Smells A Lot Like Shit-mas
Tabby-philes,
Thanks for all of your kind e-mails in regards to Silvia. I can't believe how horribly that plan played out, but this kind of shit seems to happen to your old buddy Bill. It's like God is sitting up on his goddamn holier-than-thou chair, giving me the finger.
Some days I wish he's just use that finger to finish the deal. Snuff me out, you cock. I've had enough.
But enough of the cheery portion of my writing. It's getting to that time of the year where I want to sharpen my bayonet and throw it into the face of someone wearing a sweater so fucking hideous, that pudding-eating prick Bill Cosby wouldn't be caught wearing.
Yes. The holidays are coming and I'm not happy about it.
Thanksgiving is coming up and I'm sure I'm going to get the obligatory, half-hearted invite to visit my son and his horrible wife for dinner. I don't even like turkey, for crissakes. If they had a variety of Hot Pockets I could enjoy, maybe... Even still, I'm not much of a conversationalist and I'm still not sure my grandson is all there in the head. The kid has a case of the bug-eyes and he just stares.
I had to check my face in the mirror to make sure a bird didn't shit on me or something.
Needless to say, I probably won't be spending Thanksgiving there.
At the bar I work at (don't ask, I won't tell) ol' Shirley started pulling out the Christmas decorations yesterday. I don't think the shitbirds that come to our bar want to see fucking Santa Claus and his bitch-whore wife hanging from our filthy ceiling. She even tried to set up the shabby fake tree (the late & stupid previous owner) Herbert left behind and the damn thing tipped over and a wire from one of the branches poked her in her eye.
Jack the barback took her to the hospital, because her eye had started to swell and she couldn't get it to stop watering. Great. When she comes back, we're going to have a goddamn pirate on our staff. Avast, fuckers.
I don't know what it is, but Christmas almost always leaves me feeling hollow. Like after I've emptied my stomach when I've got a case of the trots and my asshole is burning like someone set a lit match to it.
Fuck this season.
Thanks for all of your kind e-mails in regards to Silvia. I can't believe how horribly that plan played out, but this kind of shit seems to happen to your old buddy Bill. It's like God is sitting up on his goddamn holier-than-thou chair, giving me the finger.
Some days I wish he's just use that finger to finish the deal. Snuff me out, you cock. I've had enough.
But enough of the cheery portion of my writing. It's getting to that time of the year where I want to sharpen my bayonet and throw it into the face of someone wearing a sweater so fucking hideous, that pudding-eating prick Bill Cosby wouldn't be caught wearing.
Yes. The holidays are coming and I'm not happy about it.
Thanksgiving is coming up and I'm sure I'm going to get the obligatory, half-hearted invite to visit my son and his horrible wife for dinner. I don't even like turkey, for crissakes. If they had a variety of Hot Pockets I could enjoy, maybe... Even still, I'm not much of a conversationalist and I'm still not sure my grandson is all there in the head. The kid has a case of the bug-eyes and he just stares.
I had to check my face in the mirror to make sure a bird didn't shit on me or something.
Needless to say, I probably won't be spending Thanksgiving there.
At the bar I work at (don't ask, I won't tell) ol' Shirley started pulling out the Christmas decorations yesterday. I don't think the shitbirds that come to our bar want to see fucking Santa Claus and his bitch-whore wife hanging from our filthy ceiling. She even tried to set up the shabby fake tree (the late & stupid previous owner) Herbert left behind and the damn thing tipped over and a wire from one of the branches poked her in her eye.
Jack the barback took her to the hospital, because her eye had started to swell and she couldn't get it to stop watering. Great. When she comes back, we're going to have a goddamn pirate on our staff. Avast, fuckers.
I don't know what it is, but Christmas almost always leaves me feeling hollow. Like after I've emptied my stomach when I've got a case of the trots and my asshole is burning like someone set a lit match to it.
Fuck this season.
posted by Bill Tabernacle at 11:09 AM
8 Comments:
my you really do have the "christmas spirit," don't you. harhar
you're a sweetie, Mr. Tabernacle
My sister and I have been
checking in to see how you were (Happy Veteran's Day,
Mr Tabernacle!) - Up here
in Canada, we call it Rememberance Day, and my
sis asked if I had checked
up on you, after all, you
are a Korean Vet, and we
were so anxious for you
to get Silvia back.
We had been checking and
so today, it seemed so appropriate to see you
were safe, although we
could not believe the fiasco and the ending to
poor Silvia. At least
the punk kid isn't driving
your Silvia around - and I didn't like a lot of what
he did to your car.
Glad you are safe, though,
that's the important thing.
And now, we are on to Thanksgiving and Christmas.
We had our Canadian Thanksgiving here, and the stove didn't work, so we
had Turkeyless Taco Thanksgiving - think we might make that into a tradition.
I certainly don't have a hate on for Christmas, or
Shitmas, as you referred to it - I would love to
hear some of your best
Christmas memories, Mr. Tabernacle. We all have
one - and one of the saddest things that I see
too much,really, is that
the older I get, the more
the commercialism comes
out, and the meaning seems
to get lost.
I've been trying hard to
work on making Christmas
special once again, after
a four year hiatus - in 200l,
an accident took the Christmas right out of me,
amongst a few other traditions, so I think
Mr. Tabernacle needs to be
added to my Christmas
'Wishlist' for people to
have a good time this year.
The last paragraph, about the hollowness, just has
to be changed. It's possible, now let's start
with 'Joy to the World'.
Smiling at you, and hope
you get a few Hot Pockets
this Thanksgiving!
Cathi and Katie
Mr. Tabernacle, I have the utmost respect for our Korean War veterans. Ever get any Asian pussy? Tighter than a mouse's ear.
I jabbed a toothpick in my thumb today (while scratching one of those win-money tickets) and a bunch of yellow pus came out.
I thought, that's weird. It should be red instead of yellow. I mean, most people bleed, right?
My thumb was fine beforehand. I was using it for all kinds of everyday things and it wasn't giving me any trouble.
Now I'm thinking, I must have got some kind of lightning infection from that toothpick. I'm talking about germs that travel faster than the speed of sound (or possibly even light.)
Ever see anything like that in Korea?
-WBCz
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I think you'd feel better if you shot some holes in some of those annoying blow-up holiday decorations I see all over the place.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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