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11 December 2010
No. 3,788 (cartoon)
I want to marry you.
I want to bury you.
12 December 2010
Bonnie’s Fabulous Faux Snow
I loathe everything about the alleged holiday season except for one thing: Bonnie’s annual party. It’s a delightful celebration of excess, and I was glad to join in the bacchanalia and debauchery. As everyone knows, nothing succeeds like excess, and Bonnie’s peerless at that sort of thing.
She had a couple of bars, a couple of buffets, a good band on the fourth floor of her pleasure palace, and a lackluster band in the basement, thus accommodating everyone’s tastes.
I spent a lot of time drinking on the balcony, enjoying the faux snow generated by a faux snow machine. I was impressed that the small clusters of soap bubbles resembled real snow (after a few glasses of wine), something I’ve never seen in San Francisco.
Devorah, however, found the display disappointing. She claimed she’d recently been to a party where the host used cocaine for artificial snow. That may or may not be true, but that’s irrelevant. I never take people on drugs seriously.
13 December 2010
Goodheartedly Greasy Sandwiches
Luka’s encouraging Niklas to ignore his doctor’s advice and enjoy a grilled pastrami and cheese sandwich. Niklas reiterated his concern that he was already susceptible to heart disease.
“The last thing you need to do is worry about your heart,” Luka insisted. “It will serve you well for as long as you live.”
Niklas eventually accepted Luka’s spurious argument. (Or did he?) And no one can deny all the evidence indicating that they both enjoyed their greasy sandwiches goodheartedly.
14 December 2010
Not Arguing With Susan
Susan and I reached an impasse on her project, but it didn’t last long.
“Why argue?” she asked. “You’re just going to agree with me later.”
It was her endeavor, so she was right. We completed our work without any significant disagreements, and she made us a fine dinner. This was one of those occasions when it paid to be passive.
15 December 2010
Waking Up Brain Cells
I liked Christmas when I was a child; that was the only time of the year for a major acquisition such as a bicycle or a model train set. My loyalties can be bought, and were.
My arrangement with Christmas broke down when I became a financially self-sufficient teenager. Suffering through the wretched ordeal just to get another unwanted sweater was no longer an appealing proposition.
If Dr. Seuss née Theodore Geisel was still around, I’d commission him to rewrite How the Grinch Stole Christmas! In the original version, the simple village idiots convince the curmudgeonly grinch to embrace the Christmas poppycock. In my version, Dr. Seuss would have the grinch persuade said village idiots to jail Santa Claus and barbecue his tasty reindeer.
I think Dr. Seuss would have accepted my proposal. After all, it was he who said, “I like nonsense. It wakes up the brain cells.” I’ll never know with certainty, though, because of this inconvenient fact: Geisel died last year.
Dang, dang, dang, and dang again.
16 December 2010
I’m Gone Like Fashion
I was at Lily’s place when I spotted a great headline: “I’m gone like fashion.” It reminded me of Jean Cocteau’s dictum, “Fashion is everything that goes out of fashion.”
I finally noticed that I imagined what I read. The actual words on the page read, “... and I’m gonna. I like fashion.”
I thought I was stealing “I’m gone like fashion,” but instead I actually created it. Unless I didn’t.
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©2010 David Glenn Rinehart