So Christmas is over. No more galas on yachts for me - I turned in me dancin' shoes ar! last night. No more fancypants ballgowns (you see, big i? Make it into 1 word like the Germans and it not only looks better - it looks more efficient too!), and definitely no more extravagant gifts of handmade parfums from France and shoes from... yeah, I don't know, I lost it back there with the 2 words fusing into 1. I have developed a nuclear fusion/fission of words, dolls! May you all bow down in front of me, as if we were on a yacht gala and I was wearing a ballgown!
Uh... anyway, Christmas is over, and I'll be damned if I say the whole thing was semi-disappointing, to say the least. So I'm damned from here on out - the whole thing was semi-disappointing. There were no chips & dip this year - and I have been craving a good chip in some good dip since I ate an entire tubby of French Onion dip for Thanksgiving (I'd probably make my mother cry if she knew why I only had 1 piece of turkey that night and maybe a bite of potatoes). Another reason for the disappointing Christmas: Whiskey night was a sham! Eliza didn't show up, and could not be recessitated through the phonelines - methinks that snatch was avoiding me & the Jameson! The big i was pronounced dead for 4 days and since has been resurrected, just like the lamb of God we ate for Christmas dinner, so he couldn't join in the festivities.... It ended up being me (not drunk) and Joe (not drunk, after 7 shots), and then Geneva (not drunk, drinking Bailey's). We all went to bed.... not drunk. Oh well, I do admire their spirits - for whiskey night will never be the same (Joe was drinking tequila for god's sake). Whiskey night is hereby retired!!!!
Another thing - I broke my hip in order to get two certain somebodies their presents and I haven't even smelled them in the past couple of days in order to give, give, give. I should have saved, saved, saved my money. If the Southern Belle does not come by soon, I am soooooo keeping her present, because goddamn, goddamn, melikes what me got her - arrr! (That's the 2nd pirate statement so far! What's happening to me?) And Eliza, if you are reading this - you needs to get your present, because I will return it and pocket the cash! Weee!
Well, as my reputation precedes me, this roustabout is turning in the keys to the inn, telling the innkeeper (did he have a name? Curtis, perhaps? Maybe... Bert?) that it was all a joke... that I rented all the rooms for the evening just to be mean.... well, there was room at the inn. There was.