Sunday, November 28, 2004
'Tis the Season to Be Jacking
So, Mother Cognito buys a light-up wreath for the holidays. It's charming, and festive, and it only costs $20. She decides to hang it on the white fence we have at the end of the driveway; that way, while everyone who drives by our house can't see our front porch, they can see that we have some Christmas cheer.
Then somebody steals it.
It's a wreath. A fucking wreath. With Christmas lights. It costs only $20. It's not an animatronic Santa that breathes fire. It's not a robotic Rudolph that breakdances to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Trance Remix)". It's a tiny little wreath. And it got stolen.
Merry fucking Christmas, douchebag. Enjoy your stolen goods.
Then somebody steals it.
It's a wreath. A fucking wreath. With Christmas lights. It costs only $20. It's not an animatronic Santa that breathes fire. It's not a robotic Rudolph that breakdances to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Trance Remix)". It's a tiny little wreath. And it got stolen.
Merry fucking Christmas, douchebag. Enjoy your stolen goods.
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Hi Blogger, taking a little time today to see what brain wave will send me to that is interesting. 'Tis the Season to Be Jacking looks interesting and is a great read. Will also try brain wave in my e-travels. Have a super day!
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