Frosty the Freak Man

I know I run the risk of sounding like a big huge cranky pants with this hot on the heels of my church frenzy, but I like to live on the edge and take chances. Also, I am having my monthly healthy functioning female session which always tips the madness scale. That being said, a huge cranky pants really isn't that far off the mark. You just kick back and enjoy yourself while I froth at the mouth and long for a good solid piece of mahogany or oak that would look so much better on the adjacent wall.

I usually try to avoid watching television and if you know me, you have a good idea why. I simply can't handle television (and some movies and the occasional radio commercial or show). It sends me into fits unless it's some kind of fictional braincrack show. The television has been on a lot lately as it's getting cold and that makes people wander in it's direction. I usually happen to be hanging out in the living room doing who knows what when the screen begins it's kill Joy's brain death glow and of course I am immediately sucked right in. My ferret brain will always be drawn to shiny/flashing things. I also have the tendency to give myself way to much credit in this one area and be all oh stop it and just grow up, you can totally handle it this time. This is one of the reasons you won't find a working television in my home when I live alone. ha.

The Christmas holiday commercials are starting up and once again they are making me really unsettled. There is nothing typical when regarding any of this shit. The subliminal messages that come with Christmas overwhelm me. I cannot believe we go so far as to deceive our children with it. I stay as far away from shopping centers and even try to drive as little as possible because people go completely mental with the idea that if they move faster and more aggressively, they'll get more done instead of putting the rest of us off and look like a complete a-hole. But it's an infection that you can't just wrap up and go to wrestling anyway. Wrapping up psychosis is simply not a reality. Just ask the patients in Ward D. Here at the Pearl we have signed off the Christmas fever. I am fully willing to admit it's probably because we can barely handle the every day dementia up in here and the idea of a scheduled meeting brings us to our knees. We stopped giving gifts a couple of years ago after my bro went a little nutshit about the process and we bought it hook line and sinker. We now have what is essentially a toned down Thanksgiving. This year everyone was talking about what to do and I jumped in with "I'll get the cake" and of course I got the why a cake look so I told them it was going to read "Happy Birthday Jesus!" on it. Oh the looks! Oh the judgement! Which if you think about it, that's a mind fuck and a half. But I'm really going for it and I am getting at this place in Brookline which makes the most awesome cake you could imagine. I'd get him a gift certificate for Target or something but I have no idea what his address is. Maybe I should still get it for him and then help him spend it? Ha.

I remember being a small child who was completely horrified of the idea of Santa Clause. To me he was just some fat strange guy who dressed in a bizarre red suit and wanted to meet little boys and girls and have them sit on his lap (while his industrious 24 hour sweat shop full of little hostages was run by his enabling and equally captive wife). Then after creeping them all year and learning their habits he stealthily entered their homes to treat them accordingly. No seriously, that's some fucked up shit. Now every other day of the year that is a stranger danger stalker pedophile doing a B&E. I would always enquire how he gets into the house and when we lived in an apartment I pulled a total nutter because we didn't have a chimney and some adult guessed out loud that he had a master key to the building. You know how everyone thinks it's so cute that the kids look all tired from waiting up for Santa all night hoping to catch him? Yeah, my mother never thought it was cute with me because she knew I stayed up out of pure terror. You should see the one picture they have of me and santa in the same picture. Santa is a little red speck behind me sobbing hysterically in someone's arms. And you know what? I don't look back and go all my goodness I really should have pulled it together. I was right. Christmas is no less bizarre than that sick fuck who collects kids teeth and gets away with it by giving them money like we all have a price and they know it. Sick sick sick. I don't care what anyone says, I was way ahead of my time and all I needed was a little less holiday fear and a little more sedatives. So really, not much has changed.

Oh hey. Speaking of horrid (or totally and irrevocably awesome) filming, have you seen The Room? It's a mind bending fabulous catastrophe. Like the best car accident you have ever witnessed because there is no looking away no matter how many heads roll out of the carnage. You don't have to believe me on this one, but you could give it a try and after that, never question things like this again.