Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, Christmas. Late or not, it's still nice to hear. Plus, I am a firm believer in the idea that Christmas hasn't officially ended until the tree in the living room gets taken down. Which in my case is a task that usually gets left until mid-February. So again, Merry Christmas everyone.
It's gonna last a while.
In Christmas-related news, I'd like to post the following public letter to all books in existance:
Check out what Mum and Dad got me for Christmas:
RIGHT?! Not that I'll be rushing to throw away the books I already own or anything, but there's something delightfully apathetic about the whole idea of a touch-screen novel. Do you know, you can skip from chapter to chapter with just the touch of a button? And to think, all these years I've been using my hands to turn pages like a sucker. Well no more. From now on, the only workout my fingers are going to get will be from lifting a glass of champagne - and if I can eventually find a long enough straw, they won't even have to do that. The future is bright, my friends. Mostly because of the fluorescent lighting they use at the psychiatric ward I am bound to end up in.
In terms of other Christmas presents, I was spoiled rotten this year. Anyone who's friends with me on Facebook will have already seen the multiple photos I posted of the antique manicure set that Alex got for me. Among other things, I also recieved copious amounts of alcohol and credit for the iTunes music store; perfect gifts for an alcoholic who recently lost her iPhone and every one of the 2000 songs stored on it. What else? Oh! One of my favourite presents came from Boyfriend, who gave me 3 blank notebooks and a copy of Edward Scissorhands on DVD - Edward Scissorshands because I'd mentioned a few days earlier that it was probably my fourth favourite movie of all time, and the blank notebooks (in his words) to 'encourage my writing habit'. This excited me for 2 reasons:
1) Most guys who read anything I've written think I'm either crazy or on some pretty strong medication. And
2) ...Most guys who read anything I've written think I'm either crazy or on some pretty strong medication.
Here's a guy who has not only read most of my blogs AND still agreed to hang out with me after...but he's actually encouraging this madness? I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes. He's crazy. Or on some pretty strong medication.
Alright. Now that I'm done being all disgusting and romantic, lets talk about marriage. For those of you not in the know, two of my mates Julia and Nathan are getting their wed-lock on this Saturday. That in itself is exciting enough news, but there's one more thing that will make theirs the Wedding Of The Century, and thats the 3-tiered wedding cake Julia showed me a photo of last week. Because who doesn't love a good wedding cake, right? Oh, also, I hope you're coming to the reception, because
I'm the MC, bitches!!!
MC. Master of Ceremonies. Do you know what this means? Do you know what this means? Crystal-Meth jokes, and lots of 'em!
One thing it does mean is that I'll be handed a microphone and asked to introduce the newly-married couple as they enter the reception room. In whichever manner I so choose. Right now I'm tossing up between 'Oprah Winfrey' and 'That Guy Who Yells Get Ready To Rumble At The Beginning Of Boxing Matches'. It's a tough call - I think Oprah is the obvious choice, but I'd have to fly up onto the stage via jetpack and start handing out free Cadillacs to all the guests in order to really nail the imitation. Do-able, but I might have trouble getting my hands on a jetpack by Saturday.
The other reason I'm excited is finally having an opportunity to demonstrate my collection of wedding/marriage-related puns and jokes; most of which have been stolen from 90's rom-coms and old episodes of Friends. Knock knock. Who's there?
I'll tell you at the wedding.