A story I wrote for the Nudge Wink Report. It’s my holiday gift to you.
Ah, the first week of December. I don’t know about you but that’s when I traditionally pause and reflect on all the good times we’ve shared during a year that’s now coming to an end.
Hmm. Never mind.
Speaking of traditions, though, I’ve been thinking about those, too. Especially the holiday variety. Both those that have remained the same throughout the years and new ones that were hoisted upon me without my express knowledge and consent.
Some traditions are good and the earliest memories of them are engraved irrevocably in my brain. Like the time I opened the hall closet and found hidden on the top shelf a bunch of colorful presents. And, get this, they all said they were from Santa Claus. (Oops. Spoiler alert.)
View original post 989 more words
I recently updated by bio to include “singer” and “songwriter.” My dishonesty is your pain. This is where you pay for tuning in.
Behold, the newest member of the Abyss family. A humble little ditty called “My Christmas Song.” Be advised: You should not listen to this.
Fun fact: I was channeling Burl Ives when I laid down the vocal tracks.
Now please enjoy this, my gift to you. It’s the gift of time in the form of one minute of your life you’ll never get back.
I’m already thinking ahead to next Christmas and that I’ll likely make a dish. Perhaps something that I can’t pronounce like bolognese. Meat is definitely a requirement.
What happens when you try to come up with a menu to appease seven human beings, each with differing dietary restrictions, penchants, picadillos, likes, dislikes, preferences, predilections, disinclinations, propensities, and predispositions?
Answer: Exponential permutations.
Good news. It looks like we’ll only need 128 different dishes to satisfy everyone.
Do you have the right to put up Christmas decorations? Of course you do. We are a country based on property rights and religious freedom.
Unless your decorations go against the prevailing winds of the primary government-backed religion. Laws, yes.
A town is taking legal action against a homeowner because they do not like his zombie-themed nativity scene. They do not like it at all.
So they did what any government entity would do. They took out the rule book and dusted off every arcane statute they could find to hassle the guy.
That’s using the old noodle. Mmm, brains. Let us pray!
Police forces across our great nation are financially strapped and forced to cut and prioritize services, but do not worry. The city has code enforcement funding to protect us against zombie Jesus.
In other news, a woman who practices the Pastafarian religion recently won the right to wear a colander in her driver’s license photo. I think I’m in love.