Add a Little Filthy Caption.

1. Wait..wait….before you go in there…let me just explain why I was so interested in the kleenex.
2. Tell me about this Santa again.
3. QT, we need to talk about your drinking.

1. Wait..wait….before you go in there…let me just explain why I was so interested in the kleenex.
2. Tell me about this Santa again.
3. QT, we need to talk about your drinking.
1. I feel the need for another guys night with Editor. The ironic thing about guys night is that we talk about women the entire time.
2. I finished all of my Christmas shopping. Again, this isn’t because I just couldn’t wait to get started. More that I see Christmas as a band-aid I prefer to rip off in one quick motion.
3. Sitcom will sometimes say, “That’s so gay.” Now, lest you think Sitcom is being derogatory, I will tell you that she is not. She is nothing if not open minded. However, if you don’t know Sitcom and you heard her say it, it is possible you might get that impression. But don’t worry. You see, every time that Sitcom says, “That’s so gay, ” she follows it by clarifying to anyone within earshot, “I mean ‘gay‘ as in ‘totally lame‘ – not like ‘gay‘ as in the totally awesome homosexual way.”
It makes me laugh every time.
4. Little Filthy has a new baby. It’s a moose. He takes it everywhere. I put his leash on today, turned to grab my coat and when I turned back, his moose was in his mouth. I had to explain that the moose did not go outside. Moose sleeps in the bed with us.
This is a sad, sad family. heh.

1. Today on the train, I overhead a man speaking. He said, “…it was a huge fuckin’ snake! Like, a boa constripper!”
That’s right.
A boa constripper.
Bow-AH Con-STRIP-pah.
2. Instigator and I went to lunch today and then for coffee afterward. While we were in line at Starbucks, she asked me for suggestions on what to get her husband for Christmas. I said, without hesitation, “A blow job. Give him a blow job.” She rolled her eyes and ignored me and said, “Really! What should I get him!” I said, “Coupons. For blow jobs.”
She stared at me. I said, “LOOK, get him what he really wants!”
And then I proceeded to poke my tongue against the inside of my cheek.
She said, “I am going to leave you standing right here – alone, talking to yourself.”
So I stopped.
Then she said, “I think I’m going to get him a pink sweater.”
*Blink*
And then I started again.
But then I stopped because I was waiting for my coffee from the barista and what’s the fun of doing that without a work girlfriend?
3. The first thing I do upon waking is to feed the dog his breakfast. He knows this. So now, when my alarm goes off, there is no hitting snooze. I’ve effectively proven Pavlov’s theory and my alarm clock is Little Filthy’s ringing bell. The alarm goes off and within seconds, Little Filthy has his nose in my hair, my neck, my face, everywhere.
*sigh*
It’s my own fault.
I’m a great cook.

I showed this to Little Filthy. He stared at it. Then he stared at me. And then he went to get a drink and use his box.
I take it that’s a “No, I’m not doing that.”
Man, I thought my niece would love that.
No. No bath please.

However, he loves being dried off and given a towel massage.

I told Instigator today that I was buying Christmas gifts now so that they would be delivered when I am in NYC this week. That way, I can wrap them and my sister will be surprised, as well. (She normally ends up wrapping the gifts I ship there.) It’s all about proper planning.
Instigator asked if my niece and nephew would also be opening the gifts when I was there. I said no, they would have to wait until Christmas but I was getting gifts now.
Then I said, “We’ve all already exchanged Christmas lists. We don’t have time to dilly dally. Christmas is very un-romantic in my family. We swap lists, we swap money. It’s a transaction. If Christmas was sex, it’d be prostitution.”
I know. It’s hard to believe that Christmas is not a big thing for me. Especially considering how I took time to explain Easter to Little Filthy. (“Jesus, cave, blah blah, third day, blah, stone rolled away, blah blah, if he sees his shadow, there are six more weeks of winter.”)
Here’s the thing… we aren’t particularly religious. This means the whole Jesus thing? We’re not convinced. There. I said it. Well, at least, my sister and I are open to other options. Excuse us if we’re cynical. It happens after each spending four years attending and collectively giving over a quarter of a million dollars to Notre Dame – and getting donation cards in the mail from the University every other week. Of course, there was also that priest the performed the Black Market Baptism on my sister’s kids for a generous donation to his mission in Sri Lanka. Then there are all of the hypocrites. Basically, I don’t care what you believe – as long as you treat people well. (And, by the way? Seems Jesus agrees. Matthew Chapter 25: 31-46. I knew studying theology would be helpful at some point.)
So, yeah. Christmas? EH. I could take it or leave it.
Having said all that… when I look at my niece, who is 3 1/2 right now, I still want her to feel that Christmas is a special time of year. I want her to be excited on Christmas morning. I want her to believe in Santa Claus. I want her to look forward to giving gifts and experiencing the happiness that comes with giving. And yes, I hope it will be a year round thing and not just once a year. I want her to be mesmerized by a Macy’s store window. I can’t really help it. I want her to like Christmas.
I know I said I could take or leave Christmas. But really, Christmas probably isn’t for the taking or leaving – it’s for the giving. So I’m giving it to my niece and my nephew in all its glory. I’m giving it in the form of decorations, traditions, colorful paper, big family dinners and lots of time together. I might just end up loving Christmas.
I’ll let you know.
Picture is the same as in the Bill Murray post so I’ve now placed this behind a cut. heh.
Just a random attorney writing about daily life with Little Filthy, my rotten dog.