Friday Fiver: New Year, New You?

Hello, boys and girls! This is your old pal Stinky Wizzleteats here! This is a post about a whale. No! This is a post about the Friday Fiver. For those of you not in the know, the Friday Fiver is sort of a little blog game. Each Friday a list of 5 (with me so far?) questions appears at the Friday Fiver website, and many bloggers the world over answer the questions on their blogs. Comments from non-Spam-excreting entities is generally encouraged, and I should have the word verification system active by the time you read this (unless you're a real hawk). Some would say it's the blogging equivilant of chain letters or those "tests" grade-school girls like to pass back and forth in utmost secrecy. I look at it as one day in every seven where I don't have to think up a topic to blog about. And since it's my blog, if I encounter a question I don't want to answer it's wholly appropriate for me to say, "That's a stupid fucking question and I'm not going to answer it." So, without further exposition, here is my first contribution to the Friday Fiver...

1. How will you be ringing in the New Year?
As it stands right now the kids will be at their Grandmother's and my wife will be working, so I most likely will be ringing in the New Year alone. I plan to put myself in an easily recreatable mood and become distracted by computery goodness involving pretty graphics and bloodshed. Maybe look for that Britney Spears sex tape. (Note to aspiring celebrity pornographers: no Nightvision! You can afford lamps.) Actually, I'm downloading the AMD64 build of Ubuntu Linux right now, so I might ignore the ball dropping by geeking out with some open source 64-bit dual-boot craziness. Let's roll. Let's boogaloo 'til we puke.

2. How do you *wish* you were ringing in the New Year?
By letting Dick Clark know that Payola is neither gone nor forgotten. That may seem pretty harsh, considering what poor health he's reported to be in, but let's see what you think when Dick Clark eats your family to sustain himself through another 364-day hibernation cycle.

3. Do you have any traditions that you observe on New Year's Day intended to bring you luck for the upcoming year?
Huh? What are you saying? I've never even heard of that freakishly superstitious rite before! Seriously, that's a stupid fucking question and I'm not going to answer it.

4. Do you make resolutions? Do you keep them?
Here we go. First week and already they're trying to slip 6 questions in while my back's turned. They wouldn't do it out in the open because then they'd have to delay the game by at least a day to re-establish a rhyme scheme. But just to play along: no, and see previous "no" and shut up. I don't because I don't, you get me? Nobody does. If you could flip a switch and start improving something about yourself you find lacking you'd have done it already. Don't put all that pressure on January--it's a terrible time of the year for motivation. Yeah, this time I'm really gonna start exercising and stick to it...by walking in January! That might work fine in Florida, but I live in Vermont, where January is typified by epic snowstorms, glare ice, black ice, and wind chill factors that can change your sex. New Year's resolutions don't work here because it's too cold.

5. Would you ever have plastic surgery?
Only if I made a New Year's resolution never to do it. Hahaha. That's the only kind of New Year's resolution that works; you know, something that's so easy it's downright self-fulfilling, like, "I resolve, in 2006, to drink at least one shot of vodka, similar if not identical to the one I happen to be holding in my hand right now. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRRR!!!" Seriously, though, where the fuck does this topic connect with the new year? Is New Year's Eve such a limiting topic that only four quality(?) questions could be wrung from it? These people aren't even trying. I think next Friday I'll come up with my own questions and answer them, unless I get distracted by doing other things that day, in which case I'll probably just do the Friday Five. In fact...in 2006 I resolve to at least consider answering another Friday Five while possibly pondering writing my own questions, or not. But back to the topic at hand, plastic surgery, I don't think I'd ever do it for mundane cosmetic reasons, like getting rid of a turkey waddle or fixing a profile that invokes the flight-or-fight response in rodents. I'd do it if I were horribly maimed and required reconstructive surgery or I'd never be able to sing "She Sells Sanctuary" again. Say, as a totally hypothetical example, if I were walking down a certain street in Montpelier at the wrong time and an avalanche of car-sized boulders rained down upon my face and relocated most of it behind my ears and I figured I really had the city's nuts in a Salad Shooter and could get them to pay for an operation that would make me look suspiciously like Tony Danza, I'd probably do it.

It's the most wonderful time of the year, fuckface!

I love Christmas. Really, I do. Ask anyone, they'll tell ya. Ask elves, even. They know the score. I love Christmas. You get some pretty interesting responses when you state so forcefully in a crowded public space in June, but the fact that I know that just goes to prove my point. I love Christmas. I place absolutely no religious significance on the holiday, and now that I'm an adult who pretty much buys his own toys throughout the year it's not really about what I get anymore, either. I'm all for the "good will toward men" bit though. I even ignore the antiquated phrasing and extend my good will toward women, domesticated animals, and even that oft-hated demi-class of person: the anonymous driver. Yes, even when I'm trying to park at a WalMart in December I feel an elevated level of good cheer coursing through my body (and hopefully not emerging in any embarassing fashion).

I finished my holiday shopping (at least all the shopping I have to do before the 25th) last weekend with a trip to the big city of Burlington and the shopping communities attended thereto. I'm very happy to say that I did most of this year's shopping online and only had to endure one brick and mortar excursion during the rush season kicked off by Black Friday. I'm also happy to report that I remained in good cheer throughout. Even when I had to circle a parking lot 5 times to find a space. Even when I had to go to three separate stores to look for one item. Even though it's apparently impossible to buy a copy of "A Christmas Story" on DVD in central Vermont during this time of year. (This just off the Associated Press wire: Sales of Christmas-themed movies skyrocket unexpectedly during the month of December. Merchants caught totally off guard. More details after this important message from Sprunt feminine products.) Yes, I'm proud to say I remained in good cheer throughout the whole long slow experience.

BUT...

Just because I remained in good cheer doesn't mean I didn't roll my eyes upward and silently exclaim, "You fucking idiot," a few times. I did, and I'll tell you why. The shopping experience was much milder than I expected. This close to Christmas I fully expected to see some small-arms fire and at least one grown adult reduced to tears. I didn't. I didn't even see two mothers fighting over the last available Wendie Whoopsie doll, the hot new toy that spits up when shaken vigorously. (Okay, I made that up. Use of this post as a shopping guide may compromise your sanity.) However, in each store I went to I wound up hearing the same brain-dead complaint from at least five of my fellow shoppers: "There's so many people!" This is what I didn't say to anyone who made that complaint:

You fucking idiot. We're two weeks and one day away from Christmas, and you're standing in a huge store in the largest shopping area in the state of Vermont. Are you aware that other people celebrate Christmas too, not just your family? Do you think you're the only person in the world trying to buy an Xbox 360 and a Hillary Duff CD in mid-December? Are you that original? Do you find yourself distracted by a vague echoing sound when you're all alone? Do you know who the President of the United States is, and are you by chance related to him by blood? I'm going to move this flashlight back and forth, and I want you to follow it with your eyes.

Just had to get that off my chest. Have a very merry Christmas, everyone! Just don't forget to fortify yourself for the mall-zombie apocalypse. Like Kevin McCarthy warned, "You're next!!"

"Santa's elves know your kids haven't been good this year. Fuck your kids, and fuck you too! This movie has been rated G."
--Crotchduster, "Crotchopus"

Say hello to...Ruby!

In the interest of journalistic integrity I have to post a correction to my previous post. (Those responsible for sacking those responsible for the previous post, have been sacked.) When we took Duke for his first vet appointment we got a surprise: Duke is a girl! So Duke isn't Duke anymore. Duke is Ruby.

Say it with me: Ru-by!

I blame myself for the misunderstanding. I saw a dangly thing and made the obvious assumption. For the record, I'd like to take this opportunity to express my pride in never being on the wrong side of that particular judgement call in my dating years. I'm sure Thompson knew right away, but he's a dog and that's the first place he put his nose when we brought her home. That's probably why he's never been defensive with her. He seems to enjoy having a little sister (and I mean little--he can fit her entire head in his mouth!), and she absolutely adores him, if you can call biting his ears adoration.

So it's a girl! Somebody change the color of that order of bublegum cigars.

He is a boy, you are a girl
And it will always be that way
But there are people in this world
Who'd like to change what nature made
And if you take that decision,
Than they will make an incision...
Down below!
--David Byrne, "Now I'm Your Mom"