I was somewhat drunk and somewhat belligerent — although in my defense, I’m somewhat belligerent even when sober — but I did not get so drunk that I wound up vomiting on the host’s front lawn like some people I could mention because really — aren’t we all getting a little too old for that kind of thing?
If you’re not seeing the video, you can watch it on YouTube.
We’re having an extended family holiday get-together today, including a gift exchange.
My wife did the gift shopping. She’s passive-aggressive about it because she really believes that other family members, especially my mom, use the holidays to clean unwanted items out of their closets, wrap them up and give them to us as Christmas presents.
I’ve explained to her that these people simply don’t have any style or taste, so even those these are items that you would stuff in the back of a closet, they actually see them as pretty nice gifts.
Here’s a rundown on what she bought this year: My ex-sister-in-law is getting a box of Harry & David pears, normally $40 but obtained at a deep discount. My great uncle is getting a box of pears. My parents and my sister’s family — a box of pears.
“And the best thing,” she says, “is it says $39.99 right on the box.”
“I assume you’re going to take that off.”
“I don’t think I can. It’s right on the box.”
“Uh . . .”
“Don’t complain. Lucky enough they’re getting anything in this economy.”
My wife and son brought home some Pillsbury cookie dough sheets (see photo) but we’ve got a problem. Even though the packaging shows cookies with festive holiday shapes (“I want the ones shaped like Christmas trees,” my son says), the sheets are not pre-cut, and we don’t have cookie cutters.
I say, “It looks like what you’re going to get are cookies shaped like rectangles.”
I tell my son I’m going to the urgent care walk-in clinic.
“What for?” he asks.
“I want to find out why I’ve gone deaf in my left ear.”
“You’ve got an ear infection,” he says. “I had one when I came back from Thailand. I was also coughing 24/7 so I had to take this insane cough syrup and ear infection pills.”
“I’m not coughing 24/7. I’ve got a lot of congestion though.”
“You’ll just get the ear infection pills then.”
“When you took them, could you feel your ear canal cracking open? Man, that’s the best! It’s almost worth it to have a clogged passage just to feel it cracking open again.”
“Yeah, but it takes a couple of days.”
The nurse takes my blood pressure. “100 over 60,” she says.
“Is that good?” I ask. (I already know it’s good . . . I just want to hear her acknowledge that, even though I’m much older than she is, I’m in excellent physical condition and could undoubtedly satisfy her sexually.)
“Yes. Now I’m going to take your pulse.” She takes it and writes it down on the chart.
“What was it?” I ask.
“Sixty-four.”
“Is that good?”
“Yes. The doctor will be right in.”
The doctor looks in my ear and tells me I have an ear infection. She gives me a prescription for antibiotics and recommends Sudafed — “the kind you have to ask for” — for the congestion.
I pick up my prescription and I ask the pharmacist for Sudafed.
“What kind?” he asks.
“The kind you have to ask for.”
(A couple of years ago, the original Sudafed, and all other products containing pseudoephedrine (PSE), was moved “behind the counter” by federal legislation because PSE can be used to produce methamphetamine, also known as crystal meth. The over-the-counter version of Sudafed is now called Sudafed PE and contains phenylephrine instead of PSE.)
So the pharmacist brings the Sudafed, asks for a photo ID, and says, “You have to initial the form there to indicate that you’re not going to resell it.”
“Really? How much do you think I could get for it?”
“Kids resell them at clubs for 3 to 10 times market value.”
“Wow. That really highlights my lack of initiative. I’m just hoping it makes the inside of my head feel less like a toasted marshmallow.”
One of my owner’s friends gave me a Christmas pug to use on my blog. My first present of the season! Thanks, MS!
The pug looks a little sad, probably because someone made him wear that stupid Santa hat. Pugs don’t like to wear hats. We may look like funny little animals, but don’t forget we are descended from the mighty gray wolf. Before you put a Santa hat on a pug, try putting a Santa hat on a wolf. That will teach you a good lesson.
Don’t think that the pug is sad because of the snow. Pugs love snow! A day in the snow is the best day ever! Now that I think about it, every day is the best day ever!
Oh, one more thing: I do NOT endorse Popdarts.com. Do not go to that site. Go to sites that support pugs.
Oops — my owner just told me that if you tell people not to do something, that just makes them want to do it even more. It’s called “reverse psychology.” That doesn’t make sense to me. Pugs can be a little stubborn, but mostly we like to do what we’re told, because it makes our owners happy.
Here’s another phrase my owner taught me recently: “eating your own dogfood.” To humans, it means doing what you tell other people to do. To dogs, it means . . . well, I guess it’s pretty obvious what it means.
Merry Christmas, everybody! I’ll post some more Christmas pug pictures later.
— Lightning 
I love this picture! Pugs love to play tug-of-war even though we’re not very good at it!
There’s also a good pug photo set here.
— Lightning
One of the cable stations had a 24-hour A Christmas Story marathon. I’ve never understood the mania some people have about this movie. I mean, it’s a nice movie, but 12 consecutive showings?!
Anyway, my son turned on the 10 p.m. showing last night and we all watched it. My wife fell asleep as she often does watching movies, but the boy enjoyed it.
Merry Christmas to everyone who’s taken the time to read this site over the past year.
According to the Los Angeles Times:
My son and I stopped by the USC Store at South Coast Plaza today. As you might expect, it was packed with people buying Christmas gifts, Rose Bowl gear and other branded merchandise.
I wonder what a UCLA Store would look like, if there were a UCLA Store. A handful of angry, miserable people milling about, checking out the Las Vegas Bowl runner-up merchandise.
FIGHT ON!
“Don’t buy us anything expensive for Christmas this year,” my mom says on the phone. “Save your money.”
I diplomatically omit the fact that every year as the Yuletide approaches, my wife starts rummaging through the closets for things she doesn’t want, then wraps them up and gives them to my parents as Christmas presents.
A christmas card from my brother-in-law, who lives with my wife’s sister and their two daughters outside Sydney:
The sun is shining. The days are long and hot. We are in the first weeks of summer and the bush fires have just started. It must mean Christmas is just around the corner.
Aliso Viejo man dies after falling while hanging Christmas lights
This cautionary tale includes a helpful tip from the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission:
Falls from ladders or rooftops are comical in the movies, but in reality, they can be a very dangerous thing.
Actually, falls from ladders and rooftops can be funny in real life too, but only when they happen to someone else.
See also: Another Reason I Let My Wife Handle the Grocery Shopping
