Friday, December 24, 2010

Justine Called on Christmas Day to Say She Was Thinking of Killing Herself. I said, "We're in the Middle of Opening Presents, Justine. Could You Possibly Call Back Later, That Is, If You're Still Alive."

If you know me you know how hard it's been for me to wait until today to post that.

I've bet myself a pint I can go to Monday without posting, so this is the first post since the last post and the last post until the next post, which I'm betting will be Monday and betting will be Saturday, probably Sunday. I'm hoping to collect Monday, I'm guessing I'll collect Sunday. NO POSTING UPDATES ALLOWED! I am allowed to post comments. Please, bet amongst yourselves.


    James Tate

    Justine called on Christmas day to say she
    was thinking of killing herself. I said, "We're
    in the middle of opening presents, Justine. Could
    you possibly call back later, that is, if you're
    still alive." She was furious with me and called
    me all sorts of names which I refuse to dignify
    by repeating them. I hung up on her and returned
    to the joyful task of opening presents. Everyone
    seemed delighted with what they got, and that
    definitely included me. I placed a few more logs
    on the fire, and then the phone rang again. This
    time it was Hugh and he had just taken all of his
    pills and washed them down with a quart of gin.
    "Sleep it off, Hugh," I said, "I can barely under-
    stand you, you're slurring so badly. Call me
    tomorrow, Hugh, and Merry Christmas." The roast
    in the oven smelled delicious. The kids were playing
    with their new toys. Loni was giving me a big
    Christmas kiss when the phone rang again. It was
    Debbie. "I hate you," she said. "You're the most
    disgusting human being on the planet." "You're
    absolutely right," I said, "and I've always been
    aware of this. Nonetheless, Merry Christmas, Debbie."
    Halfway through dinner the phone rang again, but
    this time Loni answered it. When she came back
    to the table she looked pale. "Who was it?" I
    asked. "It was my mother," she said. "And what
    did she say?" I asked. "She said she wasn't my
    mother," she said.


    1. Jeebus, what an attention whore. Read. Play with EG and Planet. Watch futbol. Go to Oakton. If I see public evidence of you being alive within the next 48 hours, I shall be quite cross with you.

      Happy Giftmas to all my loves over there.

    2. Now that was some excellent poetry. Happy. (And thanks for the shout out.)

    3. I do love that poem, as well!

      Happy thing, BDR!

    4. I thought I'd point out that it is now Sunday.

      And some of us did not slack off over Christmas or whatever you call it.

      And then there's Tengrain...