To better days
My Fellow Inebriates,
- Watching Rick Perry conflate gay bashing with Christian values in under 30 seconds
- Seeing my coveted painting climb at ebay auction
- Learning that Santa’s pretend
Okay, I know, the first one’s the worst. Sure, I live in Canada, but here in the Great White North we often have a justifiably paranoid sense of piggybacking on American values, and when a stupid tool like Perry starts spouting off, I worry that at least some of my compatriots are nodding their heads in agreement.
Nice to see: Perry’s “Strong” spot netted him over 440,000 “dislikes” on YouTube. As for his 10,000+ “likes,” all I can do is raise a toast to rednecks. Too bad my dad won’t buy me any Bud.
The second item is becoming a minor personal tragedy. Somebody wants my objet d’art very badly, but I’m just a small, underfunded bear—I can’t compete with a bid like $38. As transported as I am by that painting, the alcoholic in me is automatically calculating how many bottles of wine it’s worth. Not to mention my dad said that if I used his PayPal account he would put me in the washing machine.
The third thing was just gonna happen, I guess. But seriously, how could I have known Santa wasn’t real? I mean, Canada Post delivers our letters to him, elves write back to us, NORAD tracks him for pete’s sake. Fine, I’m a naïve animal, but I didn’t expect my parents to be the dickheads who dropped the bomb.
Ample reasons, I think, to kick off the day with Smirnoff. I’m making a Salty Dog*: 2 oz each of vodka and grapefruit juice plus 2 tsp of salt. Yeah! Here’s to better days.
*substituting Malibu for vodka