I marvel at the little food processor I got for Christmas. He’s just a little guy – but when I put stuff in him, he rumbles and whirrs, and then it’s all done! He even grinds his own MEAT! I find that amazing. Amazing, and wonderful. I could grind up any damn thing in that: nuts, meat, fruit, meat, vegetables, meat! It’s even RED, like a little grinding rocket! I loves it.

Strange thing, this kitchen business. My mother’s kitchen has so many more toys in it, so much more room, so many opportunities for grinding meats, and yet I never really cared for cooking in it – but now that I have my own little rented space, the kitchen section of every store has become my favorite. This has given me all the proof I need that people are really like piñata: give them what they want and you can tame them and then bash them for candy!

Are hermaphrodites allowed in the Olympics? And if so, would they have to compete as men, since they have more testosterone in them than is allowed in women?

Wait, don’t go, little blog piñatas! Pictures, I have pictures! Curt and I went to look at Christmas lights in Chino:

Foghorn Leghorn, and a little jittery monkey say (he says he says) Happy Christmas!

And what Christmas display would be complete without an Elvis Bear display? EH!?

I am off to watch some Monk on my new VHS/DVD-R, and then nap, and then bake, and then play a video game or three. ;)

I got Viva Pinata for Christmas! :) Which meant, of course, that we now have an XBox 360! I only stopped for sleep, and to clean (since I was starting to gather a thin film of gamer filth). Still cleaning now. Stopped to brag about my loots like a n00b. Also, to announce that I cry every damn time I watch The Bells of St. Mary’s. Damn that Bing Crosby and his stupid straw hatted charm.

Back to work. /waves

Michael Bolton wants to know How Can We Be Lovers If We Can’t Be Friends? I don’t know, Michael. I just don’t know. Remember when you had a receding hairline and long curly hair? Oh, Michael, Michael – secretly, I still love you!

I am almost certain that listening to him will make The Boy cringe and roil in his seat like a tortured, possessed thing, stopping just short of the chest beating and the ululations.

/pats Michael Bolton

Okay, on to business.

I have four of the eight packages under the tree. It is imperative that I find out what is in these boxes, before the 25th. I must discover whether one, or all four of them, are ponies. You have been impressed into my Christmas hooligan adventure. Arrr!

Dimensions are important. Since I can’t find my ruler, I shall use the DVD box of Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan to convey size.

Exhibit P

Observations: No air holes. Pony is possibly freeze dried (a la Sea Monkeys), or possibly has perished due to buyer oversight. Way to go! /sobs WAY TO GO!

Shaking: Top heavy on one side. Or, possibly, bottom heavy on one side. Subject may have been tampered with. Suspect subterfuge involving box versus real size of present.

Measurements: Weighs about 1/18 of a pony, if ponies weighed 144 pounds. About 2 Khans x 1.74 Khans x 2 Khans.

Likeness To Pony: Not high.

Alternate Guess: Kitchen gadget. Maybe bread-maker. Maybe some other thing with metal in it.

Exhibits O & N

Observations: Exhibit O has a strange relief pattern on top side. Top edge contours rounded. Mildly squeezable. Exhibit N is regulation size un-pony.

Shaking: No looseness. No neighing.

Measurements: Collective weight about 5/10 of a pony, if ponies weighed 4 pounds. Exhibit O is exactly 1 Khan. Exhibit N is about 1.5 Khans in Depth.

Likeness To Pony: VERY Not high.

Alternate Guess: Exhibit O…I have a guess, so bright and deep in my soul that I shall not utter it here. If I am right – oh! – then I also have the key to Exhibit P, and my Boy will be smothered in kisses and love nips! (Oh, regardless of any presents, anyway, he will be! ;) )

Exhibit N is Monk, Season One. This is only a guess.

Exhibit Y

Observations: Where does the saddle go?!

Shaking: Uniformly packed. Does not respond to kicking.

Measurements: Collective weight about 3/72 of a pony, if ponies weighed 375 pounds. About .7 Khans x 2.31 Khans x 2.2 Khans.

Likeness To Pony: /whimper

Alternate Guess: A VCR Player. Possibly a VCR/DVD Combo. Possibly a VCR/DVD-R Combo. I must watch my VHS tapes! MUST!

It is a strong possibility that I may not be receiving a pony this year. Again. Again, and my heart aches. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, but HE GIVES NO PONIES!

I suppose I should content myself with the fact that he didn’t give my brother a Badonkadonk either.

I bet my Pony and I could beat my brother and his Badonkadonk in a joust.

Enough tomfoolery. ;) I am making cookies today, here in Stepford. Off I go!

I hate Ticketmaster. I hate it so much, I wish I could beat it to death, like it were a giant, ugly clown pinata. I don’t think I know a single person who walks away from Ticketmaster saying, “Gee, that was a great transaction, I just love dealing with them!” NO. No, it is always a gut-wrenching, bend-over-and-take-it experience, and I hate them. Assholery, that’s what it is: ASSHOLERY! Beware, you Ticketmasterians – some day when the big poop hits the fan, you will crumble and I’ll call leprechauns to dance on the ashes of your smoking, rotting remains, and put curses on your ancestors so when they all land in hell for using your ill-gotten treasures, the harpies will snatch out their entrails and decorate your nasty, yellow gravestones with them!! /shakes stick

(More later: curses go first, for potency.)

:)

I got a sparkly for our one year anniversary, and Curt gets a one year renewed subscription to Me! ;) Just kidding. He gets a gift. Still secret – shhh!

In other news, I am dragging my feet on getting ready for work, hoping the freeway will miraculously clear. It won’t. I know, because if ever there were a cup that was incapable of being half full, it is the one that holdeth the bitter wine of the commuter. Still, it is not so bad. Mortal beings must be thankful for love and shelter and food, all of which I have in abundance. I offer up my mileage and blood pressure to you, great god of the freeway, so that these gifts may continue!

The best thing about my blog is that I have no conception of what a great dork I am until years later when I read over what I’ve written, and blush.

Oop, must get to work. /waves

2:01 AM. I’m going to hate myself in the morning. As usual.

I keep meaning to make this blog a productive member of society, but it persists in being not. I meant to start doing that productive bit tonight, but one thing led to another, and somehow my iTunes opened up, and the time I had allocated to blogging productively was usurped by the New Kids On The Block (yeah, you heard me!) singing “I’ll Be Loving You Forever”, and so, you see, nothing has been done. As usual.

Boy and I went to The Huntington today to look at the roses in bloom. I took pictures, but as my camera is way over there on the other side of the room, I offer up to you a totally unrelated picture:

My younger brother and a happy foofy kitty!

Also, there is a new game in the house: Bookworm Adventures! Other video-game-to-crack analogies aside, this game is really like crack. Curse PopCap and their confounded addictive game making!

I have nothing more to say now. I take my neuroses and bad music and go to bed.