¡C*ño! ¡Qué frío hace en las mañanas! Yo siempre sé cuando las Navidades están aquí porque le rayo las puertas de los carros de la gente con mis tetillas que se ponen más duras que una piedra. Esto significa que es hora de que la gente en Florida saque la ropa de invierno, que es básicamente ponerse medias antes de ponerse las sandalias.
Y encima de eso, ya tenía que sobrevivir otro día de acción de gracias, lo cual es tácitamente la oportunidad de sobre comer con gente que has hablado nada más por el Facebook el año entero. Ni cociné este año porque ya acepté que hay cosas que no puedo fingir como cocinar o pretender que me encanta ver las fotos tuyas de Instagram de todo lo que te comes.
La última vez que intenté cocinar lo que hice fue levantar a un espíritu maligno. Me tomó cuatro despojos. Es que me encuentro las instrucciones de cocinar tan complicadas. Paso Uno: limpiar el sucio y las telas de araña del libro de cocina que ni siquiera sabías tenías en tu casa. Paso Dos: comprar especias caras que nada más vas a usar para esta receta y nunca jamás. Paso Tres: guarda toda la comida que sobró en cajitas nombradas así… “sobras de pavo”…”más sobras de pavo”…”vas a comer pavo por un año”…”Pavo por siempre”.
Después viene la venta del madrugador. Si fuese un psicópata huérfano y sin amigos, las Navidades no afectaría mi cartera y tendría suficiente dinero para comprarme un yacusi lleno de strippers y barras de oro. Lo conozco mucha gente y la única forma de decirle al mundo lo mucho que lo aprecias es yéndote en bancarrota. Y eso que no tengo hijos. ¿Te imaginas? “Carlitos, espero te gusten los juguetes que te compramos. Tuvimos que vender a tu hermanito y ya no tenemos dinero ni para comer así que hoy cocinamos al perro”.
Bueno, espero pasen unas felices Navidades. Yo estoy loco por ver a mi familia otra vez y despedirme de otro año esperando que el próximo me traiga mucha felicidad y que todos también les traiga paz, amor y éxito… Y un yacusi lleno de strippers y barras de oro.
Feliz navidad y les deseo mucha prosperidad!
Man, it’s getting cold in the mornings! I can tell the Holidays are almost here because I accidentally keyed a car with my nipples. I guess this is the time for those of us who call Florida home to take out our winter clothing (i.e. wear a pair of socks with your sandals).
I have already had to endure another Thanksgiving, which is basically an excuse to over-eat in the company of people you’ve only Facebooked all year long. I didn´t even attempt to cook this year, I finally accepted the fact that there are things I am just not good at: like cooking and pretending I give a s**t about your f**ing Instagram photos of every food you are about to stuff your face with. Last time I tried to cook something; I ended up summoning a demon by mistake. My body became its host for a whole month and made me do all kinds of horrible things! I double-parked, passed gas inside enclosed spaces I shared with others and masturbated to Kim Kardashian’s soul-reaping naked pictures. just ended up doing what I always do whenever I try cooking something, just bring a dish from the nearest Chinese restaurant like Diarrhea Dragon and call it a day.
I just find cooking instructions so complicated. First of all, I’ll have to muster the strength to go out there and buy expensive spices which I will only use for that particular recipe right after blowing off the dust and spider webs from that cookbook I’ve always had, but didn’t know I’ve always had. Then it’s a cup of this and a tablespoon of that only to end up making something that looks more like a hot, angry, hairless mutant possum with a taste that more closely resembles Poseidon’s salty butthole than a delicious turkey. Then you end up with dozens of plastic containers with Thanksgiving food that will sure last you for all eternity. I always label them as follows… “turkey leftovers”… “more leftovers”… “even more”… “you’re gonna be eating turkey for a year”… and “turkey forever” in that order.
Then came Black Friday… If I was a single sociopathic orphan with no friends, the holidays would not affect my wallet in the least, leaving me enough money to afford a hot tub filled with prostitutes and gold. Sadly, I am not, therefore I have to buy everyone and their mother a present. My bankruptcy status and foreclosure on the house is an extension of my love for all the people I know. And I don’t even have kids! Can you imagine if I did?! “Hey, Timmy…enjoy the toys, little guy. I sold your brother into slavery to pay for them. Oh, and we can’t afford food anymore so we are having the cat for dinner”.
Well, I hope the previous experiences described on here do not ruin the rest of the Holiday season because I am looking forward to seeing my family and saying farewell to yet another year in hopes that the New Year brings us all peace, love, success and a hot tub filled with prostitutes and gold. I’m not greedy. I’ll be happy with just the gold…or the prostitutes…or just the tub…But I don’t need water in it because, you know…I’m not greedy. However, if it’s filled with chocolate pudding, I’ll be happy… Lost my train of thought. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m addicted to heroin and puppies are so adorable because 2+2 equals purple bracelets. Damn! I didn’t lose my train of thought. That train crashed in the middle of nowhere killing all its passengers instantly!
Oh well…
Enjoy the Holidays!
