Gummi Bears are good for your liver. I heard it from a horse.

Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, the reason I haven't been around that much lately is because I found god (again.)? And that maybe god told me you are a bad influence on me and I should only communicate with people who have palindrome names/wear white pants after labor day/list Monkey as their favorite book/own a canoe, a Marvin Gaye CD and every movie ever made starring Tom Arnold? Or that I was captured by enemy (Luxembourg) forces while vacationing (don't worry, I wouldn't really vacation in Luxembourg, that was just my cover) and used as a bargaining chip with the Ukraïne until the CIA sent an extraction team for me? Or that I have been busy shopping for your Christmas present (It takes a lot of time and energy and time and money and time and gloworm "helpers" and did I mention time, to think of the perfect gift and then purchase and build it, not to mention the attempts at wrapping such an umm, extravagant present. And yes, I said build, and no, I'm not telling you anything else)? Or that maybe I developed a rare disease which required hospitalization and lots and lots of drugs to make the hallucinations of elephants and Ashley Tisdale singing "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" stop? Or that I am actually Diane Sawyer and was too busy interviewing Mike Huckabee's son to take time to blog and wouldn't that explain a lot, like the grudge I have against Renee Zellweger's bastard son because maybe I interviewed him once and he threw up on my new shoes and kept asking to go you-know-where instead of answering my questions? Did you ever think about that? Did you? No, I didn't think so. You never think, do you? Don't you feel like crying now? Oh. Maybe it's just me that feels like crying now. Well fine. Be that way.


Anyway. Not to change the subject or anything, but please, let's change the subject. Let's talk about how I dyed my hair yesterday and got a new carpet yesterday and bought myself a Christmas present yesterday and lost a sofa yesterday but gained a toothbrush yesterday and you would think these things don't go together, but oh yes, they do, especially if it was yesterday. And it was. But now it's today and the other patients here at ShadyBrook Psychiatric Farm want to use the computer too (it's monday you see), so I have to get off and go finish making my paper mache donkey for my dad's Christmas present. I wanted to make him a ceramic monkey, but a.)We're not allowed to play with ceramics since that time that one patient smashed another patient over the head with a ceramic Michael Jackson head, and b.)The doctor said I really need to try to steer clear of monkeys in any form for a while.


Oh, and speaking of monkeys, I know you have been wondering what to get me, the girl who has everything (if everything in this sentence equals Mickey Mouse earmuffs, then that's about right) for Christmas. Well, let me make it easy for you, a piece of the Berlin Wall would be just great, because I've always wanted a pet rock and you know what's better than a pet rock? A celebrity pet rock. But if it asks me to start calling it B-Lo or Berlin Wall P Diddy, I'm sending it back. To Berlin. Thanks.


Until we meet again, mes amis. May your days be filled with Tootsie Pops and cotton candy and fabric softener, and may all your Christmases taste like tiramisu and smell like someone's grandma's cookies (but not mine, unless you like the smell of dead grandma cookies. Mmm, dead grandma cookies) and feel like The Velveteen Rabbit, before he got all rancid and diseased and joined forces with The Toaster and killed the little boy, the mom, the doctor, the fairy, and all the real bunnies in the forest (What? That didn't happen in your copy of the book?).