notafinga!

so i've been called out for starting every one of my posts with the word "so", but i like it, and will continue. it helps to create a feeling of interaction and closeness with my many readers, as if we're hanging out in a bar somewhere, and i just returned from a beer run or stepped outside to pee on someone's car

...

so i'm trying to purchase a toboggan yesterday (or a beanie, for "youse guys" above the mason-dixon line), and i go to walmart. guess what: you can't buy solid color toboggans for a dollar at walmart anymore. nope, those days are over. now you have to pay ten bucks and you get to choose between big ass skulls all over it or a ridiculous starter logo. thanks walmart, you've really got a nice grasp of the fashion industry, and you're selling exactly what's hip today. and by hip, i mean incredibly uncool ... and by today, i mean 1997. nice try losers.

the reason i wanted the toboggan was to keep my ears fashionably warm during a bonfire/drink-a-thon for charity that lee mcalilly through in the highland circle park behind his house. though intentions were noble, i fear the charity actually lost money from the event, because the only people present were a bunch of broke college students who showed up for the free booze. if nothing else, it was a great excuse to see everyone, shake hands, realign with old cliques, and talk bad about others, all while acquiring frostbite on that numb yet dedicated hand selected to hold one's beer for the night.

its that time again! not for opening presents, nor singing carols, nor spending time with family, nor getting drunk and playing grabass with your second cousin under the mistletoe. nay, all of these are mere distractions from what truly matters this christmas. of course, i'm referring to the man who opened his heart to set us free; the one who so dramatically let us share his experience, so that we could grow as a people; the man who so eloquently inspired all of us to seek first all that is righteous. the reason for the season: ... ralphie parker, and his trusty peacemaker, the red ryder carbine action 200-shot range model air rifle.

the christmas story has always remained an integral part of my christmas experience, and i could french kiss ted turner and his television network for implementing what i think is the greatest thing to happen for christmas since the death of santa claus back in '89: the 24 hour christmas story marathon. it was the least mr. turner could do after involving himself with the atlanta braves, the billy baldwin of the national league. may all your christmas' be white, tnt, and may all your stockings be filled with napoleon dynamite dvd's and multiple concubines.

narrator: "only one thing in the world could've dragged me away from the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window ..."

narrator: "meanwhile, i struggled for exactly the right bb gun hint. it had to be firm, but subtle ..."
ralphie: "flick says he saw some grizzly bears near pulaski's candy store"

narrator: "we plunged into the cornucopia quivering with desire and the ecstasy of unbridled avarice."
old man parker: "didn't i get a tie this year?"

narrator: "now it was serious. a double-dog-dare! what else was there but a "triple dare ya"? and then, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple-dog-dare."
schwartz: "i triple-dog-dare you!"
narrator: "schwartz created a slight breach of etiquette by skipping the triple dare and going right for the throat!"

narrator: "with as much dignity as he could muster, the old man gathered up the sad remains of his shattered major award. later that night, alone in the backyard, he buried it next to the garage. now i could never be sure, but i thought that i heard the sound of "taps" being played ... gently."