The thermals were hung way above, (I mean really, really high above) the wood stove with care, because Al is so freaking paranoid that fires will start everywhere. He’s really quite anal, this husband of mine. He puts in the dishwasher one spoon at a time and stacks the plates like toy soldiers in line!
Ooops. Sorry I got carried away.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Al sprang from the bed, tripped over the dog bones and fell with a splatter.
He cursed like a sailor, got up and to the window he flew like a flash,
Unholstered his gun and turned on the laser. It lit up his whole head which was now sporting a gash. While out from from the closet came his hand-made ghillie suit. (Martha Stewart eat your heart out) Watching this scene was really a hoot.
The moon on the breast on the lawn glowed without snow – no white Christmas – just mud thanks to freaking El Nino.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a big ass pick-up with a bed full of beer.
With a drunken old redneck so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was only some hick – and not the zombie apocalypse
He whistled, and shouted and called the cases by name with his might
Now, Budweiser now, Busch! now Miller, Now Coors Light!
He fell out of his truck and his smile revealed he was missing a tooth,
Poor Al was so sad there were no zombies to shoot.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard a noise on the roof. I squinted my eyes and then turned around. Down the chimney that old hick came with a bound.
He was dressed in his undies, no clothes could be seen – his butt was all singed and his face looked real mean. A bundle of bottles he had in his sack,
He looked like my ex-husband coming home from the bar – Oh God I so wanted to yack.
His eyes were all glazed, he was drunk as a skunk and looking quite crazed.
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
He drooled from his mouth and his butt was quite hairy.
The beard on his chin was as white as the snow – You could see bits of his dinner (corn, peas and raccoon, I think) matted in the long rows. I looked around to escape but there was no place to go.
The stump of a Marlboro in his teeth he held length-ways,
And the smoke, it encircled his head in a haze;
He had a broad face and a huge round beer belly
That shook when he farted and was really quite smelly.
But soon I just knew there was nothing to fear – he was just an old hillbilly who drank too much beer.
A wink of his eye and swig from his bottle – I’m still thanking God he didn’t reach for his throttle.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the undies with booze and roadkill jerk,
And laying his finger inside of his nose, he plucked a green booger
And up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his truck, the tires he peeled, and drove toward the neighbors house – it was really surreal
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of site, Dana, you’re having a dream – no more moonshine for you – just stick with Kahlua and cream!
Now that I got the chuckle out of the way, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you for all of your love and support. I really enjoy writing my blogs (it keeps me from online shopping) and I love hearing all of the wonderful feedback from my tribe of readers.
I realize that sometimes I’m not always “PC.” You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t agree with me. (okay time to get this rhyming crap out of my head). Just drop me an email and let me know how you feel. Your feedback is important to me. If I don’t agree with you, however, I know how to operate the “block” button. 🙂
So Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza, Happy Yule, Happy Festivus and Happy any group I forgot to mention. Oh let me just address one more thing.
In some places (like my office) there’s a huge controversy as to whether one should say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays at this time of the year. God forbid we insult anyone. There are a diverse group of religions on this planet. If for example, you are Christian and someone wishes you a Happy Yule, don’t mutter “damn pagan” (not very Christian or human) under your breath. Simply reply Happy Yule in return. It’s not so much the words at it is the intention behind the words. Someone is blessing you in the way in which they are accustomed. It’s not an attack. It’s a gift from their heart to yours.
Let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with me.