"Sorry Jesus, Sorry We Ruined Your Birthday Again"

First of all, would not the title of this blog be an awesome Christmas song? I would like to hear it, so any of you aspiring song bitches out there, write me a song. Well...not me, but rather Christ....and a dysfunctional celebration of Christmas.

Thanks for the large number of comments on the blogoff. Oh wait, I think I got three, one from Logan, one from Joe, and one from my sissuh, Eileen. Your voices have been heard and I have responses.

Logan- Trevor is a woman. Both literally and figuratively. He was born with both parts a la Jamie Lee Curtis and life has been a misguided adventure for him ever since.

Joe- Jud Buchler was a brilliant b-ball player (in the Special Olympics he even managed to lead his team to a medal...but then again, everyone is a winner! YAY!)

Eileen- Hopefully our next blogoff can avoid sports. It will be about religion and I hope will offend people everywhere and somehow make me end up in a Tunisian prison.

My blog "competitor" (and I say that in no ways meaning at all that he even competes with the ((shitty)) quality of stuff I am posting here. This shit here is Bob Dylan writing "These Times they are a Changing". I am the (unheard, mute, retarded) voice of a generation) Jason Mulgrew (google his name and read his blog) has begun deleting comments I leave him on the networking website Myspace.com. He is obviously afraid of my (potential mental deficiencies) blogging skills and that I will replace him as king of the bloggers. Or because I leave comments like this:

"Ain't nobody gonna hold me down, I don't care if you won't be my blog mentor and when I see you (and believe me I will) I am going to make your digestive system a living hell!"

"'Jason "I scare babies" Mulgrew, you are due for a swift kick in the junk' - raves Roger Ebert!"

So, my comments were a little weird, and not even that funny now that I look at them.

So, I finally went to the doctor for the strange stomach ailment that has been ailing me since the Sunday after the Spades tournament. I thought for sure I was dying as I have had this feeling of being full (like imagine you had just eaten back to back Thanksgiving dinners) all the time. But, it turns out (the doctor was about 95% sure) that I have torn or strained up to 7 muscles on the left side of my abdomen. I got some muscle relaxers and have been ordered to cease working out for a couple weeks. Just to be sure my organs have not been liquified, I have an x-ray appointment tomorrow morning per the doctor's orders. Had I been dying (and given a timeframe of under 3 months to live) this is what I would have done:

1)Quit my job
2)Go to Vegas for a few days
3)Get a job at Subway and make strange sandwich art that would both appall people as well as taking care of their hunger
4)Audition for SNL
5)Get wasted all the time
6)Prepare a strange lis tof things to be done with my corpse including: bowling, scaring children, and getting a full length photo tattoo of Neil Diamond on my back.
7)Play dead in front of friends and family at least twice a day just to freak them out and gauge reactions.
8)Drink some more
9)Run quickly around outside in tighty whities with some fake alien hands on.
10)Maybe receive some treatment for my disease?

In terms of sports this weekend sucked. UL lost to UK. The Colts lost. But Trevor passed out in the middle of afternoon and I got to participate in the great sport of drawing on a passed out person with a Sharpie. I was definitely a big winner. If you have never played this game, here are the rules:

-Wait until a person is passed out
-Have a Sharpie ready
-Start by drawing on their eyelids. This makes it look like their eyes are open as well as being extremely difficult to wash off. It also makes the person appear to be wearing eyeliner.
-Draw them a funny mustache a sideburns.
-Write either the word "Penis" or "Cock" on their forehead.
-Also write one of these words on their arm, with a heart around it signaling their love for the encircled word.
-Be sure to giggle all the time and recoil in fear should they wake up.

I was a sure winner, but Trevor acted as a capable player 2 once I left the apartment. He responded in all the appropriate forms that are acceptable according to game play:

-Tell drawer's roommate, "Screw Tim, I am going to eat all his food" (although Trevor, not really a good attack for you, you do this shit anyways)
-Download as much gay porn as you can onto the perp's computer.

Fun times.

After listening to a lot of Christmas music the past couple of weeks, I have begun thinking of some of the best lines in the songs as well as some singers I would like to hear re-make some classics:

-"It's the Most Wonderul Time of the Year"- There is a line in this song about "scary ghost stories"...I am glad my family never included this tradition in our Christmas rituals. (Although we have gone upstairs the past 10 years or so to read the story of Jesus' birth while Santa comes.(on Christmas Eve for us) However, this past year, we read some awesome Norwegian folk tales and I hope we continue this once again this year)) I would love to hear Bob Dylan sing this song, as well as Will Ferrell imitating Robert Goulet singing this song.

I don't feel like typing anymore. And I have work to do. Have a Merry Fucking Christmas. Prepare to be offended in our next blogoff.