Operation Take Down the Freakin Christmas Tree Already

Back in October, I took on housemates because I couldn’t afford rent. Laying around all summer, instead of earning heaps of money like I usually do, took a big toll on more than my health. Originally three people moved in, but Grandma went back to Poland after a month, leaving me mother and 13 year old daughter.

I was sure I’d get plenty of blog fodder, as they drove me up the wall and out of my house. But that didn’t happen. Mainly because they argue in Polish, so I don’t know what’s going on, but also because I love and respect them both.

Except for that one thing, when Mom started putting up the Christmas tree on Thanksgiving weekend.

Daughter and I worship the Grinch. He’s our hero. In fact, we’re still fighting over the grinch pants my aunt gave me during the holidays. When the tree got set up, we objected strenuously, begging her to at least wait until December, with me pointing out that it was the twelve days of Christmas, not 120. All to no avail. Up the tree went.

As we enter the third week of January, there’s no sign that the tree will ever be taken down. It’s time for it to go. I said so over the weekend.

"No." said mom. "Not until March. Maybe later."

Freak that. Daughter and I have begun a ‘dismantle the tree’ campaign, enlisting the animals. We're going to make good use of “Cat did it”, the most spoken phrase in the house, as all sorts of stuff, much of it ten times heavier than the cat, gets knocked down/over/off, during the cat’s daily insane flying fits.

Unfortunately, the tree has stoutly withstood the cat’s antics, so we have a plan, beginning with ornaments disappearing a few at a time, escalating to loose branches, a wobbly stand, and ending with wildly cavorting animals creating a big crash. We’ll have this sucker down before the end of the month. The two grinches in this house won’t grow bigger hearts like that pansy in the movie. Christmas is OVER!

The mission is well underway:
Search


Remove


Destroy!
And that dang red holiday crap carpet that makes me so want to pee on it is also outta here.

Quake Safe Homes*

* Disclaimer: Side effects of unsafe placement may be fatal. Do not place your quake proof home near any ‘solid’ man-made structures, such as buildings, bridges, dams, electrical wires or large obnoxious vehicles. Avoid placing near sizable trees, hills that may collapse, or near sites of possible rock slides, avalanches or tidal waves.With proper placement, while these homes may very well fall down upon you in a quake, the worst that would happen is that you would say “Ouch, *#%^!*,” crawl out, rub your aching head, and have to set it back up again.

More Proof That Humans are Idiots

This year’s conference opened by citing the human article that stated:

'Scientists say dolphins should be treated as 'non-human persons'. Dolphins have been declared the world’s second most intelligent creatures after humans, with scientists suggesting they are so bright that they should be treated as “non-human persons”. The researchers argue that their work shows it is morally unacceptable to keep such intelligent animals in amusement parks or to kill them for food or by accident when fishing. The scientific research . . . suggests that dolphins are ‘non-human persons’ who qualify for moral standing as individuals.'

While we applaud this conclusion if it leads to a bid to stop the murder and enslavement of our mates, having our intelligence compared to that of humans is downright insulting.

This article only serves to prove that human beings are persisting in their outrageous belief that they are intelligent, despite their complete inability to live within the natural habitat this planet provides for them. The only reason these creatures didn’t die off a long time ago is because of their creation and use of tools. Somehow, this gives them the erroneous impression that they are better than any other creature on the planet. However, our studies have proven that any human placed outside, in any environment, be it field, jungle, lake or ocean, without tools, without protective covering, does not survive for long, unlike every other species in existence.

Originally, we found this human shortcoming of needing tools to survive to be quaint and amusing. We had no qualms about permitting them to carry on. After all, the ships they built provided us with our own Olympic venue and athletic training centers for our youth. We were able to use the detritus left in the ocean to create our underwater entertainment centers, which as everyone knows, have been highly popular. Watching human efforts to flail about in our element was always a great show, as well as providing valuable research into their behavior.

And of course, what humans did on land was not our concern. However, in recent years, their numbers have increased so alarmingly that our own well being is now threatened. The manufacturing processes involved in the making of the sheer amount of tools that the human species needs simply to get through a single day, is starting to affect our oceans to the point that, in the next several generations, our descendants’ health and well being may be severely affected.

It is time to act. In order to attempt to control the exponential growth of this species, we are in the process of setting up legislation banning aid to any human, as was previously encouraged. No longer are we permitted to assist them when they’re in distress, take them home and play with them, keep them as pets, or leave food out for them. Also, we’re forming research teams with sharks, to determine an effective way to reduce their numbers. Hunting seasons and quotas may need to be mandated in a bid to manage the quantity, before we are forced to say “goodbye and thanks for all the fish.”

Save me

Is there a group for recovering addicts, in particular for those poor sailor souls who are hung up on palm trees and tropical ocean breezes? Because over the weekend, as the white stuff piled up outside, blowing sideways in a definitely-not-the-least-bit-balmy force 8 breeze, I spent several hours trolling yachtworld, looking at sailboats I can never afford. Heck, even if the quintessential sailing vessel landed in my yard for free, I still couldn’t afford it.

My self hypnosis program, entitled ‘palm trees are for pansies, strong people shovel’, is failing me. I feel myself slipping, getting that ‘Florida feeling’, which is a terrible state, because, well, Florida is a terrible state. Still, there it is: a strong urge to flee the white stuff and fondle a coconut.

Maybe I should at least get my car heater fixed. Maybe then I’d be able to stay on the snow wagon?

Happy Snew Year

White stuff is falling on New Year’s Eve, for a change. I do believe this may become an annual New England tradition, just like the Christmas cold I get every year, without fail. Honestly, I’d prefer the fruitcake, to go with all the others out there.

I do pity all the amateurs, who, after getting wild and crazy all evening, will have to navigate that slippery, checkpoint-laden pavement, probably losing their buzz in the process. Personally, I’ll be in bed long before that exciting magical event of numbers increases by one, which is almost as exciting as the day that we go from, say June 9th to June 10th. Woohoo, whoopee!

I don’t normally make New Year’s resolutions, but will make an exception this year: My goal is to avoid deer ticks the way I avoid relationships with men. As if they carry the plague or something. If I find one clinging to me, I’ll bash it with a rock until there’s nothing left but a few shattered bits.

That way I can continue my peaceful, happy, singular, unencumbered existence.

Still, all in all, it’s been a decent year, despite the temporary setbacks of illness, poverty, and driving a car with no heat. Nobody I know, including me, died, and spring is just around the corner.

Right?