The joy of Christmas has swiftly left like an expensive date absconding from the restaurant moments before the bill arrives, whilst simultaneously the depression is only just kicking in - akin to the bailiff forcing entry to your domicile after you are unable to pay your Christmas gained debts. So another year almost finished and another year closer to impending doom if the Mayan prophecy is to be believed, and when I say Mayan prophecy I actually mean drugged up college student prophecy; as logic would dictate that just because your 2010 calendar ends on 31st December 2010 it doesn’t mean the world will following suit, so why should it be any different for an ancient calendar? But I digress, following below are a few things that I ort to get around to finally doing in 2011;
Go to Australia
I’m not a man’s man by any definition of the term – I couldn’t down fifty pints of fourex and still be capable of smoking a chicken on a BBQ. Nor could I tackle a spider with a body circumference double the circumference of the glass I’m trying to catch it in. And unlike a resilient TV dinner I’m opposed to extreme temperatures. However with all that in mind I’ve wanted to visit Oz for many years now – with its yellow brick roads and winged monkeys, and 2011 seems like a good as time as any. Though how well I’ll fair in an English speaking country where the language is spoken in an accent often so unintelligible that I would have more chance understanding the musings of a person suffering from the pathological condition idioglossia is a riddle best not attempted to be answered. First I should probably purchase a passport as drowning on a smuggling boat does not make for an ideal holiday.
Put up those shelves
You know to which shelves I am referring, the ones you’ve been meaning to erect for some time now in order to create ‘floor space’ but due to a busy schedule you’ve put it to the back of your mind and let the laziness take over; which is probably how institutional discrimination begins. The seeds of the project are already planted; I have the boards of wood and the vision of where they shall be hung like the protagonist of a failed game of hangman. However my acedia prevents me from accomplishing this and thus I have to share the same floor space with vases filled with various plants and tins of food making it resemble the nuclear fallout shelter of an insane botanist.
Buy an Exotic Pet
I’ve had all manner of pets before but none of those have ever been of the exotic variety. There is something about owning a Snake that just feels greater than owner a pair of Guinea Pigs named Patty and Chips. It’s also rather hard to claim to be a Warrior of the Darkness and Scourge of Humanity when forced to feed and care for a hoard of kittens instead of tossing a vagrant to a Llamhigyn Y Dwr dwelling in the basement. It’s as appropriate an image as a range of Clive Barker children’s birthday cards. So this coming year I am determined to become the proud owner of either a Burmese python or an uromastyx lizard. Because as I’ve always held claim to; nothing suggests loving companionship between man and beast quite like a creature that would kill me given half the chance.
Change my birthday date
In a world where you would be hard pressed to find examples of the cruel and merciless rule of Darwinism at work, birthdays seem pointless. Celebrating another year of living feels forced, especially when the most danger we face in our day to day lives is accidentally hearing a Kesha song. Granted a birthday in modern society brings promise of small wealth and celebrations, but with my birthday taking place two days after the beheading of Saint Anastasia (and this little holiday known as Christmas) the majority of people I knew are already in debt enough without having to reward me for not being stupid enough to die whilst partaking in a game of extreme ironing. There is also the fact that on my birthday people are too fatigued from the tremendous levels of energy it takes to celebrate Christmas to actually muster the strength to involve themselves in an activity of my choice; because clearly ripping wrapping paper to shreds and gorging yourself with Marlon Brando sized helpings of food requires the energy one would use to summon Beleth. It has been suggested to me that I have my official birthday on the actual birthday date but celebrate it somewhere in the summer, which sounds like a lot of work just to get given a gift which was probably gained by the giver as a lagniappe– but then at least I could knock the Queen from her two birthday monopoly. The selfish bitch.
Look above for the face of selfishness.
Go to Australia
I’m not a man’s man by any definition of the term – I couldn’t down fifty pints of fourex and still be capable of smoking a chicken on a BBQ. Nor could I tackle a spider with a body circumference double the circumference of the glass I’m trying to catch it in. And unlike a resilient TV dinner I’m opposed to extreme temperatures. However with all that in mind I’ve wanted to visit Oz for many years now – with its yellow brick roads and winged monkeys, and 2011 seems like a good as time as any. Though how well I’ll fair in an English speaking country where the language is spoken in an accent often so unintelligible that I would have more chance understanding the musings of a person suffering from the pathological condition idioglossia is a riddle best not attempted to be answered. First I should probably purchase a passport as drowning on a smuggling boat does not make for an ideal holiday.
Put up those shelves
You know to which shelves I am referring, the ones you’ve been meaning to erect for some time now in order to create ‘floor space’ but due to a busy schedule you’ve put it to the back of your mind and let the laziness take over; which is probably how institutional discrimination begins. The seeds of the project are already planted; I have the boards of wood and the vision of where they shall be hung like the protagonist of a failed game of hangman. However my acedia prevents me from accomplishing this and thus I have to share the same floor space with vases filled with various plants and tins of food making it resemble the nuclear fallout shelter of an insane botanist.
Buy an Exotic Pet
I’ve had all manner of pets before but none of those have ever been of the exotic variety. There is something about owning a Snake that just feels greater than owner a pair of Guinea Pigs named Patty and Chips. It’s also rather hard to claim to be a Warrior of the Darkness and Scourge of Humanity when forced to feed and care for a hoard of kittens instead of tossing a vagrant to a Llamhigyn Y Dwr dwelling in the basement. It’s as appropriate an image as a range of Clive Barker children’s birthday cards. So this coming year I am determined to become the proud owner of either a Burmese python or an uromastyx lizard. Because as I’ve always held claim to; nothing suggests loving companionship between man and beast quite like a creature that would kill me given half the chance.
Change my birthday date
In a world where you would be hard pressed to find examples of the cruel and merciless rule of Darwinism at work, birthdays seem pointless. Celebrating another year of living feels forced, especially when the most danger we face in our day to day lives is accidentally hearing a Kesha song. Granted a birthday in modern society brings promise of small wealth and celebrations, but with my birthday taking place two days after the beheading of Saint Anastasia (and this little holiday known as Christmas) the majority of people I knew are already in debt enough without having to reward me for not being stupid enough to die whilst partaking in a game of extreme ironing. There is also the fact that on my birthday people are too fatigued from the tremendous levels of energy it takes to celebrate Christmas to actually muster the strength to involve themselves in an activity of my choice; because clearly ripping wrapping paper to shreds and gorging yourself with Marlon Brando sized helpings of food requires the energy one would use to summon Beleth. It has been suggested to me that I have my official birthday on the actual birthday date but celebrate it somewhere in the summer, which sounds like a lot of work just to get given a gift which was probably gained by the giver as a lagniappe– but then at least I could knock the Queen from her two birthday monopoly. The selfish bitch.
Look above for the face of selfishness.
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