The Importance of Absurdity
Tuesday, December 24, 2002
 
Yeah, so uhhh, good night! It's Christmas! Where the stinkin crap did that come from? It's like you go to sleep in Michigan and you wake up in Oregon! I mean, holy sin! Lol, thats my new phrase. You know, kinda like a "Christmas is a diamond" and "There's no need for hell" sorta thing. Or, if you have no flipping idea what I'm talking about, ignore me. Please. Go right ahead. Now that that's over with, where was I...ahhh, Christmas. It's totally popped out of nowhere. Luckily I caught hold of it soon enough to get presents for people. In any event though, Christmas doesn't really matter. I mean, I didn't say that. Wow, I'm just not real good with this whole talking thing, am I? Christ's birth is of utmost importance. But we should be celebrating that everyday. In which case, Christmas, the holiday, itself doesn't matter. The whole presents thing...yeah, I'm not so much feeling it. I mean, yeah, it's nice. A couple more cds to add to my collection, a couple books, some cow stuff, some Duke stuff, whatever. I already got my viola anyway (but hey, that was only a half present!). Maybe this is one of those growing up things. Me and my brothers and Win (once again, my three dumb brothers united!) were all up late last night. And I dunno why, but it seems like we're all closer when we're up late. Almost like we have a secret that my 'rents don't have. I mean, I know what it is. It's called adolesence. But anyway, days were that me and Mike would get up 'round 7 or 8 and wait 'til we could open our stockings. Then we'd wake Brian, we'd all eat breakfast and then open presents. Of course, we'd first fight over who got to sit where and who got to be Santa that year (of course, everyone said it was someone different the year before!). But now, we all sleep late. 'Course, we're up 'til 2 or so, but still (my 'rents used to wait 'til we were in bed to fill our stockings, now they just wait 'til early the next morning!). When my mom informed us that she'll wake us at 10, we all groaned. Now, we all trudge down the stairs, open our stockings and try our best to stay awake through breakfast. We'll all flop down on the couch or chair or floor, whichever finds us first, and insist that we were Santa last year, so it must be Brian's turn (he was always the one doing it anyway!). Anyway, not that this has much of anything to do with anything (like most everything that escapes from my mouth)�