Okay, so there's no way I'd really refer to Christmas as International Gift Giving Day, but it really is a shame that we, as a collective society, have managed to place such stressful, and shallow, economic pressures on the holiday season.
George and I will be packing the car up and shipping our asses back to Vegreville this afternoon, where I will then proceed to gorge myself on Christmas treats and honeyed hams - whole hams - for two consecutive days. During this time, the gang (which would include an assortment of chums and buddies) will attempt to throw together a road hockey game of monumental proportions, if for no other reason than to burn off the turkey stuffing and make way for Turtles, Toffifee, and Ferrero Roche, er, Fer...ro...F...ah, whatever. I just pretend they're little chocolate planets, while I, Unicron, greedily devour their inhabitants one morsel at a time.
I would divulge the rest of my holiday plans, but the United States of America has descended in to Yellow, no Blue, no, shit!, ORANGE ALERT, and I must observe a state of "increased awareness." I'd sure hate for some uber-Grinch terrorists to rain Anthrax down on my merry festivities.
Currently: Wondering why I didn't go to bed 7 hours previously
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