One of These Years...

Bubbles is going to stop putting up with my amusement at her expense. I think she's been plotting revenge for years. Get a load of at that pissed off look on her face. But she let me get away with it

at least one more time. And despite my usual holiday gloom-- or more likely courtesy of a plane ticket that's taking me out of here very soon (thank you Warren!), or possibly just that this damn holiday is so pervasive, I find myself doing odd things. Just one example: yesterday, as I was preparing my fix of caffeine, running the coffee grinder, I realized that I was stopping and starting it to the tune of Jingle Bells. It went like this:

Grind grind grind

Grind grind grind

Grind grind

Grind grind grind.

This reminded me of the year Kat strong armed a bunch of us, present company included, into going caroling with her. I must've been on Vicodin or still drinking back then, because I went along. With us, a number of foreigners. I hung back with the Bulgarians, the Italian, and a Frenchman named Ree-shard, a man who loved me to teach him American idioms like this:

It's as hot as two rats fucking in a wool sock.

The foreigners either had a hard time keeping up with the lyric sheets (written in English) or possibly just were flummoxed by the the whole activity. All I know is, at some point Ree-shard muttered, with a perfect French sneer:

Zheeeeengle bells? What is zees Zheeeeengle bells?

Yes, Ree-shard. I wonder the same thing. Grind grind grind, y'all. And Joie Noel. I'm outta here.

Feliz ano nuevo!