Back in November, I made a Christmas list just like I’ve made every year since I was a little kid. I did NOT make a “Bucket List.” I wanted to make that clear from jump street. I do regret not having the chance to share with you some of the cool stuff I got for Christmas, so let’s hop in the DeLorean, (which I’ve adorned with a festive wreath) blast the modified Huey Lewis song “Three Weeks Back in Time,” and kick it up to 88 mph.
Many of the bloggers I read have offered detailed posts about their haul of gifts they received for Christmas. For me, this year was pretty light as far as quantity goes, but heavy on the quality. The PS3 was the most prestigious gift and one I know I’ll be getting many hours of enjoyment from. I can’t wait for the games DCU Online, Legends of Wrestlemania, and Ghostbusters to be released for the system. I was also pumped that I got The Dark Knight and Step Brothers on Blu Ray. A few requisite pieces of clothing and several other perennial Christmas gift favorites came my way, and I was happy with everything. I’m not the type of person to not appreciate a gift. I’m happy to be receiving A gift let alone several of them.
First, let me tell about a couple of books that I unwrapped:
I’m a huge fan of Disneyana so The Walt Disney World Trivia Book by Louis A. Mongello was right up my alley. The first page I opened to gave me a little piece of rock and roll info: Did you know that Steve Tyler and Joe Perry rode the Aerosmith Rockin’ Roller Coaster 12 times when they came to Disney’s Hollywood Studios (MGM) for a preview? These are the kind of tidbits I like to dish out when other people are in a serious conversation about global warming. Seriously, you know the next time you go on that ride you’re going to tell whoever you’re with, or whoever’s in range of hearing your voice. There’s plenty of other obscure facts in the book that’ll definitely make you sound like a Disney expert!
The next book was a monster called 1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die: A Listener’s Life List by Tom Moon. I love books like this because they often refer me to new songs or artists that I can add to my repertoire. It’s kind of like the feeling a girl gets when she goes into a shoe store, or a place that sells pocket books like the “Pocket Book Emporium.” Take it easy ladies, I just made that up.
I’m not supporting the term that’s presently being shoved down our throats by these brilliant journalists, (even before the movie came out) “bucket lists.” How many more books and magazine article titles can we read that say “…blah blah…BEFORE YOU DIE.” The most beautiful places in the world you MUST SEE BEFORE YOU DIE.” I feel like I’m in some sort of warped death countdown. Please, we are all already aware that we are going to die someday, but I for one am trying to pretend that that day is still very far away.
I don’t appreciate that I’m being pressured into thinking that I have to cram in traveling the world, donning my cap in the old Yankee Stadium, and having a 69 with Marisa Tomei while skydiving all before I die. None of those things are going to happen, nor do I even care about experiencing the first two, or even the third for that matter. You see, the 69 would have to take place on the plane before we put on all our gear because it would be too much of a bitch to unzip and tear it all off taking terminal velocity into consideration. When we land, I’m hoping I don’t die before I can parachute right into the parking lot of the local T.G.I Fridays, detach our chutes, and walk in and declaring “hey, we aren’t weird or anything.” After being greeted by the hostess and getting a few strange looks after asking to be seated (as long as we are making our last will and testament, I’ll opt to make the “I just flew in and boy my arms are tired” joke. Marisa bowls over in laughter commenting on how cute and funny I am. She then says something to the effect “Oh my God Jay, the feeling of winning an Oscar is nothing compared to how you make me feel when I’m with you.” Then a group of ’80s looking peeps come over to our booth (I requested the booth cause I’m near death and I feel I deserve special treatment because having a booth is on my bucket list.) Well lookie who we have here! It’s Katrina and the Waves singing Walking on Sunshine, which is a song that miraculously just plays whenever we are enjoying ourselves in any context. Sometimes it just plays when we are in a park, or as a matter of fact, anywhere where there are no speakers or stereo equipment. It’s hard to not continue laughing and purposely do more stuff that’s goofy when the song is playing. We bring all the shenanigans to a gradual close with a poignant kiss, and then we order the fish tacos and share a giant strawberry lemonade.
I’m now hereby referring to it as a “FUCK IT LIST.” You see, it rhymes with bucket! This is the list of times where you say “Ah FUCK IT, I’m going to die anyway right?” If I had a Prune Face Power of the Force collectible coin for every time I’ve heard someone say that I’d have amassed the galaxy’s largest collection of Prune Face Power of the Force collectible coins. Now that’s sure to get this country’s economy right back on track. Just knowing that all of the Prune Face coins are all concentrated in one spot will allow the federal reserve to rest easy rather than to worry that the coins are scattered all over the globe in old basements, toy chests, buried in backyards, or laying at the bottom of a sewer drain.
What was my point with that whole tangent? That bucket lists are moronic, nay…the idea of making a list for personal motivation is fine but why do we constantly have to buy into people’s lame trendy, phrases? What’s on my bucket list? To find the EXACT PERSON WHO CAME UP WITH THIS STUPID FUCKING MADE UP NAME AND KICK THEIR ASS UNTIL THEY OFFICIALLY RELINQUISH THE NAME AND WRITE A NOTARIZED LETTER TO PRESIDENT-ELECT BARACK OBAMA WARNING JOURNALISTS AND COLUMNISTS NEVER, EEEEVVVVER, TO USE THIS TERM AGAAAAAIIINNN!
“…Where’s the Tylenol?”
Welcome back folks!
Perhaps the gift most worthy of mentioning here on The Armpit, just for its sheer appropriateness, was one I gave rather than received. My father and uncle were both recipients of The Sopranos Chianti. If you’re Italian and from Jersey, you are almost certainly a Sopranos fan. Actually, if you are a living, breathing, human with a modicum of
appreciation for good television, then at the very least you should respect the show. You don’t want to see what happens when you disrespect it!
Even though The Sopranos is gone, it’s spirit can live on in your wine glass during Sunday’s macaroni dinner. It’s pretty much just your basic Chianti, but it’s got an awesome Sopranos sticker on it which makes it fully connected to the show. If the makers of the Sopranos Chianti really wanted to make it something special they would’ve taken a cue from KISS in 1977 when they poured vials of their own blood into the red ink for their first Marvel comic book. All of the actors should’ve donated blood and then we could truly “drink in” the show. I’m messing with you, I obviously don’t have any interest in drinking blood! Well, I guess only if I was allowed to perform a bass solo, spit the blood out all over the place and wag my tongue. That’s 2 KISS mentions in one paragraph! Gene you now owe me $0.03 cents fucker!
My dad went all out this year and found a classic Christmas gift for me. He got me this really sharp Armitron Batman watch:
As always, I had a highly enjoyable Christmas and I was treated tremendously. I know I’m getting old when I start saying stuff like “Christmas isn’t about the gifts,” and “I’m just happy to be together with the family.” No, in all seriousness, Fah who-for-aze and all that kind of stuff! I can’t wait ’til next year!