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You Are Not Alone

Some things happened yesterday while I was practicing all of my rebellious apocalyptic antics. Terrifying things, then hilarious things, then sheer miraculous things. The world gave me what I assumed were three parting gifts.

Gift #1

I could have used my words to describe this present. I could have eloquently explained the horror upon horror I stepped in found awaiting me around every corner of my apartment yesterday. But instead, I took photos of it for you.

cat puke

Casts love to get high on ipecac.

Why would this happen? Why would Ace or Jack or both of them have a vomit marathon? I wanted to be furious. I wanted to stop gagging. I wanted to quit cleaning it up. After all, the world was supposed to end, so  I thought, “what’s the point”. That’s when I realized it. The felines must have read my post from yesterday and decided to give all of their fucks away… on every surface of my apartment. It was my own fault.

Gift # 2

Once I successfully scraped up all of that plastered puke, I needed to get out in the fresh air and find dinner. But, the first step to anything is checking Facebook. So that is what I did. There he was. Le Clown again, being all savior like. He successfully saved me from my kitty bile induced melancholy with one of his masterly constructed and equally hilarious secular Xmas cards.

le clown secular chrismas

Someone bring me a Zippo. HURRY.

If cancer isn’t real, then where did all that Movember money go? Busted, Le Clown! I know you used that nice chunk of change to stock up on Astroglide. Alas, I can never stay mad at you. Thank you for being you, Jesus Clown Super Star On Fire.

Gift # 3 Read the rest of this entry

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Picture This…

Why is there so much badassery going on in the WordPress crib right now? Is everyone not aware that December is supposed to be the Friday of the months of the year? It is supposed to be the free pass month for all things lazy, self-indulgent, and greedy. Y’all are messing that up for me (at least the lazy part), but you know what? It is worth it. Because I love you. There I said it.

Speaking of all things badass, there is yet another event happening that I couldn’t not participate in. Julie and Byronic Man, I am talking to you. I am after your sheets. If those reading this don’t know what I am talking about, that’s a shame, but I’ll forgive you if you visit one of their pages and educate yourself. So generous.

You see, just last night Jack decided to practice his own self indigent behavior. The little fellow wore himself out making confetti of my softest-sheets-ever and didn’t hesitate when he got to the pillow cases. To top it off, like a cherry on top of a resentment sundae, he puked right in the middle of the shredded pile and then pranced off to destroy the rest of my favorite things.

I may not sleep under my sheets, but they are still an integral component of the optimal sleep environment. So, come to think of it, I am not being greedy at all. I need those sheets. Plus, who wouldn’t want to sleep on top of one of Julie’s adorable chipmonks or the hottest guy on WordPress Byronic Man?

As the rules state, I have harnessed every ounce of holiday cheer to bring you the 25toFly Christmas Card. Here it is:

funny christmas 25tofly

A special greeting for you at my family’s expense.

Do you know what it is like to have your photo taken at every worst possible moment? Have you ever experienced the trauma of being blinded by the flash in the middle of your mascara “O” face (you know you do this ladies)? It’s impressive, really. The man you all want to have a beer with so badly can even manage to take a bad picture of himself. You may still like my Dad more than you like me, but if you keep hanging out with him for too long, you can kiss your photogenic-ness goodbye.

bad christmas pics

Dad has been capturing our sweet little distorted mug shots since the 90′s!

As if this post didn’t including enough of y’alls favorite things (my dad, contests, sexy people) I am going to leave this (rough version) here for you to ponder. The placement of mistletoe is in no way suggestive of anything other than the pure Christmas spirit.

fly blog award

Just kidding. It’s sexual innuendo.

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