circle RIGHT ABOUT NOW. He's got other things on his plate."
Little do these kids know I'm their silent partner in rebellion, just standing behind them in the Hallmark line rooting for them while their mothers and fathers torture the clerks for extra Gold Crown card discounts.
And just so you know which government agency is sponsoring this experience, NORAD is the North American Defense Command, just so you know, which means that they must know something about him that we don't. Glad someone's keeping an eye on the sneaky...guy (I can't bring myself to call Santa a bad name.)