Jerks, Crying Children & Crackheads, OH MY!

So it's NYE time and every girl in America is running out to get her hair & nails done, dancing shoes, a cute outfit and the right jewelry so she can party the night away in style.  I bought new shoes.  Don't judge me... 

Aren't they cute?!  Damnit, ignore the black socks; it was helping me to stretch them out.  As you know, I rarely ever wear heels, so I need all the help I can get.

I was pretty much set, except I forgot to get my nails done.  I told myself all week to get them done around my job, but it was a hectic work week and when my boss offered to let me work from home Friday, I jumped at the chance.  So after I was done working at home, I decided I'd venture out into my neighborhood and try and find a salon.  Seems like a small task.  I mean there must be salons on every corner, I live in the South Bronx.  But no my dear readers, not simple at all.  See I live near a shopping area that I'd like to refer to as "The Hell Hole of The Bronx."  I swear every ghetto asshole, men and women alike, must come here for a daily "Lets fuck up someone's day" meeting.  Lord, why didn't anyone stop me.

The Salon! Entrance, right near a bus stop that was difficult to find at first, because of a crowd of people that stood in front of the area where the door was.  After saying excuse me about 4 times, they finally heard me over the screaming children and their own loud laughter.  What they were laughing at, I have no idea. Maybe they knew what was in store for me.  I finally walked into the nail salon (suggested by a friend who I will be punching in the boob later) up the stairs and through the door. Needless to say it was packed.  So I stood there waiting for someone to come up to me and ask what I was there for.  That's how most salons do it.  After 5 minutes of being ignored, I walked over to a table that had two sign in sheets on clip boards.  One for "Nails" and the other for "Mani/Pedi's".  If you're from the BX you already know what the "Nail" sign in sheet means, but for those who don't, let me explain.  If you're there to get acrylic nails, that's the one you sign up for.  And of course if you're from the BX, you know that that list is a mile long.  See in my area, playfully known as "The Ghetto", no one really ever gets just a Mani, that's more of a city thing.  Seriously, go to a Ghetto nail salon, like I did, and ask for a Mani. Then go to a Salon in the City and ask for acrylic nails.  They will both look at you like you have 8 heads.  Anyway, I signed up for a Mani/Pedi and I was lucky (so I thought) because I was the only one on that list.  I walk over and stand by a girl, who's talking on her phone. A moment later I hear her say, "Oh no, there is a roach on the wall in this salon. That is disrespectful."  It's at this moment you're saying to yourself, "And then you left right?"  No, sadly I did not.  I just moved away.  I should've run, but I didn't know where else to go and it was already 2:30.

I had finally found a seat and sat...and sat...and sat.  I waited patiently since the sign said, if you leave and your name is called, you lose your spot and would have to sign up again.  Oh but I saw interesting things while I waited.  

- A sign on the wall I tried to take a picture of (but was caught, so couldn't) that said, "We're not responsible if your child gets injury. No running. No playing on chair. This is not playground".  Yes, that's practically word for word.  

- Kids jumping on chairs next to me and parents cursing at them to "Sit the fuck down and cut the shit." Ahhh parenting, gotta love it.  One kid was crying because her brother told her that her breath stunk.  It did. I smelled as she stood crying/screaming next to me.

- My favorite moment actually had to be the woman sitting in front of me, with her large belly hanging out over her pants, asking her VIETNAMESE nail lady if she had a black belt in Karate.  

- Another girl in her leopard print pajama pants and big fluffy hair, in a color of, I guess you'd call it honey.  But it's clearly not a color found in nature.

- I noticed there were no real places to dry your nails.  You just stand in front of a window and place your hands in, what I can only describe as a hole in the wall.  I also noticed, after I did my toes, that they only had one fan on the floor, from I assume like a Home Depot type store, to dry toenails. Clearly NOT for your feet. 

- Oh and the below photo was my favorite.  I guess people have stolen in the past...

If you can't tell, the chairs are taped together!

So I was there for 45 minutes as people came in and out getting just "nails".  I noticed that one woman had been getting a pedicure since I had gotten there and assumed that must be the only mani/pedi lady.  When she was finally done I heard, whom I assume was the owner, tell the mani/pedi lady, "Oh she's getting pedicure.", but she wasn't pointing at me.  I turned my head and saw a girl getting up about to walk over to the pedi chairs and I knew she had NOT gotten there before me; hello, only person on the list, remember?  I got up and asked the lady, "Excuse me, but how does this mani/pedi list work?  Because I'm the only one on it and she came in after me."  With a roll in her eye, that I wanted to smack right out of her, she told Rosa (that's mani/pedi lady's name) that I'm really next.  FINALLY.  But as soon as Rosa started working on my feet I could just tell, she's just a pedi lady.  I asked during our session who would be doing my mani and she looked terrified and said, "Oh you get mani too?"  I said, "Yes, I signed up for both."  She looked up, again terrified, and said, "I do it."  At this point I didn't even care.

Now while I sat there, I see the girl who was going to take my spot originally, with someone else.  As I'm watching what's going on, Rosa asks if I'd like that as well, and I said no.

What is that you ask? Well it's a well known household appliance makers' new foot sander.  Huh? That well known household appliance maker doesn't make a foot sander?  No, you're kidding.  I swear I could see some of those city girls in there now, just fainting from the utter horror.  Surely this can't be real.  Well guess what folks, it is.  And before I get some Bronxite commenting about that I'm bougie and forgot where I came from, blah blah blah.  I think anyone with common sense would think that what I've mentioned is certainly GHETTO and ridiculous!

Once I was done with my crap mani/pedi, I hightailed it out of there.  I didn't take my frustration out on Rosa because she was really sweet... OH I forgot to mention how the sandblasted feet girl, really came over 5 minutes after I sat down to get my nails done and asked if I was done with the floor fan.  As I was about to say, sure (because I figured they'd dry in the amount of time it'd take her to do my nails anyway) this rude asshole just grabbed it and walked away.  Now don't tell me that's not rude or ghetto.  P.S. Sandblasted Feet Girl, I hope you enjoy the fungus you'll get from walking around in those paper slippers!

Now I know this blog is LONG but I'm not done.  I then went to see if I could find some jewelry for my NYE night.  Surely my experience in The Hub couldn't be 0 for 0.  So I went into 7 clothing stores, 2 had jewelry that was clearly for 15 year olds and 50 year olds trying to be 15 again.  Basically TACKY!  The other stores didn't even have any accessories, which I found weird because don't all clothing stores at least have one rack with some kind of jewelry?  Even Payless sells jewelry!  In one store, as I was going to leave, I said excuse me to a woman, who told me, "No!"  I'm sorry what?!  I say "excuse me", and you say "no".  Okay, so I walked by her and pushed her, and she hit one of the clothing racks and sucked her teeth.  Yes, because I'm in the wrong.  I decided at that point to just cut my loses and go home; walking.  I walked by crackheads arguing. An old man trying to pick me up.  A huge group of 13 year old girls that look older than me, yelling at the top of their lungs about God only knows what.  And a ton of people walking by bumping into me without saying excuse me or sorry or anything.  I stopped at Rite-Aid to pick up somethings and then stood in line near a man who wreaked!!!! of weed.  I'm convinced I'm still high from the contact I caught from him.  Then I picked up food for me and my sister.  While I waited for the food, there was some crazy kid in the place screaming, "I'm about to lose my mind up in here. People think I'm fuckin' playing and shit."  I really wanted to say, "Lose your mind about what? That your pants are hanging off your ass like you're letting people know you're ready for some ass sex? Or losing your mind about the fact that you're probably 16 and have 3 kids already."  I then went home and stuffed my fluffy girl face. 

So the moral of this story is, don't do your nails, shop or get food in the Ghetto unless it's absolutely necessary.  Which in my experience, will never be absolutely necessary.  Next time my sister is doing my nails, I'm wearing moms jewelry and I'm eating a PB&J.  The end. Goodnight!

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas From Mimi & I!

About to put baby Jesus in the manger...  Yea, I know, I'm super pale.  Don't judge me; it's 2:30am and I'm tired! :)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

I know it's been a while since I've blogged. Besides being busy, Blogger has been giving me some issues upon sign in. Anyway!!!!! I just wanted to take this moment to wish all the Mommy's that read my blog a Happy Mother's Day!  Mother's have one of the toughest jobs out there; one job I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for.  So to all those mother's, I'd like to thank you on behalf of everyone by saying, "You're Awesome, Wonderful & Amazing!" and "Keep up the good work."

A special thank you to my own mother who has taught me how to be strong, independent, patient, kind and honest woman.  When I think I can't do something, like even pass my drivers test (which I did last July), I look to my mother who has over come more obstacles than any person should ever be put through.  She is the epitome of what a woman with grace and beauty, in all ways, is.  I love you mother and I hope you know that you're not only my mother, you're my best friend and the reason I strive to be better in everything that I do.  Thank you for giving me life and being there for all 28 years of it.

Me & My Mother

Wordless Wednesday

Too all my catholic followers and friends, it's Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of Lent.  I've decided to give up hard alcohol - no vodka, rum, tequila, hennessy etc. I'm gonna be SO much fun at parties.  What are you giving up?

Happy Blogging All!

Photo Credit

Monday Grievances Special Edition: Valentine's Day

Photo Credit: Blingcheese.com

It's that time of year again, where Hallmark makes millions (maybe even billions) harping on the excitement and love obsession of emotionally unstable women.  Women who are using the day as an excuse to take a "break" from their diets and engorge their bellies with chocolates and heart shaped candies. *BARF*.  Its the day where flowers become a weapon in men's pursuit to get the panties.  It's the day where all out wars are broken out in Godiva stores around the nation.  Yes, my dear friends, it's Valentines Day.  That special day where men in relationships are killing themselves to find the perfect gift, the perfect restaurant and the perfect card to show their lady how special she is.  It's also that special day where women tend to make men feel like garbage because they hate that restaurant, the gift isn't a diamond and the card should've been accompanied by 12 dozen long stemmed red roses and a string quartet.  It's also the day of a lot of break ups.  And of course this fabulous day wouldn't leave out the singles!  No, of course not, see because for them its the day that hearts and the color red will haunt their daydreams, there dinners, which are normally fine, but today will feel like the loneliest one they've ever had and the day where their mom's will call them to say "I'll always be your Valentine Dear."  However on a plus side, it will clear up room at the gym to finally get that private work out in. 

I mean is it just me, or does Valentine's Day just seem to shit crap all over those not in relationships and make them feel like their some kind of Leper because on this day of all days their "ALONE".  And yes, this is all coming from someone who is currently in a relationship.   But for those who aren't, Heaven forbid you should say you're, *gasp* happy to be alone and couldn't care less.  Because of course you're just saying that and that's when your friends give you that look of sorrow and pity and say "Oh, Honey."  Umm, OK, I'm alone on a made up commercialized Holiday.  I didn't just find a lump on one of my body parts or have to put my dog down.  Relax, I'll be fine.   Why is it single people have to justify or explain how they don't care that it's Valentine's Day and they're going to stay home.  I remember when I was single, how horrible people would make me feel because I didn't have someone.  I did have someone, and that's why I'm alone now.  And lord if I had to see another Myspace or Facebook status update of how someone got engaged, I was going to have to find a bear to naw my eyes out...  Which by the way, and I'm sorry if this includes you, I think proposing on Valentine's Day (or any holiday or birthday for that matter) is the corniest thing ever.  Be original!...  For me Valentine's Day was always a day that my mom brought home some cute toy for me like an Eeyore or Pepe Le Pew stuffy and some Chocolate Covered Strawberries.  In fact my best Valentine's Day was going to Build-A-Bear with my mother and sister and then out to dinner afterwards.  And to us it wasn't about "Valentine's Day" it was just about spending time with each other.  And the teddy bear and chocolate gifts where something that my mom always did for me.  It's the same thing with Mother's & Father's Day.  I treat her like the queen she is everyday.  So why shouldn't those I love and love me treat me like they do everyday....  And don't get smart and say something about Christmas and gifts.  OK, because that's about Baby Jesus' birthday and we only celebrate birthday's once a year. :)...


Anyway where I'm really going with this blog is my worst Valentine's Day.  With the date approaching, my cousin New York Chica had asked a bunch of her friends in the blogging world to share what our greatest and lamest Valentine's Day were.  I shared my best (story above) and my worst, which you can read about if you click on her name in blue above.  But as I began to think about what the worst or lamest Valentine's Day were, I realized that that the "worst" story I gave her, wasn't it.  It was actually another, even better story. 

So here's how it went down...  An ex-boyfriend and I decided that we should try to work things out with each other after having a pretty nasty breakup.   At the time it sounded like a great idea because we had been very close and there was a friendship I stupidly thought was worth saving.   So it seemed that with all his "confusion" and "trying to find himself" that he actually seemed to try harder to make me feel special and happy.  A few days before Valentine's Day I received a bouquet of Flowers with a card reading, "I hope these flowers are as beautiful as you are.  You're the only woman that deserves these."  I thought to myself, "Wow that is so sweet."  And he knew that I wasn't a Valentine's Day fanatic, so I thought it was a beautiful gesture that he was trying to catch me off guard.  After I thanked him and we talked a little, I didn't hear from him for about a week because he said he needed to be alone to sort things out.  I thought fine and that Valentine's Day I spent it with My mom, sister and a friend and had a great time.  So now you ask, "La Latina Loquita, what's so horrible about this Valentine's day?  Sounds like a good day to us."  Yea, I thought that too.  Until some time later when I was with the piece of shit douchebag ex-boyfriend and we were talking about our relationship, or lack there of.   Since we were going to go out, he went to take a shower and I sat in his room waiting so we could finish the conversation and leave.  Now, I am not by any means a snoop, but something about this whole thing just didn't seem right.  So I started to remember why and how we had broken up originally, how he was acting on that day and his attitude.  And then I realized, "Yea, I need to go through his phone."  Not my proudest moment, but if I hadn't, I don't think I'd be where I am today (which is in an amazing place.)  So I went through his phone and lo and behold text messages to an ex-girlfriend that was not me.  As I read through some of the texts there it was, her thanking him for flowers that he had sent her for her birthday.  He texted her back with these words... "I hope these flowers are as beautiful as you are.  You're the only woman that deserves these."  My mouth dropped!  Basically the same thing he had written to me, he had written to her.  After throwing a few things around, collecting things I'd purchased for him and packing them away and then scaring the shit out of him while he was in the shower, I confronted him about the situation.  I asked him to explain himself and of course he gave me the confused "I'm not sure look".  I then plainly asked him if he had also sent her flowers on Valentine's Day and he couldn't even look me in the eye.  He finally told me he had, but it was because he felt bad because he knew no one was going to send her anything.  I have never wanted to find a sharp object quick enough to stab someone in the eye.  But I didn't.  And I didn't even take the gifts I had purchased for him throughout our relationship back.  I told him to take me home and that we were done.  That's when I once again realized Valentine's Day blows, and now I'm not too fond of birthdays either.

So Valentine's Day, my dear friends, can suck it and suck it hard!  Hallmark can keep it's cards (even though I get them for my mom and sis lol),  Restaurants can keep their ridiculously long wait times and florist can keep their roses and thorns (I'm more of a Calla Lily & Orchids girl anyway.)   If my boyfriend doesn't get me a card, or flowers or buy me chocolates, I will not have an attack.  Nor will I cry or key his car in revenge.  And knowing my boyfriend, that's a good thing, because if I was expecting all that, his car would be found in a junk yard the next day :).  I'll admit, just for the lovers of this day, that sometimes it is fun just to participate in the hoopla and joke around.  I'll eat the candy, I'll take a free rose and an e-card just for shits and giggles.  But I will not turn into some psychotic female that demands romantic gestures or it's off with his head.  If anything, I want those things everyday; throughout our entire relationship, not just on that day.  And since that ain't gonna happen, Valentine's Day would just be a lie... And it is. HA!

Happy Val... Blogging All!

P.S. I do love Hallmark.  Their Christmas Ornaments and their Hoops & Yoyo collection are THE BOMB!!! :)

***Disclaimer: All opinions existing in the above commentary are solely those of its creator.  This blog does not serve to criticize, endorse or represent any product, and merely describes an opinion and should be taken solely as such.***

Dear Cupid...

Dear Cupid,

Listen up you little fat toddler looking bastard.  I have had about enough of you.  It never fails that on every Valentine's Day, you turn otherwise normal and intelligent people into foolish, gibberish speaking, idiotic, love sick and/or depressed lunatics and I am sick of it.  I personally have been hit far to many times by your poisonous arrows and have been left with nothing more than mascara smudged eyes, a broken heart and bad credit.  Would it kill you to aim at someone that has a Mansion, tons of cash and wants to spend all their time with me?   I guess it would, because then how would you get your jollies.  I know you sit there on your little cloud just laughing away and eating tubs of ice cream and fried chicken or whatever you Cherub type(s) assholes eat.   You think you're so clever because if these "accidents" keep happening, you're sure to have a job the following year because you'll have to "fix" it.  Well let me tell you I'm done!  I'm through.  We're finished!  It would give me nothing but pure pleasure if you would take your little bow and arrows and shove them up somewhere so far that you won't be able to function for weeks...maybe even months.  Do you understand me?  Are you paying attention to what I'm saying here, you miniature monster?!  I hope you pray at night that I never find you, because when I do, I'm gonna choke you with your harp strings, ram your face in your own dirty diaper and rip your wings off feather by feather.  And while we're on the subject of attire, answer me this:  Why the hell are you flying around in diapers?  Are you really a baby?  If you are, I have a huge problem with you traveling around with weapons.  They're dangerous and so are you, and I'm not comfortable with that combination.  Secondly, if you're not a baby and are indeed some Verne Troyer look-a-like, put some clothes on.  Have you no decency?  It is in no way "cute" or "adorable" for a fat man to be flying around with no clothes on.  Have some self respect and put on a Tuxedo.  I think they look adorable on babies and/or little people.  But that's not the point!

Where did you even come from?  Did the Easter Bunny put you up to this because we keep stealing his eggs?  Well tell him to get over it.  If he weren't such a lazy jackass, he'd be quicker in picking up his stuff than we are.   But whatever it is that brought you here doesn't even matter.   All I know is that I would like you to vanish; just be gone.  Take your harp, wings and pathetic and fake notions of "love" and walk in front of moving traffic. Drink and Fly. Eat & take a dip in the pool.  Just go away.  Because you tend to think you're so cute and charming, and you're not.  You keep fooling people with all these romanticized ideas that are complete nonsense, and then we're left with the filthy blown up remains of your crafty work which leaves a stench of fear, loathing and tears in the air.  People see you and become, dare I say it, "happy" and "joyful"; but most importantly dense and forgetful!  They throw caution to the wind and ignore the fact that you mind raped them the previous year and go through the horrid process all over again.  Then 3 months from now, when they're left without love, out in the cold and eating cheesecake frosting straight from the container, they finally remember why they hate you.  You sick twisted fuck individual, are you proud of yourself?  I bet you are.  Well it's not working with me sir. No, not this year.  This year I'm out for blood, and it's either you or me chubbster.  And your chances my butterball looking friend don't look so hot this year, because I'm coming at you like a piranha in 3D!  

So Cupid, this coming Valentine's Day you stay as far away as humanly possible from me, my friends and my family.  If you come within two inches of us, I'm bringing a world of pain your way.  Understood???....  But leave the Chocolates by the door because I like sweets and well I'm greedy.

Sincerely,
La Latina Loquita

Photo Credit: Zwani.com

Tuesday Laugh Day...

So yesterday I mentioned that I was wrapping gifts trying to bring up my mood.  Well around 6 o'clock last night the final package I was waiting for (a gift for my mom) came in. I went downstairs to sign for it, and low and behold the name of the place is written all over the package! Thank God she wasn't home because she would have been super nosey trying to read it. Well my sister (who's 11) was home. I had to fly upstairs huffing and puffing before she could see it. (I ran up one flight of stairs, but I'm out of shape. Don't judge me). Of course as I'm running into my room she comes running out of hers and I had to slam my door shut and lock it....Now the last time we did this, where she was running after me, she pulled on the doorknob and actually locked me in. Why was she chasing me? Because I had a bag of Runts (you know that candy that's in the shape of banana's, apples, pears etc) my mother wanted and she wanted to steal them for her. You know, be the favorite child....Anyway I digress as usual. So I'm standing there trying to figure out where the hell to put this package. My mom won't check for it, but my sister, that kid will search the sink drain if she thinks something in there is for her. I look under the bed and already tell myself no. She'll look there, and with the dust bunnies living there, I'd be sure to have it stolen before anyone saw it. (No I'm not THAT messy, but my room collects dust quicker than a Golden Girls vagina...too much?) Then I think my closet. But me and my mother share clothes, or rather sneak into each others closet and steal clothes; I just knew that wasn't an option.  Finally I settle on the perfect space!

I have a shelf above my door. So I think PERFECT. Even I don't look up there; couldn't tell you what's up there to begin with. (Mother if you're reading this, if I so much as think you've gone up there, it's going back!) So now I need a ladder, but I figure if i so much as open my door an inch the queen brat is gonna run in. So I think simple, I'll just use my computer chair. You know the one with...THE WHEELS! Did I mention I have HARDWOOD FLOORS on top of that?! I don't know WTF I was thinking. I stand up on the chair, not to mention that I have a old mail, socks & a curtain package on the chair. And as soon as I get to stand half way I'm already rocking back and forth. I take the package from under my chin, because that's the smart way to hold it of course, and finally grab it with my hand.  I start to shove it in the shelf but something is in the way. WTF is up there? I still couldn't tell you. So, while still trying to balance myself, I move whatever is in the way with my other hand and shove the package in. At the moment of that last push I shake backwards, then forwards and then backwards again. My legs are complete Jello and all I can think is, "I'm going to die right now all from playing hide and go seek with fu*king X-mas presents & I have granny underwear on!" I made a swift decision and jumped off. Thank GOD for such a small room & such a big bed; I flew right on top of that bad boy.

So the moral of the story is. Fu*k Christmas... No I kid, I kid.  The moral is, don't be an a-hole and use your brain. Common sense says standing on a chair with wheels spells horror story. It could've been worse; especially with my luck.  Another moral, it's OK to hit children when they're pestering you. OK maybe not hit, but shove out of the way so they cry a little. Its out of love. ;)

Happy Blogging All.

Monday Blues

Its Monday December 20th, a few days before Christmas, and I've got a classic case of the BLUES.  Last night I didn't sleep a wink. I finally fell asleep at 6am today, and then woke up at 6:45, which was the time I set my alarm so I could wake up a run on the treadmill.  I also woke up with a terrible headache. Its as if my entire body just keeps going into shut down mode. Needless to say I did not make it into work.  At least twice every week for the past few weeks I have felt like complete garbage. And even though I'm going through some special circumstances at work, it really irks me to not have gone in and to let people down. So of course that just makes me feel worse. I guess a huge part of why I'm feeling down is because I'm thinking about last year and what I was doing around this time. There were people in my life back then, that are no longer around that sometimes I miss. Also around this time I was gearing up to go see one of my best friends in SA.  Now while I'm happy that those people are officially out of my life and I have more money in my pocket this year, it still saddens me. Do you ever just look back at a situation and even though there was so many bad things surrounding it, you still feel a little nostalgic? If so, you know exactly what I mean. If not, then maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment.  And while my bestest friend is coming into town this week and I get to see her, I know it's only going to be for short time.

So to try and get me out of this funk I've been trying to focus on the brighter things in my life. New friends, new boyfriend :), exciting prospects for the new year all while wrapping gifts & listening to music. And no not Christmas music, because then I'd be sure to commit suicide :). I kid I kid.  So how do you handle the blues? I'd love to hear any tips, suggestions or just random comments.

Until manana, Happy Blogging All

That's not the one I wanted.

It's Christmas morning and I'm so excited. Its one of the first years I can buy my mom something really nice & expensive (not that gifts need to be expensive but when it's your mom, you want to give her the best). So there she is opening up her gift. She sees that Burgundy box with the red ribbon & she knows that she's getting a little treat from a heavenly store called COACH. She opens it with the biggest brightest smile and I am smiling right along with her. My heart is full of joy and I'm a little in awe of my own greatness; "I made my Mother's day". She opens the box, looks at her beautiful bag and says....."Well this isn't the one I wanted." And then I die inside!...That was Christmas about 2 years ago.  Now my mom is not by any means an ungrateful person. She appreciates everything that shes given. But I guess that year (which was one of the few years she provided us with a list of things she'd like; we do that in our house to avoid confusion. Go figure) she expected something else. Now in her defense she sent me the link to the bag she wanted. But in my defense she never specified the color.

So when did Christmas become so difficult and complicated? And when did the rule become that a person needed to receive multiply gifts to feel loved?  Now in my case, I'm extremely spoiled and I love getting so many gifts; I was the only child for 16 1/2 years so I expect nothing less. HOWEVER as I'm getting older I'm noticing that we kill ourselves trying to find that perfect present to compliment our loved ones lives and it usually ends up in the back of some closet, collecting dusts and being eaten by moths. Its insane the lengths we go through for these things. Remember the year of the "Cabbage Patch"? Or the Year of the "Tickle Me Elmo"? Or even last year with those awful hamsters, the "ZuZu Pets". Which on a side note, my sister doesn't even play with anymore; and my mother bought her a huge play set to go along with about 8 of these little rats). I was looking under the couch the other day and saw one of those little bastards. I screamed bloody murder thinking it was a rat! Stupid crap...

I still believe that there is a Santa Clause. But I also believe that he looked at our lists year in and year out and said to himself "Fu*k this $h!t. These people are nuts with these asinine request. I'm out to Bermuda" and then never came back. And who can blame him. So now we struggle as Santa Clause's to our friends and family. So if you've busted your hump to find that perfect treasure, killed yourself at some mall, in some store burning up like the pits of hell on some godforsaken line, and someone dare ask for a gift receipt. Politely smile, stand up, walk over to them and punch 'em right in the throat and then simply walk away. :)

So how's your Christmas shopping coming along? Done yet? I know I'm not.