Wednesday, 24 December 2014

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/24/14

I have an early Christmas present for everyone.

Are you ready? I’m so excited.

But first: a short story.

Every Fool down in Fooville loved Christmas, it’s true

But there was one grumpy fool who couldn’t make do

The witch who lived in a cave on Sneed Mountain

Couldn’t stand to see happiness, she’d rather drown in a fountain (I know, shut up)

Her heart was so cold, it was blacker than soot

Abandoning her daughters, she was never hard put

But alas, every Christmas, she’d try to engage

With the children she’d left off to simmer and rage

On this joyous year she had one mild success

Inviting herself to spend time with excess

“Oh, how I miss them.” The old hag would cry it

“My poor absent grandchildren, I just may riot.”

So the old bat came down from her cave for one day

Then two days, then three. She might visit till May

On the eve of eve’s Christmas the old bag arrived

Knocking on the door like some poor child deprived

Behind her, an army of one man approached

The father, so silent, judgmental, and poached

“Oh darling the house is in such disrepair

And however’d you manage to muck up your hair?”

The girl kissed her dad’s cheek both once and then twice

Ignoring her mother’s unwelcome advice

Mom questioned the tree and the stockings and all

The poor daughter wished she would just take a fall

Down the stairs or a well or perhaps off a cliff

But would mother fulfil her Christmas wish? As if

So the family suffered an onslaught of advice

Trying to stay silent for their words were not nice

She invaded the home like an army of rats

Picking apart all the thises and thats

Mom just wouldn’t stop all her squeaking and squawking

Finally the daughter had had enough of her talking

She slammed the door shut in the face of her family

And went out in search of some old fashioned therapy

She scoured the streets looking this way and left

For one measly morsel that won't leave her bereft

She walked and she walked down two roads and a street

Till she found some salvation with the caffeine elite

She ordered a drink and smiled at the clerk

And seductively asked what time he was off work

He smirked and he sneered and he said “pretty soon

Then I’ll be all yours.” I pretended to swoon

At the end of his shift, I waited out back

And I showed him a trick that made him go slack

I took a lead pipe from the end of a brick

And I hit him so hard, so fast, and so quick

He fell to the ground with a splatter of noise

And I wished him good will filled with peace and with joys

Then I walked away, with my coat tucked in tight

So no one could see the remains of our fight

The street was still filled with a person or two

None who took notice of the boy turning blue

A bum, and a strum, and a vague fashionista

But that is how Barry was no longer Barista


That was my surprise.

I killed Barry the Barista yesterday.

I’m so excited.

Can you tell?

Mom was just pissing me off so much that I walked out and ended up at the coffee shop and the next thing I knew, I was bashing his face in with a pipe. It was incredible. I have missed the sensation of blood on my hands. Scrubbing my nails raw. I finally feel like – despite my mother – I’m more in control.

And the best news is, this still doesn’t waver from my original plan of letting Daniel know that the tables have turned.

I took away his coffee boy.

It’s a definite start.

But after all that rhyming I’m exhausted so I’m going to go open the liquor cabinet and begin the Christmas Eve festivities with my family.

Have a happy holidays!

And, as always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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