It's a CVS Christmas.

Thanksgiving is over, and it kinda sucks. I'm not beyond crushed, since I feel Thanksgiving is a bridge to a bigger and brighter new era of fun, but still. Knowing that it's over convinces me that Christmas will soon be over, convincing me that I need to learn to grow the fuck up. Ughh.

My glass is half empty, and to make matters worse, I'm on a tight schedule, too. The strange and eccentric Richard Sucker has been confirmed as a major nuisance in my life, and I must attend to the desperate needs of stopping this bloodsucking menace.

You question my sanity, I understand. But have a look for yourself. Stare deep into the eyes of uncontrolled madness. Stare into the face of SUCKER:

You've seen him pillage the Calabrese Manor in hopes of recreating his own, personal Christmas, and will continue to do so for the duration of the holiday season. This will be stopped. Because now it's time to see me and the bros do some damage on that sparkle-faced twit. We're taking back our shit and we're doing it with force.

In essence = less writey, more fighty.

But hey, I ain't too swamped. In preparation, I've pumping iron and learning to not wince at loud sounds, and, naturally, to let my muscles and reflexes to grow, I'm awarded a break. Break be now. So here's something to tide ya over:

A normal trip to CVS for toilet paper has proven that I cannot leave any single stretch of area without a souvenir for the ride home. I could easily be in and out without a hitch, but the burning desire of worldly goods pushes me down dark and tinsel-y aisles. The warm glow of red and green lights offer a welcoming...glow of red and green lights. I'm trying to say that I'm gettin' down with Christmas, people.

And, yeah, it's December, so now's the time to start hoarding Santas and Rudolphs and Grumbles before I remember that rent is due. I live on the wild side.

Today, a CVS Christmas. Found in the $2.99 end cap, I was drawn to the simplicity of the piece. Price, razzle and dazzle -- it's all trivial to what gets at you on a personal, emotional level. For me, that would be a tiny train and plump, para-trooping snowmen.


Like I said, I'm a bit busy with other things, so I'm gonna half-ass it today. I take no shame in this, for all the shame has been substantially used up by dressing up in a Dracula cape and calling myself "Richard Sucker." I suffer for my art.

So, enjoy.
Words words words words snowmen words words words look at those mittens! Words words green mittens words words words words words scarves are for hipsters and anyone born in the era of "A Christmas Carol." I think it was the mid-1970's.

Words words words words words words words how could this not work? Words words words the math is correct, the science is solid, what's stopping Frosty from free falling into mindless, Christmas joy? Words words words words here we go words words:

WORDS WORDS FUCK.

Blah blah blah blah the perfect size for a cockroach to take a joyride around the kitchen. Blah blah blah blah blah wish I never mentioned cockroaches blah blah blah nightmares for a week.

Blah blah blah blah blah ride around a tin full of cookies blah blah blah blah blah blah happy thoughts blah blah blah blah blah I can't believe the damn thing takes batteries, which I have none of blah blah blah blah blah blah blah CHRISTMAS IS RUINED.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I like to think this is Opposite Santa, where instead of coal to fuel the train, he uses gifts and presents and teddy bears. Then, naturally, Opposite Santa leaves coal under every body's Christmas tree blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah sounds like a shitty Vince Vaughn film.

Merry blah blah blah Christmas!