All those bad rumors about the internet rolled into one unatractive, easy to navigate, fast loading, poorley spelled site.
Instead of a festive warm fammily situation which decorating shoud be, Granfather was angrilly barking commands at me to "PUT THET UGLY-ASS OL' FAKE TREE TOGETHOR!" as well as, "HANG UP THET THAR TINSEL!."
And also, "LINE THEM PLASTIC WISE MEN UP, MILITARY STYLE!"
I was in Robinson's Departmant store in California when i was 5 where you line up in one of those endless curling lines with 20 switchbacks to sit on Santa's lap. I remembor screamin my friggin head off so loud on the line that a cop came over.
When we got up to the front my brothor and mom had to hold my legs and do you know when you are crying so bad all you do is hyperventillate so you cant scream? Well thats how I was and when Saint Nick had me squirming and shuddering in his arms and asked me "Ho Ho Ho, What do YO-O-OU want for Chrismas, little boy?" i begged him that Alls I Want For Christmas was for them to take me away and put me in fostor care so i woudnt haveto sit on Santas danm lap no more.
So there you have it. I dont hate Santa Cluas, but I do not like him. And now, they have all these new skinny Santa Claus statues in all the stores where Santa is very sad and ellongated way the hell out of shape. In our house all that means is more space for more Santas. Granfather keeps getting them because he knows i hate santa.
We have a resin one wherre it is actualy only an inch thick but is like 20 inches high. The infleunce of Calvin Kline is greator in our cultore than we want to admit.
Plus the cieling of our trailor is only six foot six so insted of placing it in a stand we crimp it into place on the cieling by mashing the top six inches of the tree into the airvent and folding ovor the top.
The tree is atached to the cieling and dosent even touch the floor, which isnt so bad, ecxept whenever you open the door, the bottom of the tree, (which is suspended 2 inches off the floor) swings and sways usualy knockin over one of the Wise Men. We used to anchor the base of the tree to the floor with this heavey circulor Christmas fruitcake in a bundt shape that had written on it:
SEN. LLOYD BENTSEN
"BOY THET OL' WOODY ALLEN IS STUPID," he said.
"AS IF HE DIDN'T THINK MIA WUZ BITCHY ENOUGH AT HIM, NOW HE UP AN' MAKES HER HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW, FER GARSHSAKES."
The thing that ended the meal (by his tippin ovor my TV tray, and his too, in angor), was the story abuot how Melrose Place treated that poor Hunter Tylo, by firing her for being pregnant.
"HOW DARE THEY EXPLOIT HER WITH PREGNENCY DESCRIMINATION!" Granfather hollered. "SHE GOT A RIGHT TO BE A HALF-NEKKID AIRHEAD BIMBO WITH DIGNITY LIKE THE REST O'THEM!"
Well, I used to write these long emotionnol letters to her, and my current counselor said that I am NOT suposed to be doing that. But we did discuss my sending her a Christmas card.
We descided that this woud be OK, but as long as it was not an emotionol 'mash note.' It had to be a curt yet freindly Christmas card where the only thing i did was sign my name, (and also, Granfather and my folks' name coud be on it too, because they also know her.)
Well, the bad thing i did was that just beffore i mailed it, on the bottom of the card i wrote in very big lettors I LOVE YOU.
That night dad and my stepmom called me from California (again) becuase they found out about it. They were very stern with me and I started begging them to please let me come to see them for Christmas and they said NO we dont have money to fly you in, and reittorated that I must stay in Texas here with Granfather. And GET OVER my former counselor. She is 14 years oldor than me and not interested and they said I haveto get the point. I went into my room an put my head in my pillow and creid for a long time. I think i fell asleep.
Soon i smelt somthing rancid. I turned arround and saw that Granfather was at thedoor of my room, his evil head pokking up from the tub and reptillian yellow eyes staring silently at me from ovor the rim.
"KNOW WHUT, BOY?" he said to me. But i coudnt pay atention because i was lookin at somthing behind him. My eyes were clouded with tears but treid to focus on this thing on the wall of the hallway. It looked like it coud be a large roach or giant black slug. El Nino was makkin it quite rainy at times and i probly figoured it was a slug making an idle, laggard sliding descent down the formica wall. I got a tissue to get it off. Meanwhile Granfather kept sayin, "KNOW WHUT, BOY? KNOW WHUT?"
"DUE TO THE UNIQUE ANGLE AT WHICH I AM POSITIONED AGIANST THE FLUTED EDGES O'THIS HERE DRAIN HOLE," Granfather pedantically explianed in his dellicate erudite Masterpeice Theator voice that he does on purpose to piss me off, "NOTICE HOW UPON RELEASE, EACH SEGMENT MAINTAINS THE EXACT SHAPE AND GROOVED SURFACE PATTERN O'THEM FANCY LIL' BELGIAN SEASHELL CHOCOLATES."
"STUPID, SENSITIVE STOMACHAD BOY," he tauntad me while I talked on that big white porcelein phone.