onotob

A Christmas Runon

I have just finished wrapping all that must be wrapped, a formidable task considering that I could only find a mere sliver of scotch tape and the only scissors that could be found were a small pair of chocolate-handled moustache trimmers, since the fairly sturdy and dependable pair that usually reside in the knife drawer along with the worn Ginsu knives and the potato masher are sitting, cold and lonely no doubt, in the house of my ex-girlfriend, who just this weekend updated her MySpace profile to indicate that the kind of person she would like to meet is exactly the kind of person I am not, which is to say someone who has seen that the line was actually a sphere, and now I sit listening to a lovely American songstress croon angelically about a young boy being shot dead in the street and it, oddly enough, fills me with the warmest of loving thoughts for those in my life and causes me to wonder what they are up to themselves at this very moment, and hoping for them all the best things this rough, cruel, exhausting, thrilling and altogether too-short life has to offer.

Merry Christmas, everyone. May it find you as blessed as it has found me.