Christmas Is Coming

Christmas is coming
The goose is getting fat
Everywhere I go I wear my santa hat
If you haven’t got a santa hat a stocking cap will do
If you havent’ got a stocking cap you’ll say ker-choo!

Christmas is coming
Have you bought your wine?
Better do it soon because I won’t share mine
If you haven’t got a bottle your Christmas will be lame
And you won't have anyone except yourself to blame

Christmas is coming
With presents on the tree
How the hell they got up there, don’t ask me
If you didn’t get a present, consider this advice:
Santa will skip over you if you’re not nice

Christmas is coming
Have you extra lives?
You’ll need all of them if you should hear Burl Ives
If you don’t run screaming from the room you’ll wanna stab yourself
Then dial 9-1-1 and give a call for help

Christmas is coming
Light a penny candle
Bring me all the peanut brittle I can handle
If you haven't got a peanut, some toffee will be fine
And a little box of chocolates and some deep red wine
Deep red wine,
Deep red wine,
Merlot is fine,
La la la!

Mom's Banana Bread

I just baked up some banana bread. I got this recipe from Mom years ago and I think it's a great and easy recipe.

Mix together:
1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs

Add: 3 bananas, mashed
Then add:
2 cups flour
1 tsp soda

Then add: about 1/2 cup nuts, ground to a fine meal

Bake at 350 in loaf pan for 1 hour.
This recipe is so easy, there's no reason to ever buy a banana bread mix!

yuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Kegeling

Kegel, kegel, kegel, kegel, kegel
Kegel, kegel, kegel, kegel, kegel
Kegel, kegel, kegel, kegel, kegel

If I type 3 sets is it the same as doing them?

Kegeling sounds like the olympic sport where you push those little pots down the ice and sweep frantically in front of them.

It sounds like an old Norwegian custom involving singing, throwing fish, and eating krumkake. Or a really big bump on a ski slope. Or a beer measurement: "that guy can drink 15 metric kegels of beer!" Or the act of rolling around on the floor in an aimless pattern.

Sounds innocuous enough. 

Oh, but it isn't.

Supposedly, both women and men can benefit from doing kegels. They are an integral part of strengthening exercises for the core muscle group that supports the lower back. So they tell me.

That doesn't mean they are fun to do. Not as much fun as throwing fish and eating krumkake.

Exploding Heads - Addendum

My head exploded in a burst of glory on Saturday, December 4, spraying the walls, ceiling and racks of clothing at Maurice's.

I didn’t want to go anywhere. I was bloated and cranky. But I needed to check out a certain brand of jeans that is supposed to look good on fat asses, so I went out. (I stayed all night, the next night too. I’d be there still, no doubt. But I had to do an errand, so the next night, I went out. **)

I had tried on about 10 pairs without having to engage in much conversation with anyone, when a sales clerk spied me and said, “Has anyone been helping you? Have they told you about these jeans?” I mumbled something like, “Oh, not really, but I found what I wanted.” WHAT WAS I THINKING? Please see above: I wasn’t.

And then it was like someone flipped a switch! She said, “blah blah blah 20% off of any sweater if you buy blah blah blah Maurices credit card blah blah blah blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” And I said “well, thank you but no thank you and I don’t want a Maurice’s card.” Ah, but she was not so easily denied. And she said, “Oh, but blah blah blah blah blah blah!!”

I left her standing there, by the rack of fleece-lined sweatshirts, and escaped to the check out counter. And the girl said, “CanIpleasehaveyourphone numberDowehaveyouremailaddresstoreceivespecialoffersAreyouawareofourspecialtodayifyoubuyapairofjeansyoucanget20%offanysweater….”

It took every bit of my strength not to scream at her and say, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN! JUST LET ME PAY FOR MY PANTS AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!” Oh, but I was screaming it inside, I tell you!!

Yeesh. Then my head exploded. 

**taken from What Was I Scared Of by Dr. Seuss

Current Address: The State of Self-Denial

It occurs to me that the older we get, the more we deny ourselves. This seems somehow the opposite of the way things ought to be. We should get license to allow ourselves more, the longer we're here --  why isn't it working that way?

I deny myself so many things: donuts, chocolate, potato chips, staying up late, relaxing instead of exercising, movie popcorn, new underwear……….I’m forever telling myself no.

Why am I thusly compelled? What is behind this perpetual state of self-denial? I’ll tell you: It’s GUILT. Self-Denial is driven by Guilt. Self-Denial and Guilt pull up in front of my house in an old, rusted-out Chevy van, and just sit there. If I don’t open the door to Self-Denial, then Guilt will leave the van, come INto my house and just follow me around through every room  --  an unwanted, unwelcome guest.  Saying no to things I want is the only way to keep Guilt out at the curb.

Well, I’m tired of it, really. I want to relish and revel. Why can’t I relish things? Why can’t I revel?  A life of self-denial is a boring life indeed. Give me that cheeseburger with bacon and fries, I tell you, and leave the cottage cheese in the kitchen!! Do I really want my potentially last moments on this Earth to be ones of restraint and longing??

Guilt, you fiend, release me from your hellish grasp!! Loose me among the grocery aisles and lingerie departments of this world to run free and unfettered, gathering as I go, till from my arms spill forth a wealth of foodstuffs, panties, and sundries! Oh Life, is it too late? Am I too weak? Can I win the battle? And if I do - what will become of me?