Well, the fucking Snow Miser just emptied his goddamn colon on our humble burg last night and I got to spend my first morning of 2008 shoveling his load off our driveway. Fucking dick. And by the way, why is he called the "Snow Miser" if he's the guy who makes it snow? There's nothing miserly about him. He just dumps snow willy-nilly all over the fucking place. If anything, HE'S the Heat Miser, and his brother would be the Snow Miser. Doesn't make any fucking sense. I think the morons who made "The Year without A Santa Claus" should pull their animated heads out of their rankin-bASS.
And while we're on the subject of shitty Xmas specials that ruined my childhood, what the shit ever happened to the most depressing of them all: "The House without a Christmas Tree"?! I used to have to watch that fucker every goddamn year and fight the uncontrollable urge to fucking slit my wrists afterward because I was so depressed. It had Jason Robards as this asshole dad who was clinically depressed because his wife had died, and then there was his bespectacled daughter who wanted to have a Xmas tree every year but the dad would always say ixnay on the uckingfay eetray. I think it either ends with the dad finally giving in and getting a tree, or the two of them drinking bleach and stumbling outside into the snow to die. No wonder I get depressed every Xmas. Fucking Jason Robards. Dick.
I think it's a good thing the spawnage are heading off to winter break camp for the next few days -- 11 days of the crabbyfamily crammed together in close quarters is starting to take its toll on everyone. Miss O is doing the camp at the elementary school and Mr. Z is heading out into the arctic tundra at the nature center camp in Lansing. I think it'll do him some good to get outside and kill a bear, or whatever it is they're gonna do over there. He's been sitting inside for the last 11 days with his face glued to the screen of his new Nintendo DS that we got him. Fucking crystal meth machine is what that thing is. Personally, I don't get it. I know they're all the fucking rage, but the thing bores the shit outta me.
Now the Wii that we got -- that's another fucking story. Holy shitballs, the fucker is tits. I've been bowling my ass off for the last coupla days and I think I'm ready to join the Pro-Bowlers tour. I'm a regular Earl Anthony... er, Earl Anthonii.
More about the Wii later. I gotta take a wii and get some fuckiing sliip.