Holiday Stories

Last year my mom's family had their annual Christmas party at my aunt's house.
My aunt's kind of a perfectionist, and she kind of goes a little crazy (not serial-killer crazy, more like Rain Man crazy) when things aren't working out as she had perfectly planned them to go. (This planning typically takes place 6-9 months before the actual event, no matter how big the actual event is, and it is very thorough, down to the minute she plans to fall asleep.) Having a few cousins with very young children at her house did not fit so well into her plans (of course, when do 3-year-olds playing with dishwasher knobs fit into anyone's plans?). As this was somewhat disastrous, this question came about this year: Where do we have a Christmas party for a fairly large family that will be fun for all and accomodating to young children?

The obvious answer: How 'bout a Kentucky prison?

Most families would dismiss this with a laugh. My dad's side of the family (which, God bless them, they're kind of the redneck side of the family - but in their defense, they are the coolest rednecks EVER!)would fall down laughing at the proposterous idea of having Christmas in a prison. My mom's side of the family (infamous for tipping with nickels and pennies) however, saw dollar signs when they found out that the prison would be free for our family.

After the initial stages of denial, anger, bargaining, and depression, I came to accept the fact that my family was indeed going to spend their Christmas party with rapists and killers in Northern Kentucky. Later I realized how exciting this could actually be, as how many people have families that will rent out the prison staff room for their Christmas parties. To prepare for the festive occasion, my roommate and I wrote a song that I would like to share with you. It is sung remarkably like "The Twelve Days of Christmas".

On the first day of Christmas my cell-mate gave to me-
A brief reprieve from sodomy.

On the second day of Christmas my cell-mate gave to me -
2 black eyes
and a brief reprieve from sodomy.

On the third day of Christmas my cell-mate gave to me -
3 French kisses
2 Black eyes
And a brief reprieve from sodomy.

On the fourth day of Christmas my cell-mate gave to me -
4 bags of weed
3 French kisses
2 black eyes
And a brief reprieve from sodomy

On the fifth day of Christmas my cell-mate gave to me -
5 broken teeth (ba-dum-dum-dum)
4 bags of weed
3 French kisses
2 black eyes
And a brief reprieve from sodomy
...
...
...
On the 12th day of Christmas my cell-mate gave to me -
12 hours of bleeding
11 drugs for piping
10 loads of *%@$
9 ladies (kinda)
8 soaps a slippin'
7 minutes in heaven
6 stolen meals
5 broken teeth (ba dum dum dum)
4 bags of weed
3 French kisses
2 black eyes
And a brief reprieve from sodomy.

Unfortunately, my song-writing career ends here. Oddly enough, the prison staff room is already booked the date we want our Christmas party. We're just having Christmas at Granny's again this year.

In other holiday news:
My Mom asked me where we should spend Thanksgiving. I suggested perhaps the gambling boat in Cincinnati or a brothel in Atlantic City. She said we should spend it at our other gramma's, because we might not have too many more holidays with those grandparents (my brother and I responded by singing the theme song to Debbie Downer).

Wal-Mart is fully stocked with Christmas trees, but try finding a pumpkin in late October.

I attended a pumpkin carving party on Friday. I tried to carve a haunted mansion into my pumpkin, and even though it more closely resembles Cinderella's Castle, I remain thoroughly impressed with myself.

Nevada Day is quickly approaching (Special Nevada Day post coming October 31 - great way to celebrate Halloween if you don't celebrate Halloween).