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- Mar 19, 2011
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- 03' BMW 525i touring . 17' BMW M2
Christmas starts when they play Wham - last Christmas 10 times a Day, than it's time for me to get my Christmas Presents stuff together
HAhahahaha, if TOW Missiles weren't prohibitively expensive I'd use them. But I can't afford that much per shot, I have to stick with the cheaper reindeer-seeking Stingers."Your mistletoe is no match for my T.O.W. missile!"
Christmas starts when they play Wham - last Christmas 10 times a Day, than it's time for me to get my Christmas Presents stuff together
I hate that song so much.
I hate that song so much.
I love Christmas for what my immediate family makes of it. The commercialisation could really get on my nerves if I didn't mostly ignore it, e.g. my awesome parents are always supportive but usually nobody spends a lot on presents in my family. Plus, the only people we've had over every Christmas for years are quite interesting to talk to; not "have to invite them" relatives.
See, that I think is the formula for having a happy Christmas: don't make gift giving a priority. Sometimes just the act of being there is the best gift for your parents, it is for mine.
I almost sort of prefer it to "Wonderful Christmastime" Kind of.
Much the same way I prefer gonorrhea over syphilis, or the Insight over the Prius.
I'm going to go on record as saying calling presents, "Pressies" makes you the biggest pussy in the world.
The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve. I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn't home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That's when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He'd been climbing down the chimney... his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly. And that's how I found out there was no Santa Claus.
Gremlins, 1984
THIS! God, I'd forgotten how much I love that game.I miss ... playing mahjongg ...