Kneel Before the Awesomeness of my Big Ass Title ...

Very surreal Christmas, sitting here in the kitchen watching old wrestling tapes and drinking Pepsi alone.

MOOD: content with a hint of lonely

BACKGROUND: DMB "Under the Table and Dreaming"

I'm just not feeling it, you know? Not feeling the love of Christmas. Not feeling the Christmas spirit and the Christmas love and all that other bullship they teach you to feel. Just sitting here, doing some breathing exercises to calm me down, letting Dave Matthews seep into my mellow haze, and trying to convince myself mentally that this Pepsi next to be is actually a big fucking bottle of Miller Genuine Draft. It's not working, though.

And when I think back at it, this is the first Christmas I've spent single since I started high school in 1991. Is that the reason why I'm moving so slow, breathing so heavily, so clammy and stiff? Is that the reason I keeep walking outside to get some air, finding myself staring too long at the sky? Is that why thoughts of Deb and Col are wrapping around my feet, weighing me down like concrete?

Saw the damm two towers film today. It was okay. I used to be a literate, intellectual, cultured, asshole movie guy, the type of guy who watches foriegn films and loves Fellini and searches out independant films and talks loudly in resturaunts. Now I just want a good fucking explosion and some tits, not some three hour long computer generated blowjob, you know? It was a good film, a big sweeping epic type thing and I respect that. And it was visually astounding. But I would have rather watched the Jackass movie twice instead. Sorry, but that's just me.

This wasn't the Christmas I remembered. Maybe that's because the last five Christmas-es I spent drunk. Maybe this is what happens as you get older, that it just becomes another day. Maybe I just need a blowjob. Maybe I need to get shit faced drunk tonight.

Maybe this is my life now and I had better get used to it.