Seasoned beatings of a dead reindeer.
A Disclaimer: While I am fully in support of wishing people any number of extra-national, alterna-religious, imaginary and simply silly sorts of happy holidays, when it comes right down to it, I say "Merry Christmas" when I really mean it. You may wish me any sort of thing you'd wish, and I'll take it with a warm smile and maybe a nice candy cane jabbed into your eye, but you get merries from me. I don't make any apologies for it; it's how I was raised, it's how all the singable carols have it, and it's what Michael Caine and Kermit the Frog say in A Muppet Christmas Carol, so that's the way it's gonna be. So if you DON'T want to have a Merry Christmas, but would prefer to indulge in one of the 124,897 other perfectly valid holidays that can be celebrated on or around this date, just take that sentiment as read over the one I am herewith providing.
This Christmas I did not open any presents in the morning (although there was a nice Christmas card and a hardback pictorial of Mt. Hood sent by a realty agency to a former tenant of the house; just lovely. I must send them a thank-you card!), nor did I wait with breathless anticipation for the chance to come out, nor did I drink any hot chocolate (because we're out of milk), and although I did play a Christmas carol when I woke up ("Star of Wonder", by the Naden Band of Maritime Forces Pacific), it was on because iTunes was on Shuffle. I received most of my excellent presents from my Secret Housemates back on December 4th (Episode 4019-B, "A Very Special Secret House-mas") and received a few others in the mail since then, from good and wonderful folk in St. Louis and Port Townshend, and a few cards, and I've taken these nuggets of joy one at a time, not hoarding them for Christmas morning.
And I'm very content. I sallied forth with Queen Julia and Tycho, and of course Vruba himself, to see King Kong at the incredibly expensive and ridiculously gorgeous Cinetopia in Vancouver. It was easily the Best Giant Monkey movie ever made, and a strong contender for Best Love Story. And there was even a scene on a frozen pond with lit Christmas trees, so it qualifies as a Christmas movie, making it the Best Christmas Movie ever, too. More on Kong in a later entry.
After that, we wandered all over Portland looking for a place that was open and willing to feed us, finally finding salvation in Javier's, the 24-hour taco joint in the far Northern wilds of town, where we Christmas-feasted on carnitas and refried beans and a truly stomach-shatteringly-huge pile of carne asada french fries with guacamole and cheese. And now I've even got my Christmas coma working, although not from tryptophan so much as air deprivation caused by lungs being packed with beef.
As I may have mentioned, I am content. Today I am allowing myself to slough off the worries of the world, which have been piling one on top of another lately, and I have done nothing but enjoy a lingering day with such friends as you'd be envious to share it with. Although, as our favorite 'Hero has observed, it'd be lovely if we were all together.
Now, to business:
I have purchased enough cards for each and every one of you, but I need your addresses again, since when Gog was put into storage I neglected to get all my addresses clear of him, and I'm far, far too lazy to hook him back up just to get them. So, if you'd like your Christmas card (and in many cases, your present, but if you DO get a present, don't tell everyone else, or they'll ALL want one, and I'm already bankrupt. Just remember; if I didn't get you a present, it's because I secretly hate you), I'll need your address. You can leave it as a comment here if you're a bold, boisterous sort, or you can email it to me at wheelofmorality at yahoo.com OR my (brand-new, all-l33t, all-spiffing) wheeloffish at gmail.com address. They're obviously going to be very late, but I took a look at the lines of the Post Office this year and decided that THIS year I'm going to bring everyone a bit of post-Christmas cheer, a single glimmering spark of after-holiday magic, like a chunk of ham from the bottom of the oven or the last square of cornbread left forgotten in the pan until the 29th. Because that's just how I roll.
So, seriously. Everyone. Let's have those addresses. Theoretically a few of you are excused since I've asked you over AIM or you've mailed me things (or both), but honestly, do you expect me to remember that by tomorrow? Play it on the safe side.
The WheelCo™ Christmas Newsletter!
We sure enjoyed throwing the WheelCo Company Holiday Party this year, and we hope you enjoyed it just as much. Everyone be sure to thank to Trish from Accounts Payable for the terrific píparkökur she baked on such short notice! Also, everyone who did not participate in the Secret Santa gift exchange should report to room 1138-T for immediate termination! Thanks, everyone! And, for the friends of WheelCo:
Merry Christmas! to 2sixteen and kiddeternity, who are undoubtedly the pure-D hippest couple I've had the privilege of knowing. I'm pretty sure I've become cooler just by meeting them. I hope their joy in each other continues to grow, feeding on itself like a fusion reaction, until the universe is consumed in a lovesplosion.
Merry Christmas! to achlis and dog_assassin, who are just as cool a couple, if perhaps not quite as pure-D. However, they make up for it with a titanic abundance of ferrets and suicide regality. And you two especially should e-mail me your address, since the loss of the envelope your Christmas card (which said nothing more than bland pleasantries and "Happy Holidays" and all that, Achlis, I assure you) was what prompted me to make the address-begging broadcast earlier in the show.
Merry Christmas! to alongcamea, who seems extremely and enviably content with her new boy, which is really all a girl can ask for, aside from diamonds, Angeline Jolie, and orgasm ice cream.
Merry Christmas! to angelbaby001, my fellow manacled slave to General Motors, who has found some very clever avenues of escapism, and who is destined for marvelous and undoubtedly highly-erotic things. The good people at WheelCo™ encourage this.
Merry Christmas! to antirealism, who has had a nasty and venom-fanged year snapping at her heels; however, I maintain faith in her emberglowing spirit, razor-slick brains, and overwhelming rock-star charisma to carry her over the midnight wall of the 31st with a smug laugh, into the warm embrace of a better year.
Merry Christmaas! to bigdorancool, who really needs to get a job screenwriting, since when he takes the trouble to post I have the distinct feeling of having walked into a kick-ass movie somewhere in the middle of a dialogue between a hep-cat world and a character who is somewhat cooler than Vincent Vega.
Merry Christmas! to blackcat59, one of the chosen few who appears to have left New College sane and whole and has already begun moving on to better things while so many of us are still in the "planning stages" of such lofty endeavors ("I'm totally gonna apply to grad school, man ... just need to take the GREs. Right after this level. Pass the fookin' bowl already ...").
Merry Christmas! to bluesbodger, who is the most capable and self-sufficient Zen master I know, and who has brewed kegs full of nectar that would enrage the gods if they knew of it, and who I am convinced is one of those people who secretly gets up at three in the morning and squints up at the sky to see if any stars have burnt out because the are only ones who know how to screw in a new one.
Merry Christmas! to botanicasbrain, who is much missed even as we here at WheelCo™ wish her the best of luck with her future endeavors, maintain faith that she cruise through this schooling period with aplomb and a plum, and furthermore hope that she remembers to steal us an iPod Nano.
Merry Christmas! to brianleeellison, the Answer himself, who is evidently too busy receiving a higher education to post much any more, which we can only assume is a good thing as we strive to beat this next level while re-sparking the bowl.
Merry Christmas! to canopy_maestro and doctorcurare, the adventurer and the bastard, the original Odd Couple, who between the two of them generate enough ass-kicking force to knock Stephen Chow flat while pimp-slapping Chuck Norris, and both of whom we here at WheelCo wish were here in Portland today, so that we could junk-kick them into next week. Pura algo u otro, tu bastardo flaco.
Merry Christmas! to count_fenring, who clearly is busy locking his tentacles around every unsecured system on Earth as part of his plan for world domination; a plan that will be foiled as we here at WheelCo have dibs, but which we admire nonetheless.
Merry Christmas! to cuba_libre and the_verb, the finest tap dancer and domestic on that side of the Rio Grande, who are inspirations to us all with their psychotic devotion to surviving Natural Science courses, their love of adorable bunny wabbits, and the one spectacular Brazilian ass they share between them.
Merry Christmas! to d_mcetiquette, who should be in all of our thoughts as she continues her tireless and courteous war on the roughshod brutes and elbows-on-the-table Philistines who have gleefully slaughtered good manners. I hope someone serves her a properly-steamed plum pudding, with an appropriate fork.
Merry Christmas! to julieclipse and pseudomammal. Get on with your globetrotting and get back here, already, you two crazy kids. Vruba and I can only maintain the Secrecy on our own for so long.
Merry Christmas! to kerrickadrian, who had better be making the absolute most of his time in the Golden City, last hidden refuge of the Too Much Fun Club, where the waves rolled back to after breaking against the Rockies.
Merry Christmas! to overdr1ve777, the mightiest brother I could ask for, a gentleman and a scholar and a giant and a madman and a rocker and a cyborg and an alien and a barbarian and a lover and a fighter. And he'd better get me somethin' good.
Merry Christmas! to pairodox or Paradox or however it may want to be spelled, widely regarded as the Suavest Lover in three galaxies. I hope his Christmas was filled with just as much love and nubile flesh as his poor eyes can stand, but that's kind of like hoping the sun came up this morning.
Merry Christmas! to patient_0, despite the fact that this particular wish will disintegrate on impact with his dense protective layer of hate. Nonetheless, he's one of the smartest bastards I know, certainly smarter than any of YOU, and his taste is impeccable. For these reasons alone, he deserves a merry SOMEthing.
Merry Christmas! to pinkkaigirl, from whom we have heard distressingly little here at WheelCo™, but who we are certain is still finding her way to contentment and happiness, and who should never forget her mystical rawk-star roots.
Merry Christmas! to random_walker, our Triune man in the Big Apple, the Urban Systemhaqr, with whom we wish to rollerblade down the traffic-clogged roads to Grand Central Station, despite the fact that the rotating phone platform is gone. He seems to be finding his groove in the mysterious aether of higher math, and we know that to be a good thing.
And while we are speaking of N'yawk, since EVERY conversation eventually comes around to that damn city, we'd like to send a fond Merry Christmas! to Mr. Fish and the lovely Miz Cloud, as well as their (presumably - they never call, they never write, how should I know if they're living or dead?, oy gevalt, lord, the trials you put me through ...) housemate malraux. I miss them and their conversations. And the sweet, sweet movies.
Merry Christmas! to sagan_fox and the_crowchan, my two FAVORITE non-New College college students. You two had better be striving to keep things Discordian out there in the World; I'll know if you're not. If I don't see Dick Cheney wearing bunny slippers, elf ears, and Groucho glasses at a press conference in three months' time, I'm holding you two personally responsible. Alternately, I'd accept Dick Cheney being dosed with some hideous parasitical disease (I'm thinking Guinea worms) or having his knees smashed with a pimp cane. Go nuts!
Merry Christmas! to snarkish of the Thousand Bagels, a man of marvels and kneaded dough, who should really come visit Portland again. Although that goes for EVERYONE on that list, just without the "again" part in most cases, and I guess it wouldn't apply to those who live here, but shut up, that's why. Yes. Hope you got some decent books, my boy.
Merry Christmas! to suicide_sam_e, the last Triune man in Florida, King of Spiders and Master of the Fine and Fiery. The rest of you I miss, but without Suicide I am lost (that's a phrase that'll set off some psychomonitors). He can write as well as he can draw, and I only hope HE doesn't notice that so I can still be credited as the "writer" for our comic.
Merry Christmas! to the_stang, who is clearly NOT really living in Portland, or he'd have visited by now. I think he's on the run. With Richard Kimble, Jimmy Hoffa and bin Laden.
Merry Christmas! to theroden, AKA The Law, living up to his name every day, keeping it as real as it gets, and generally being cooler than a penguin listening to Miles Davis. I'll have the perfect present for him (and Actionhero, and Heph) once I get that lazy embroiderer to finish the Standard of Clio.
Merry Christmas! to thryn, the loveliest and saddest girl I know, and the one who is always going to be with me as she has become inextricably linked in my mind with the scent of clove cigarettes.
Merry Christmas! to touchy_seeley, keeping it real down in the sun-drenched dales of California. I'm damn glad I found him again - I just wish he'd be online more often. And that there was a league running with Tripp Shade in it.
Merry Christmas! to vruba: Lord of the Fairies.
Merry Christmas! to whetherwoman and her beau as they savor the bold, spicy mango-chipotle flavor of the non-Northwest, and tentatively explore the weird fogs of a higher education in the liberal arts.
Merry Christmas! to wsasianboy, because that boy can tell a love story like no other motherfucker on Earth.
You're all probably reading this AFTER Christmas is over, so, in conclusion, I hope you had a good friggin' time, and tune in on January 3rd when I wish everyone a happy New Year.
This Christmas I did not open any presents in the morning (although there was a nice Christmas card and a hardback pictorial of Mt. Hood sent by a realty agency to a former tenant of the house; just lovely. I must send them a thank-you card!), nor did I wait with breathless anticipation for the chance to come out, nor did I drink any hot chocolate (because we're out of milk), and although I did play a Christmas carol when I woke up ("Star of Wonder", by the Naden Band of Maritime Forces Pacific), it was on because iTunes was on Shuffle. I received most of my excellent presents from my Secret Housemates back on December 4th (Episode 4019-B, "A Very Special Secret House-mas") and received a few others in the mail since then, from good and wonderful folk in St. Louis and Port Townshend, and a few cards, and I've taken these nuggets of joy one at a time, not hoarding them for Christmas morning.
And I'm very content. I sallied forth with Queen Julia and Tycho, and of course Vruba himself, to see King Kong at the incredibly expensive and ridiculously gorgeous Cinetopia in Vancouver. It was easily the Best Giant Monkey movie ever made, and a strong contender for Best Love Story. And there was even a scene on a frozen pond with lit Christmas trees, so it qualifies as a Christmas movie, making it the Best Christmas Movie ever, too. More on Kong in a later entry.
After that, we wandered all over Portland looking for a place that was open and willing to feed us, finally finding salvation in Javier's, the 24-hour taco joint in the far Northern wilds of town, where we Christmas-feasted on carnitas and refried beans and a truly stomach-shatteringly-huge pile of carne asada french fries with guacamole and cheese. And now I've even got my Christmas coma working, although not from tryptophan so much as air deprivation caused by lungs being packed with beef.
As I may have mentioned, I am content. Today I am allowing myself to slough off the worries of the world, which have been piling one on top of another lately, and I have done nothing but enjoy a lingering day with such friends as you'd be envious to share it with. Although, as our favorite 'Hero has observed, it'd be lovely if we were all together.
Now, to business:
I have purchased enough cards for each and every one of you, but I need your addresses again, since when Gog was put into storage I neglected to get all my addresses clear of him, and I'm far, far too lazy to hook him back up just to get them. So, if you'd like your Christmas card (and in many cases, your present, but if you DO get a present, don't tell everyone else, or they'll ALL want one, and I'm already bankrupt. Just remember; if I didn't get you a present, it's because I secretly hate you), I'll need your address. You can leave it as a comment here if you're a bold, boisterous sort, or you can email it to me at wheelofmorality at yahoo.com OR my (brand-new, all-l33t, all-spiffing) wheeloffish at gmail.com address. They're obviously going to be very late, but I took a look at the lines of the Post Office this year and decided that THIS year I'm going to bring everyone a bit of post-Christmas cheer, a single glimmering spark of after-holiday magic, like a chunk of ham from the bottom of the oven or the last square of cornbread left forgotten in the pan until the 29th. Because that's just how I roll.
So, seriously. Everyone. Let's have those addresses. Theoretically a few of you are excused since I've asked you over AIM or you've mailed me things (or both), but honestly, do you expect me to remember that by tomorrow? Play it on the safe side.
The WheelCo™ Christmas Newsletter!
We sure enjoyed throwing the WheelCo Company Holiday Party this year, and we hope you enjoyed it just as much. Everyone be sure to thank to Trish from Accounts Payable for the terrific píparkökur she baked on such short notice! Also, everyone who did not participate in the Secret Santa gift exchange should report to room 1138-T for immediate termination! Thanks, everyone! And, for the friends of WheelCo:
Merry Christmas! to 2sixteen and kiddeternity, who are undoubtedly the pure-D hippest couple I've had the privilege of knowing. I'm pretty sure I've become cooler just by meeting them. I hope their joy in each other continues to grow, feeding on itself like a fusion reaction, until the universe is consumed in a lovesplosion.
Merry Christmas! to achlis and dog_assassin, who are just as cool a couple, if perhaps not quite as pure-D. However, they make up for it with a titanic abundance of ferrets and suicide regality. And you two especially should e-mail me your address, since the loss of the envelope your Christmas card (which said nothing more than bland pleasantries and "Happy Holidays" and all that, Achlis, I assure you) was what prompted me to make the address-begging broadcast earlier in the show.
Merry Christmas! to alongcamea, who seems extremely and enviably content with her new boy, which is really all a girl can ask for, aside from diamonds, Angeline Jolie, and orgasm ice cream.
Merry Christmas! to angelbaby001, my fellow manacled slave to General Motors, who has found some very clever avenues of escapism, and who is destined for marvelous and undoubtedly highly-erotic things. The good people at WheelCo™ encourage this.
Merry Christmas! to antirealism, who has had a nasty and venom-fanged year snapping at her heels; however, I maintain faith in her emberglowing spirit, razor-slick brains, and overwhelming rock-star charisma to carry her over the midnight wall of the 31st with a smug laugh, into the warm embrace of a better year.
Merry Christmaas! to bigdorancool, who really needs to get a job screenwriting, since when he takes the trouble to post I have the distinct feeling of having walked into a kick-ass movie somewhere in the middle of a dialogue between a hep-cat world and a character who is somewhat cooler than Vincent Vega.
Merry Christmas! to blackcat59, one of the chosen few who appears to have left New College sane and whole and has already begun moving on to better things while so many of us are still in the "planning stages" of such lofty endeavors ("I'm totally gonna apply to grad school, man ... just need to take the GREs. Right after this level. Pass the fookin' bowl already ...").
Merry Christmas! to bluesbodger, who is the most capable and self-sufficient Zen master I know, and who has brewed kegs full of nectar that would enrage the gods if they knew of it, and who I am convinced is one of those people who secretly gets up at three in the morning and squints up at the sky to see if any stars have burnt out because the are only ones who know how to screw in a new one.
Merry Christmas! to botanicasbrain, who is much missed even as we here at WheelCo™ wish her the best of luck with her future endeavors, maintain faith that she cruise through this schooling period with aplomb and a plum, and furthermore hope that she remembers to steal us an iPod Nano.
Merry Christmas! to brianleeellison, the Answer himself, who is evidently too busy receiving a higher education to post much any more, which we can only assume is a good thing as we strive to beat this next level while re-sparking the bowl.
Merry Christmas! to canopy_maestro and doctorcurare, the adventurer and the bastard, the original Odd Couple, who between the two of them generate enough ass-kicking force to knock Stephen Chow flat while pimp-slapping Chuck Norris, and both of whom we here at WheelCo wish were here in Portland today, so that we could junk-kick them into next week. Pura algo u otro, tu bastardo flaco.
Merry Christmas! to count_fenring, who clearly is busy locking his tentacles around every unsecured system on Earth as part of his plan for world domination; a plan that will be foiled as we here at WheelCo have dibs, but which we admire nonetheless.
Merry Christmas! to cuba_libre and the_verb, the finest tap dancer and domestic on that side of the Rio Grande, who are inspirations to us all with their psychotic devotion to surviving Natural Science courses, their love of adorable bunny wabbits, and the one spectacular Brazilian ass they share between them.
Merry Christmas! to d_mcetiquette, who should be in all of our thoughts as she continues her tireless and courteous war on the roughshod brutes and elbows-on-the-table Philistines who have gleefully slaughtered good manners. I hope someone serves her a properly-steamed plum pudding, with an appropriate fork.
Merry Christmas! to julieclipse and pseudomammal. Get on with your globetrotting and get back here, already, you two crazy kids. Vruba and I can only maintain the Secrecy on our own for so long.
Merry Christmas! to kerrickadrian, who had better be making the absolute most of his time in the Golden City, last hidden refuge of the Too Much Fun Club, where the waves rolled back to after breaking against the Rockies.
Merry Christmas! to overdr1ve777, the mightiest brother I could ask for, a gentleman and a scholar and a giant and a madman and a rocker and a cyborg and an alien and a barbarian and a lover and a fighter. And he'd better get me somethin' good.
Merry Christmas! to pairodox or Paradox or however it may want to be spelled, widely regarded as the Suavest Lover in three galaxies. I hope his Christmas was filled with just as much love and nubile flesh as his poor eyes can stand, but that's kind of like hoping the sun came up this morning.
Merry Christmas! to patient_0, despite the fact that this particular wish will disintegrate on impact with his dense protective layer of hate. Nonetheless, he's one of the smartest bastards I know, certainly smarter than any of YOU, and his taste is impeccable. For these reasons alone, he deserves a merry SOMEthing.
Merry Christmas! to pinkkaigirl, from whom we have heard distressingly little here at WheelCo™, but who we are certain is still finding her way to contentment and happiness, and who should never forget her mystical rawk-star roots.
Merry Christmas! to random_walker, our Triune man in the Big Apple, the Urban Systemhaqr, with whom we wish to rollerblade down the traffic-clogged roads to Grand Central Station, despite the fact that the rotating phone platform is gone. He seems to be finding his groove in the mysterious aether of higher math, and we know that to be a good thing.
And while we are speaking of N'yawk, since EVERY conversation eventually comes around to that damn city, we'd like to send a fond Merry Christmas! to Mr. Fish and the lovely Miz Cloud, as well as their (presumably - they never call, they never write, how should I know if they're living or dead?, oy gevalt, lord, the trials you put me through ...) housemate malraux. I miss them and their conversations. And the sweet, sweet movies.
Merry Christmas! to sagan_fox and the_crowchan, my two FAVORITE non-New College college students. You two had better be striving to keep things Discordian out there in the World; I'll know if you're not. If I don't see Dick Cheney wearing bunny slippers, elf ears, and Groucho glasses at a press conference in three months' time, I'm holding you two personally responsible. Alternately, I'd accept Dick Cheney being dosed with some hideous parasitical disease (I'm thinking Guinea worms) or having his knees smashed with a pimp cane. Go nuts!
Merry Christmas! to snarkish of the Thousand Bagels, a man of marvels and kneaded dough, who should really come visit Portland again. Although that goes for EVERYONE on that list, just without the "again" part in most cases, and I guess it wouldn't apply to those who live here, but shut up, that's why. Yes. Hope you got some decent books, my boy.
Merry Christmas! to suicide_sam_e, the last Triune man in Florida, King of Spiders and Master of the Fine and Fiery. The rest of you I miss, but without Suicide I am lost (that's a phrase that'll set off some psychomonitors). He can write as well as he can draw, and I only hope HE doesn't notice that so I can still be credited as the "writer" for our comic.
Merry Christmas! to the_stang, who is clearly NOT really living in Portland, or he'd have visited by now. I think he's on the run. With Richard Kimble, Jimmy Hoffa and bin Laden.
Merry Christmas! to theroden, AKA The Law, living up to his name every day, keeping it as real as it gets, and generally being cooler than a penguin listening to Miles Davis. I'll have the perfect present for him (and Actionhero, and Heph) once I get that lazy embroiderer to finish the Standard of Clio.
Merry Christmas! to thryn, the loveliest and saddest girl I know, and the one who is always going to be with me as she has become inextricably linked in my mind with the scent of clove cigarettes.
Merry Christmas! to touchy_seeley, keeping it real down in the sun-drenched dales of California. I'm damn glad I found him again - I just wish he'd be online more often. And that there was a league running with Tripp Shade in it.
Merry Christmas! to vruba: Lord of the Fairies.
Merry Christmas! to whetherwoman and her beau as they savor the bold, spicy mango-chipotle flavor of the non-Northwest, and tentatively explore the weird fogs of a higher education in the liberal arts.
Merry Christmas! to wsasianboy, because that boy can tell a love story like no other motherfucker on Earth.
You're all probably reading this AFTER Christmas is over, so, in conclusion, I hope you had a good friggin' time, and tune in on January 3rd when I wish everyone a happy New Year.