Friday, December 24, 2010

The Faithful Are Coming


My Christmas gift to all the faithful readers of this intellectually vapid blog is this - get a copy of Harvey Birdman Season 1 & watch an episode from that season titled Blackwatch Plaid. You will not be sorry for the effort. Why, you may be wondering? Well, that particular episode of Harvey Birdman not only features Harvey (my man Gary Cole) being Harvey, but more importantly it features my main, main, main man - Secret Fucking Squirrel, who is on trial for flashing some chick. The whole episode is just about the most entertaining 8 or 10 minutes you will ever witness.


Speaking of Secret Squirrel, I got a Christmas package in the mail the other day from Andy, Mary, and Mama Stills. And inside was a limited edition picture of Secret Squirrel using some kind of advanced computer technology. It's hard to describe. I'll try and find a copy online and put it at the top of this post. Hold on...Well, I found it and downloaded it, but you really have to see it in person. It basically consists of a montage of cel images from the show that were mixed together to form an image of Secret Squirrel. The online image doesn't do how cool it looks justice. Anyway, I wanted to say a big thanks to Andy, Mary, & Mama Stills - it might be the best gift I've ever received.


Speaking of Harvey Birdman, I'd love for them to do one more episode featuring Harvey defending an animated likeness of the Birdman, my man Chris Anderson. They could call it: Two Birdmen In The Hand.


I made it out yesterday afternoon to buy just a couple of gifts for someone and made the mistake of going into the Red Dot Store on Wendover. As I was aimlessly wandering the aisles waiting for inspiration to strike, I overheard a very heated conversation between what I could only assume were a mother/son out looking for last minute gifts. The basic point of contention between this mother/son duo seemed to center around bra size - which struck me as very odd considering the son was around 13 and the mother had a not super voluptuous bosom. The son was begging the mom to buy a 36C. And the mom kept insisting that a 34B was sufficient. Did I mention that the conversation was not happening in the lingerie area of the Red Dot Store? In fact, this mother/son pair was smack in the middle of the baby aisle looking at the various options as far as powders and oils. Very odd. I didn't want to linger too long attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation. But the fake journalist in me got the best of me momentarily and I went to the next aisle where they have the baby seats and carriages. While standing there I overheard the mother, a somewhat fetching blonde I might add, drop this nugget of information that clarified things for me: "Honey, you're already getting plenty of KY in your stocking. I don't think you need baby oil as well. Mommy really likes it when we use the KY. " I raced toward the exit, dropped the few trinkets I was contemplating purchasing in the book area, and bolted out of that Red Dot Store. I can't see going back anytime soon either.


I haven't had an opportunity to see any of the holiday movies that tent to be aired to exhaustion this time of year. I guess I've been too caught up in football, hoops, and binge drinking here lately. Big shocker there! The one film I wish some network would air is Ernest Saves Christmas. It is perhaps the worst piece of cinematic crap ever made about Christmas. I highly recommend it for just that reason. It's so unwatchable that it's entertainingly unwatchable, if that makes sense.


It's been said that the Christmas season is the #1 time of year for suicides. Which is understandable if someone is subjected to multiple listenings of Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. That very "song" came on the radio the other day as I was tooling around the Gate City. If I'd have had a gun handy, I might have shot myself on the spot. Whoever liked that terrible garbage? And why? Why? Why?


I got into an interesting conversation with some chick a number of years ago about Santa's elves. I was speculating what their jobs involved during the slow times of the year when there wasn't much work available. This chick said the elves probably collect unemployment benefits, food stamps, etc. I wasn't totally inclined to disagree with her. But my thoughts on how these elves passed the time when work was scarce at the old toy shop involved performing hourly fellatio on jolly old St Nick.


Looks like we might get a few inches of snow tomorrow at some point. And for those readers here in Greensboro, in case you don't get a chance to catch WFMY News 2's coverage of this weather event, remember - you may wanna go ahead and buy a shovel to move the snow off your driveway.


All right, I'm quitting for the day. I hope everyone has a nice Christmas. Ho, Ho. Ho.


Disappear















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