January 2010
New Year’s Resolution: Despite the urges, I vow to cut back to sucking the lifeforce from the souls of only *three* Innocents per week.
December 2009
While I appreciate the 50% post-holiday discount, I can’t help but think that Jorge Garcia was their least popular Successories poster.
Based on video footage, I’ve always suspected that Gillian Gilbert wasn’t entirely sure she was even a member of New Order.
When people wish him a happy new year, I’ll bet Dr. Who inwardly smiles yet still isn’t quite sure how to respond.
Much like me.
“Auld Lang Syne” is the Jar Jar Binks of New Year’s Eve.
No matter how often he shows up at my door with flowers, to me he’ll always be the young rockabilly prisoner in The Shawshank Redemption.
While I admire their moxie and vision, Starship should have built this city on urban planning and a dependable sewage treatment plant.
Back when I was working as a drug mule, I used to— Oh, sorry. I need to take this call.
I’m new to this ‘sexting’ craze, so I started with those to whom I feel closest. Having trouble gauging Mr. Gandolfini’s reaction, though.
I’m like a coffee-holic, but with heroin.
No. Wait.
My neighbor promised he would teach me the meaning of the word pain. I guess I’m not a very good student.
eHarmomy advertising on SyFy gives the nerd demographic more false hope than @loadedsanta. (And by “nerd demographic,” I mean me.)
As you joyfully unwrap your presents, I’m white-knuckling it over here.
My membership in the Truman Capote Cult is under reconsideration.
Tonight America is following the Google Earth Santa tracker website. That’s fine. But tomorrow, I begin cyberstalking Mrs. Claus.
Just purchased a big 80 oz. bottle of Liquid-Plumr Gel Clog Remover.
Boy, will my Secret Santa exchange partner be surprised.
My car doesn’t have GPS. Rather, I rely on Rudolph’s nose-based guidance technology.
Season’s Greetings is different than other greetings due to its latent and barely masked Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Today is the day we start lighting the menorah, right? Could use some guidance here. TIA.
Terror: Celine Dion singing Christmas songs.
Abject Terror: Mariah Carey singing Christmas songs.
To respect religious diversity, instead of “Merry Christmas,” I prefer to say, “PLEASE DON’T HURT ME! HERE’S MY WALLET. JUST TAKE IT.”
References to “sugar plums dancing” and “Jack Frost nipping” remind me of a simpler time. A time when I didn’t think analytically.
I would participate in more reindeer games if Donner and Blitzen weren’t so anal about d20 saving throws against lycanthropes.
Time is running out. Only three days until Christmas and I still have dozens of holiday-themed tweets left in Birdhouse.
The only thing worse than CSI: Miami is the poetry I wrote in high school.
The Klodt Family Motto: What Are You Doing Out of Your Cage?
Starting to get just a little alarmed here. After nearly 40 years of anxious waiting, those crayons I ate have yet to pass.
