It is 4:32 and I am listening to Christmas Carols. So it’s the holidays and I wish you all a very merry Christmas and hope the New Year is the best year yet. As the new, infant year kills the aged and feeble last year off many of you have wondered what Christmas in New Prussia is like. Now I covered this in a prior blog about this time last year but I will rehash the basics of it. For complete coverage see my entry on 12-25-2005. With this in mind, break out the Belgium Ale and gather along the French border for the Yule Time Conquest.
Papa Czar gives toy weapons to all good Prussian children. He rides a warhorse on most occasions but for Christmas he has a special vehicle he rides around in, an armored sled (made by BMW) pulled by 9 warhorses. Legend has it their names are Panzer, Blitzkrieg, Fritz, Otto, Fredrick, Rommel, Kaiser, Jagermiester and Luther. As you can see, the legends grow.
My Christmas list has not changed much. I still want a province in central Europe, the destruction of the U.N, a magical sword etc. This year I’m adding that I want a date, one single date with a cute girl. No, I would settle for one conversation with a cute girl this year.
For my next section I must preface this by saying that within the realm of cussing, swearing, and four letter words, I do not consider this to be a cuss word. Not a great word but not a cuss word by any means. So give your warm round of applause to my new segment:
You Might Be A Bastard….
These are similar to you might be a redneck jokes, only with bastards. I must admit I’ve never really been a bastard so this might take some time for me to think of some situations but they will go like this:
If you honk your horn to pick up your date, you might be a bastard.
If your name is Kim Jong Ill, you might be a bastard.
If you fill a water balloon with urine, you’re most likely a bastard.
If you after years of being exiled you return to your family just in time to steal their inheritance then you might be a bastard.
So you get the idea.
And now it’s time for, Great Moments in OCD History:
I was at work the other day when I got the call to put more toilet paper in the women’s restroom. Now I’m able to do this, it bothers me a little bid but not to bad. So we have these to plastic tubs that go through the toilet paper in the TP dispenser to make it easy to pull out. So I pull both of these plastic tubes out to place the paper roll onto them. Much to my dismay, my fumbling fingers drop one. Everything went into slow motion. I reach for it, “Noooooooooo!” I yell in angst as I watch it tumble and plummet into the toilet next to me splashing into the disease filled murk of the porcelain abyss. It floated on the surface, mocking me as anxiety set in. Fortunately there was nothing in the toilet. What could I do? I briefly considered just flushing it down but realized that would not work and would also be difficult to explain to my manager. I decided I only had option. I had to fish it out. So I went and put on the gloves and trembling and quivering I reached into the toilet and pulled the dumb thing out, washed it off, put paper on it and set it back in the metal dispenser. I then washed my hands like a surgeon. To her credit, one co-worker, Jessica, volunteered to fish it out for me but I knew it was something I had to make myself do. Please send flowers to my funeral.
Well that’s about it for now folks. I hope your Holidays are happy and germ free and that Papa Czar brings you all the weapons you want!
