My Own Christmas

I know what you're thinking.
It seems like I've been blogging alot lately.
Well, the reason it seems that way is because it is that way. I have been blogging alot lately. Still, I think you should take advantage and enjoy it, because one of these days my sister is probably going to run me down with her car, and then there'll be no more blogs for anyone.
Holy balls, did you guys know it's the last day of November? 2010 here we come. I'm getting so freaking old! This sucks! I was gonna ask for a new wallet for Christmas, but now I think I'd prefer it if someone discovered the Fountain of Youth. And then gave it to me.
That's an awesome name for a band. Fountain of Youth. If there are any aspiring bands out there looking for a name, I suggest Fountain of Youth. Just give me 80% of all profits you make, and you are welcome to it.

So, I was watching Signs with my Mum earlier. Remember that movie Signs? With Mel Gibson, and the aliens? Remember? Signs? Yeah, I was watching it earlier. With my Mum. I have nothing else to say about that, except what the hell happened to Mel Gibson's career? Seriously? I think the actor who played the alien is booking more jobs than him at this point.

Anyway, back to my previous rant about Christmas and eventually having to grow up, I just realised that at some point, I'm going to have to grow up and organise my own Christmases - 'Organise my own Christmases' here meaning 'Organise who is going to feed me on Christmas'.
Holy crap! Why didn't anyone prepare me for this? Getting older totally sucks ass! I mean, I doubt my parents are going to invite me to join them at the nursing home, and if my sister's future husband is anything like her, he's not gonna want me over for the holidays. And there is no way I'm going to be throwing my own Christmas, since I can barely make grilled cheese without burning the house down. Also because by that point, I'll probably be living in a cardboard box.
I don't know how this is going to work out. Maybe I should audition for a role in the next Twilight movie so I can spend Christmas at Rob Pattinson's house. Probably. Probably I will do that. My backup plan is to stay at home and cry in the tub.
Either way, I will be naked.