Tis the season to be jolly …
and by ‘jolly,’ I mean batshit crazy

Well well well, looky who finally decided to update his blog! Sorry, y’all, but it took me this long to recover from my ca-ray-zay in-sane night out with Bossy and company.

Actually, that’s a crock (though it was a whole lotta fun); truth is, I’ve just plain had — and continue to have — way too many plates spinning. Let’s review:

Remember the whole iMac nightmare this past summer, and the brain aneurysm it almost caused me, and the external hard drive that descended from the heavens and saved the day? Well, shortly before we departed for our week-long Thanksgiving visit with the in-laws in Philly, this happened:

Doorstop

Yeah. So that was pretty awesome.

And blah blah bought another one, and blahbadee-blah-blah more geek speak about hard drives and recovering files and yadda yadda yadda and can I please please pretty please have all those lost hours of my life back, please?

Anyway, it wasn’t until we returned home from Philly the day before yesterday that I finally was able to finish sorting that mess out, and if all this here computer equipment doesn’t work flawlessly for at least the next six months, I’m going back to parchment and quill (which is a total lie, because I had to write a check today, and my hand cramped up like a distorted claw as I tried to scrawl out the many characters that so easily appear when I simply type them on this here keyboard, so it’s clear to me that I’m on the cutting edge of a human evolutionary cycle whose purpose is to phase out the antiquated motor skills required for writing longhand).

But, hey, enough about that, because LOOK! YUMMY DEAD ANIMAL!

Gobble gobble

Yes, that’s just wrong … but if there is anything more delicious-smelling than a turkey roasting in the oven all day, I’ve yet to discover it, and if there is anything more deliciously satisfying than finally getting to eat that turkey after smelling it all day as you try to tide yourself over with cashews and margaritas and shrimp cocktail and margaritas, plus also margaritas, then my taste buds have yet to experience it. My mouth is watering just from typing this sentence (or maybe that’s just me drooling on myself again; it happens). Suffice to say, the bird was terminated with extreme prejudice, as were the accompanying trimmings, and did I mention yum freakin’ yum?

So, yeah, between the Bossy Bonanza and the Please Touch Museum and the bacchanalian orgy of food and drink that is Thanksgiving, our week with the in-laws was delightful. We even capped it with a visit at my brother- and sister-in-law’s house, during which my poor, deprived son and I got our fix of the Wii.

Yes, we’re, like, the last family on earth to not have a Wii, or any other game system, for that matter … and that might have to do not only with the fact that we were holding out until the kids were old enough for it to make sense to spend the money on one, but perhaps also because a certain Daddy becomes life-alteringly addicted to playing video games when he shares a roof with a game system … which, relatively speaking, is actually a good thing when one considers that I could instead be addicted to booze or heroin or the “Twilight” saga.

But my iron will shall soon be tested, for I have a little secret to share with you: Santa is bringing the Wii this year. Oh yes. In fact, it’s entirely possible that he already has surreptitiously placed it in our basement, along with “Guitar Hero 5” and “Mario Super Sluggers” and “Wii Sports Resort,” and when one considers the gargantuan amount of sheer willpower it has taken me to not one single time during the month-and-a-half or so that all of that video-gaming goodness has been sitting in the basement bust that bad boy out for a test drive, one should be reassured that my willpower may not be a problem. Either way, the games shall soon begin, and the rock shall soon commence, and the neighbors shall soon be blessed with the sights and sounds of an almost-40-year-old man (ugh) going buck wild on a fake guitar while shredding some “Guitar Hero: Van Halen” (free with our purchase of “Guitar Hero 5”! It’s like the damn thing is paying for itself!).

Between now and the morning after the fat man slides down the chimney, however, I will be pulling large patches of hair out of my scalp and sporting some even-larger-than-usual bags under my eyes, for I made the insane decision to take on a hugely complicated side job this month for which I’ve set a series of unrealistic deadlines that already are threatened because of my many other responsibilities, as well as my dedication to this here blog … which, as you can see, I’ve spruced up all pretty like for the holiday season … because I care.

So intimidating was the thought of taking on this job that I gave the client an estimate that was basically a dare, which part of me hoped would scare him off … but, noooooo, Mr. Not Afraid of the Big Fee went for it, and since Santa is kinda leaving it up to Wonder Woman and I to procure all of this year’s gifts, I had to bite the bullet.

And that just barely scratches the surface of the chaos that this month will entail. Stick around. It should be pretty entertaining … for you. For me? Not so much.

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