MERRY CHRISTMAS !!!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

Three Days to Christmas!!

Egg Nog Compatible

Five Days To Christmas!!

"Merry Christmas, Good Looking."

"So this is Christmas
and what have you done
another year over
a new one just begun

and so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
the near and the dear ones
the old and the young

a very Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year
let's hope it's a good one
without any fear

and so this is Christmas
for weak and for strong (...if you want it)
the rich and the poor ones
the road is so long

and so happy Christmas
for black and for white
for the yellow and red one
slet's stop all the fight

a very Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year
lets hope it's a good one
without any fear


so this is Christmas
and what have you done"

-John Lenon

fire 12/15/05
damages: Everything!

Get Ready, It Is Coming

Today starts the random Christmas pictures. So, you are going to have to periodically check the site because my pictures rock (well, they rock in a kinda scary, guard the kids kinda way). Enough of that, now to the meat and potatoes.

Yesterday some one posed the question to me, "what traditions do you have for Christmas?" I easily rattled off things like, Christmas Eve with the cousins, Cliff house biscuits on Christmas morning, Santy Clause, and etc. There was a brief discussion amongst us sharing ideas and funny stories. Then the question, "What traditions do you have for the Birth of Christ?" That one hit me like a ton of bricks. My mind raced trying to find a definitive answer that didn't leave me looking or feeling shallow. The best I could come up with was the nifty advent calendars we use to read every night before going to bed. You know, the ones with the little windows and the "divine" chocolate you get, marking the victory of patiently, and some times not so patiently, sitting through the story. But, that happened years ago...like ten years ago. Then I realized I didn't have any real traditions or special methods of bring Christ into the world. Of course there are the services and carols and other highly marketed Christmas musts, but personally there is nothing. So much of the month is focused on year-end quotas, dodging Christmas Crazies (as I have deemed them) while shopping, and finding that one perfect gift for the twenty some odd people on my list. But, were does that leave the birth of the Messiah? Trying smiling after figuring that out.

I am not saying I am completely void of spirituality around this time of year. Far from it, in fact. But there is not that one thing I long to do or wait for... Right now I am listening to the KLOVE radio station on-line. They are playing Heart of Worship. One of may favorites. The verse goes "I am coming back to the Heart of Worship and it is all about you, it's all about you Jesus. I'm sorry Lord for the thing I've made, cause it's all about You." Talk about perfect timing, or God's presence in your life even when you don't know it. Wrapped in that blanket of Love and Grace. Man it's amazing. I have to listen to the end of the song... Wow, awesome...Time to make a change.

So, I shout it now from the mountain top, or the Top of my office chair...Family beware, this year I am introducing a Christ centered tradition for years to come. Now I don't know what it is going to be just yet, mostly because I just sat down today and started typing, but I will have one, and next year I am going to add another one. Eventually buying presents, work, and the Christmas Crazies will only be a by product of the Coming Of Christ, God the Son, the Messiah. Oh, yeah.


Now, I leave you with the First Wish of a Happy Christmas, from Mine/Me, to Yours: I call this Home Cooking.

"It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year"

I have learned the much needed lesson of retail suicide. What in world is he talking about you might ask, (and if you don't ask that, then don't read, go to the website for the criminally boring)? Retail Suicide is what I call it when you decide to abandon the "mom and pop" stores and shop only at the Megga-Bigg-One Stop shops. But this suicide is not year round, it only starts after a certain point in the year. Christmas is what you are thinking, right? Nope much earlier than that. It begins when the first Christmas decorations, knick-knacks, and Crap hits the shelf. And this year the winner is Big Lots, with Christmas on aisle three in the middle of October. Yeah, I know it's now Dec and I am just now calling the Lots out on it, but I have been busy, and truthfully we know the "real" cluster starts the weekend before Thanksgiving. But October, I mean damn, what about, Oh I don't know, Halloween, All saints Day, veteran's Day, Thanksgiving, not to mention numerous other bank and foreign holidays? What I want to see is merchandising push for Boxing Day, or Rashasona (cause that's fun to say), or the Revolution Anniversary (Nov 20th in case you didn't know). I could sport a t-shirt saying "Down with Tea leaves Up with south of the border imported beans that determine if people have a good day or not." I mean, that's a catchy slogan. Imagine it in green or light blue or better yet, in Cream...Get it Cream? That's what I want to see. Not that I am anti Christmas. By no means is that the truth. I just don't remember a Season When I have been so busy, it is about to drive me MADDD! But I digress.

Retail Suicide. Let me play it out for you. Now part of the Retail Suicide (RS) is my own fault, and I know this, admit it, and think about changing it, but it is so much easier to complain. My first mistake happened on November 23rd. I, forgetting the next day was Thanksgiving, went to work out around 4pm. During my run I thought about what most people do when they are exercising...eating, namely what's for dinner. Well I was having a Martha Stewart moment and wanted to make a casserole with some left overs, but realized I was one ingredient short. So when they kicked me out of the gym, at 5pm, I thought I would just swing by and pick up that one item on my way home. Sweaty, cold, and in a hungry rush, I went to Brookshires. After I dodged three old ladies with full carts and two three year olds with candy induced foaming of the mouth I realized I was at a super market the night before Thanksgiving, after work had left out. My first response was, What a Dumb Butt am I, my second thought was, I really look like crap. As I winded my way from aisle to aisle, mad that I was going to have to stand in line for one item, I vowed I was not going to make that mistake again, but...

Tonight I decided to go the epitome of Cramped, bustling, Mega centers. The Tas Mahaj of retail. That's right Wal Mart. At five o'clock I hit the road to get groceries, because the are cheap and I want to spend my money on your Christmas presents. Boy, brains and timing are not my friend this time of year. Busy, yes, loud, yes, obnoxious, yes, border line ridiculous, no full out ridiculous. Fortunately I keep a well detailed layout of Walmart in my glove compartment. I know which aisles to stop at, which ones to avoid and which ones it is best to park the cart and maneuver around the people. I was able to fight in and out of there in about 45 minutes. This was only due to the fact I caught a check out line as it was opening. But, seriously, screaming kids, ugly women, men in suits fresh from work hitting on soccer moms in there work out clothes, how awful is that. It makes my skin crawl to think of all the time wasted in that Labyrinth of commerce. Maybe it's my man brain but when I go in there I not there to dally. I get in, get what I need, and get the H-E-Double hockey sticks outta there. So do as I say, not as I do, order everything you need online, have them deliver, it will be much easier on your mind and soul. Just a friendly little PSA from you neighborhood neurotic.

David's Christmas Extravaganza

By the way, In case you are worried about the double purchasing of my Christmas presents via the wish list. I have decided to appoint a liason to keep track of all of your Holiday giving. Yeah, I know I am an obnoxious twit, but I don't care.

The List Liason is Sheila McCormick, the best lady ever, and her number is (318) 925-8628. Call her with purchased items and any questions. Thanks and Holly jolly yadda yadda.

Mississippi Mud, Star Pop, Pot, Crack, Meth,...

So, I think the ice cream man in our neighborhood is actually a drug dealer. Why you might ask? Well, Today at 4:45 and 60 degrees I heard the at first fun, then very very very annoying canned music of "Pop Goes the Weasel" (which I kid you not, the dog across the street actually howled, like on the cartoons, at the sound of this song). This can only mean one thing, the ice cream man is coming.

Now, no matter how old I get, when I hear that song I am instantly transported to back 1992. Sweat pouring from my face as I was usually running the sun baked streets with no supervision. My first summers of freedom and my daily snow cone. I would always ask the balding, mustached icecream man for a green snow cone with lots of juice. His response was always "Here's one to give you a heart attack," or "This will make you a diabetic." Words which ring truth now, but at 12, merely greek. But with a smiling face and sticky hands I would exchange my measly dollar pilfered from my mom's purse and would continue the afternoon with an occasional brain freeze and charging sugar high. But at the first hint of sub-85 weather the ice cream man would disappear like free beer at a Fraternity party. Hidden away unit the sun returned to beat down on us again.

Now that I am 26 I have traded in my green snow cone for Ultra Light Beer and my sun baked pavement for the gym track, but the song rings true even now. So imagine my surprise when I meet the ice cream man of today. The first time I heard the melodious chorus, I dug through my worn wallet and found an extra dollar. Impatiently waiting for him to finish with the kids down the street, I waited at the end of my drive. What am I going to get? What will a dollar buy now? I hope he has snow cones. These were the thoughts running through my head. But when he pulled up and I noticed enough gold in his mouth for fort knoxx to be jealous, my childhood memories were replaced with my limited street smarts. I should have figured it out when I learned over half of the items he had pictured on his truck were "sold out," but I guess my naivete took over. I settled for a plain ice cream sandwich, that was gone by the time I entered my home. I thought noting of it, until November of last year hit. I was sitting in my home, working, as per usual, when I heard the song again. I was quite perplexed as I was wearing a long sleeve shirt and socks, but the cold climate apparently did not surpress this entrepreneurs inner drive. Then as the next few weeks and month rolled on, I realized I was hearing the Ice Cream man more in January and Feb than in the typical summer months. Then discussing this with my neighbor it all fell into place. What a great convenient way to sell drugs. You have the cleaver rouse of the Mr. Rogers type, only out to "make the kiddies happy." But, really your have your own drug delivery route. As a business plan I find it quite ingenious, as a human being and a resident, I wonder how founded my theories are and what I should do about it. I could be wrong, but the pieces are there...More trips during colder months then hot, always out of a majority of the popular goodies, stereotypical (very) idea of your friendly, neighborhood drug dealer. Yeah, I think I am on to something here. What's next, a prostitution ring masked as a paper route. Is there no more decency left. Damn you Britney Spears

Next week I will be dissecting on how my local bar is really a Mafia front. Stay tuned.

Check Out My Christmas Wish List, Located Under Links

Watch for Periodic Updates!!

Underwear, Cops, and Jesus, is there nothing I won't talk about?

I thought I was busy when I was in Baton Rouge. Boy was I stupid! It seems that since I am not home, I am doing more than I knew I could. I am battling with those seemingly endless hurricane claims, in my normal area, and then there is the squeezing in of everything else I normally do, and even some things I don't. Tonight has actually been the first night have been home, and stayed home, before 8pm. I made dinner for myself, in my own kitchen (bite my butt take out), and have been able to do things I need to do. For example, I washed clothes (I was almost to the point of turning them inside out, or just going commando...gross I know you wanted that mental image). updated my blog...as you can plainly see, and now I am going to put in a movie and update some of my personal financial information. Man the life of a "grown up" is a riot. I am actually extremely happy about it though, weird, maybe, but I can live with your jeers and snickers behind my back.

Sunday night I came home to an empty home, which is not a problem at all, but something was a miss. I went to open the door only to find it ajar already. I didn't get upset, or scared, or nervous. I simple had a conversation in my brain. I did what you might consider a Cost Benefit analysis. Did I go in the dark, scarey home and yell for whom ever the hell was in there to get out and then maybe get shot? No. Do I run into my bedroom strap on my iron and do a military sweep of the home shouting clear in every room I check out and still maybe get shot? Tempting and maybe fun, but No. Do I cautiously walk away, call both roommates to only find out they have not been to the home for hours and hour, then call the cops? Yes, that's the ticket to stay off the Darwin award recipient list. I have to say I was impress. I did not call 911, but merely called the station, a number I have on speed dial. I gave my information and what I was wearing and then the nice lady on the other end said someone would be over. Now, I have heard the stories about the cops taking their sweet time to get to places, so I sat in my neighbor's front yard and watched and waited. To my surprise within three minutes three cars stealthily pulled on to my street. Hands on their holsters and flashlights at the ready, they surrounded the house and began to look for the perp (isn't cop jargon fun). Within five minutes of my call a K-9 cop and doggie arrived. They went through the house and found...nothing. Apparently one of us, Not Me, left the door slightly opened when they left earlier that day. Thankfully nothing was missing and nothing was out of place. The neighbor came out and I had the auspicious duty of explaining to them I am a whinny baby and I was afraid to go into my dark house alone. Not really, I figured it was better to call them and be better to be safe than sorry, cause I don't like to apologize. But it proved to be a little excitement to round out the night. Never a dull moment a the "youth hostel" (which is the current name of the house, careful, it can change without warning and when you call it the YH, I will have to reply with "Uh, that was sooo last winter." and you don't want me to bust you down like that. Oh, by the way I heard my mother say to some 0ne the other day "you just dissed my son." Now I am honored she would stand up for me when someone was frontin my like that, cause I don't like peeps up in my Kool Aid, but I don't use that term and to hear a 50+ woman say that makes me laugh).

So it's not easy to pour out the past few days into one post, but I have managed to hit the high points. Oh, I had a buddy of mine call me today to ask me who Jesus is to me. I love that. I am not the type of person to proactively evangilize to the masses. I try to lean to the more suttle methods of spreading the love, but when some one asks me, beware of the flood gates. I hope I helped him out, but even still to know I tried makes me feel good. Have a great night folks.