Marching Orders

Orders have come down the pipe. A new post. Well, popular demand (one comment) has overwhelmed me. So now here I sit composing away, a single coal behind me not quite feeding, but rather teasing the appetite of the small fire gently flickering away, creating the warmth and light I use to unleash this post.

Change, it's important, ask a tadpole, ask a busker. There are many types of change, some are good, some are bad, either way they're less boring. Change puts a plot in life, change stops things from being too stagnant, unless that change is of a pool going from fresh to stagnant water. But now I'm just arguing semantics with myself. Basically my point is that instead of thinking up a post with any creative forethought I just decided to free write about the first word I heard said. That word was change. A word I hear a lot lately, in fact it was the six letters that elected a president. I just wonder if that word is more than just six letters to him and perhaps means a great deal. And if so will it all be good change or bad change? Bit of a mix? Neutral thought. Just throwing it out there. Throwing, like a deadbeat father who decides a game of catch consists of 3 full force back and forths, 9 swear words, and 1 rage blackout that ends with an overturned bbq, broken padio set and 6 dollars exchanged to make up for the 4 month gap since you two last played. See that, that's the math of family, add it up and Jim Carrey will probably knife a hooker.

I want to play a game. I'll start out and we'll see how many of you follow me all the way to the end. See what happens. Let's make it a Christmas game, seeing as how that badboy is just a calendar's leap away.

Christmas is near, you all know my thoughts on that. I love it, minus these sins <http://dayman.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-cheer-indeed.html> As far as times of the year goes, it's top notch. The family, the friends, snowman Michael Keaton, sledding until you freeze to death like casper. Good stuff the lot. So while sitting in my room and reading "The Mechanics of Chewing" by Braugdenhurd Klaust, I tried to think of a better way to make this Christmas more special and unique than the last. Themed Christmas perhaps? Nothing says happy holidays more than a pirate with eggnog, or perhaps a palm tree decorated with ankhs as you unwrap your sarcophagus full of presents, and scarabs (they always find a way in) left for you by the jackal headed Anubis Santa. Perhaps. Nothing says good times for children more than sneaking a peek to find an anthropomorphic man-wolf pouncing down your chimney brandishing sickles to eat cookies and milk. Don't scream, you'll wake the dead...or join them Anubis Santa is unpredictable like that.
Okay, so that's a big no for themed Christmas. This year I'll just stick with seeing what would happen if I was never born. That way I can run around town and violently shake people and ask them if they know me. Carolling for badasses.
Presents are also fun. I like to make mine. That way there's not only the effort involved, but the personalization...and being a starving and poor artist it doesn't hurt to spend less money gathering the elements necessary to craft a gift rather than just buying Ev the complete Grace Under Fire dvd collection. I like receiving home made trinkets. Beats anything money can buy. Except a timephone. Nothing beats punking the past with that thing, or giving Ramses some sage advice to go easy on the Hebrews. Egypt Again? Tell you what, you start your own blog and ramble aimlessly on it, then you can pick what ancient culture you refer to. Timephones make talking history fun! Think of all the time and effort you could save Moses by just going "yo, Ramses, chill out man. something tells me this just won't end well, yeah, yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah, just, you know, don't do it. Yeah, I know it's easier, yeah...listen, I understand constructing a pyramid is hard...yeah I know, I saw the dvd...yeah, it was Omar Sharif. Yeah, a real wizard at bridge. So yeah, you just cool out on that and tell Hugh Jackman I say hi. Yeah. Okay, gotta go, T Boone Pickens walked in...just joking. No Ramses, don't tip the owner of the salon. Later Gator...worshiper. sorry. bye" That was easy. Sure saved Moses trouble. Who wants to turn their walking stick into a serpent. Yeah that's cool and all, snakes are pretty scary. Showed them, thanks God, now I'll just wander through the desert for 40 years without my walking stick. Good one. That'll be real good for my old Heston hips.
Still with me?

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