Putting The 'Ma' Back In Christmas

I'll answer your two questions so you don't have to feel uncomfortable asking them:

1) No, my Mom did not have a stroke. She was just reacting comically to being kissed on the cheek by both Julian and me. I thought she took it well (most women would simply faint).

2) No, I'm not black but I'm starting to think I may be mixed race. My skin hasn't seen the sun since mid-October and look at me...I'm beige! Strictly speaking, I am mixed race. I'm Anglo-Scot-Canadian.

Jolly good, auch aye, eh? Hallelujah. Holy shit. Pass the donuts.

Speaking of donuts, thank goodness Christmas is close to being over. I feel like the over-stuffed sack of monkey sh__ that Clark Griswold ranted about in the movie Christmas Vacation. I really do feel awful. I've had a sore stomach for 24 hours and there's not sight of it ending anytime soon. I blame two distinct groups for my gastro predicament:

1) everyone else.
2) me.

It's a global issue, pretty much. The excess at Christmastime is so colossal that it's borderline criminal. The world, or at least my world, wastes so many resources for Christmas that it leaves me feeling that we're collectively insane. Everywhere I turn there's sugar, and more sugar. And I'm a sugar whore. I simply can't say 'no' when a tantalizing shortbread is in close proximity of my snout.

Bet you can't eat just one.

Shut up, Messier! That's a bet I'd never take because....I. Would. Lose.

I think it's high time that we stop all of this insane Christmas nonsense. Let's skip the unnecessary presents. Let's skip the over-the-top consumption of food that will pad us all under-the-bottom. We neither need it nor want it. And you know what? There's not a hope in hell of any of this changing. Why, you ask? Because humans behave like morons when gathered in groups. I don't need to back up my statement, but I'll throw out a few examples of moronic groups to make my point. In no particular order: rugby teams, the Senate, North Korea, middle school students, to name but a few.

So, Ian, what are you going to do about it?

Is that you, Messier?

No, it's your alter ego speaking again. I didn't authorize Messier to use italics when he spoke earlier. These hockey players, all of them, are ruffians. They think they can do what they want, on the ice and off. Anyways, so what are you going to do about it...all this Christmas excess?

I'm going to eat a lavish Christmas breakfast of coconut waffles, Swedish tea ring, chocolates and candies. Two hours later I'm having Christmas dinner at noon with my Mom. I suspect it will be a delicious turkey dinner. Later in the day I'm going to my brother's place for Christmas supper. I suspect it will be a delicious turkey dinner.

Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we shall die.

It could happen, and it would be a shame.