Here's a fave song of mine this time of year. This, and "I Hate Christmas" by Zebrahead.

This is by a band who, when I first heard them, live on my college's lawn in May 1995, were called Blink, and promoting their first full-length CD, "Cheshire Cat."

(Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la)
(Tis the season to be jolly fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la)

Outside the carolers start to sing
I can't describe the joy they bring
Cause joy is something they don't bring me

My girlfriend is by my side
From the roof are hanging sickles of ice
Their whiny voices get irritating
It's Christmas time again

So I stand with a dead smile on my face
Wondering how much of my time they'll waste
Oh God I hate these Satan's helpers

And then I guess I must have snapped
Because I grabbed a baseball bat
And made them all run for shelter

It's Christmas time again
It's time to be nice to the people you can't stand all year
I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer
You people scare me
Please stay away from my home
If you don't wanna get beat down
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone.

Well I guess it's not cool to freak on Christmas Eve
Cause the cops came and arrested me
They had an unfair advantage

And even though the jail didn't have a tree
Christmas came a night early
Cause a guy named Bubba unwrapped my package (hot damn)

It's Christmas time again
It's time to be nice to the people you can't stand all year
I'm growing tired of all this Christmas cheer
You people scare me
Please stay away from my home
If you don't wanna get beat down
Just leave the presents and then leave me alone

I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas
I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)
I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)
I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)
I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas (please post my bail)
I won't be home
I won't be home for Christmas

It was just a little bit Friday when I tried to track down lyrics for Venus Envy's Silent Dyke or I Hate the Holidays. Almost three hours later, it's more legitimately Friday, and I still don't have those lyrics. I got distracted by Kinsey Sicks and Betty, but that's not why; the reason why is, nobody's got the damn lyrics! Shoot, I could've listened to the songs and transcribed them by now. But screw that. I found a tolerable replacement Friday holiday song, anyhow. And here it is. Ahem.

Merry Christmas From The Family

Mom got drunk and Dad got drunk
At our Christmas party
We were drinkin' champagne punch
And homemade eggnog
Little sister brought her new boyfriend
He was a Mexican
We didn't know what to think of him
Til he sang Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad

Brother Ken brought his kids with him
The three from his first wife Lynn
And the two identical twins

From his second wife Mary Nell
Of course he brought his new wife Kaye
Who talks all about AA
Chain smokin' while the stereo plays
Noel, Noel, The first Noel

Carve the turkey turn the ball game on
Mix Margaritas when the eggnog's gone
Send somebody to the Quik-Pak store
We need some ice and an extension cord
A can of bean dip and some Diet Rite
A box of pampers , some Marlboro Lights
Hallelujah everybody say cheese
Merry Christmas from the family

Fran and Rita drove from Harlingen
I can't remember how I'm kin to them
But when they tried to plug their motor home in
They blew our christmas lights
Cousin David knew just what went wrong
So we all waited on our front lawn
He threw the breaker and the lights came on
And we sang Silent Night
Oh Silent Night o' holy night

Carve the turkey turn the ballgame on
Mix Bloody Marys cause we all want one
Send somebody to the Stop 'n Go
We need some celery and a can of fake snow
A bag of lemons and some Diet Sprite
A box of midol, some Salem Lights
Hallelujah everybody say cheese
Merry Christmas from the family
Feliz Navidad

Don't you love how every song I post has some huge story behind it? Gives it that personal 'I searched for this sucker for hours so you damn well better read it' touch. :)

This CD helped me get through my week stuck in a hotel thinking about old times. I'm not home yet, but staying with a friend has been a definite upgrade from the hotel. Hopefully the mold-killing fumes will be dissipated enough that I can go home this weekend. In the meantime, I'm late for Beer and Politics Night.

I waited 'til I saw the sun
I don't know why I didn't come
I left you by the house of fun
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come

When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand

My heart is drenched in wine
But you'll be on my mind
Forever

Out across the endless sea
I would die in ecstasy
But I'll be a bag of bones
Driving down the road along

My heart is drenched in wine
But you'll be on my mind
Forever

Something has to make you run
I don't know why I didn't come
I feel as empty as a drum
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come

On a random note, the Chinese in my fortune cookie today was "Xiang-nian ni." True dat.

it's my Friday, and I have a song that's kinda about beer; that's close enough, right? I was thinking of sending this one to my ex, but I have a feeling she'd take it as a personal attack (like she takes most every joke I make since she dumped me). So I'm gifting it to IP instead (forgive the punctuation; I took a chunk out of my fingertip at work today, so I decided to cut and paste, to keep the typing to a minimum):

When I was a young girl like normal girls do
I looked to a woman's love to help get me through
I never needed any more than a feminine touch
I hated the thought of kissing a man it really was too much

I did not drink, I did not smoke I did not say "goddamn"
I was polite I was sensitive before I loved a man
My family, they were proud of me were proud of what I am
But then along came Lester and my tale of woe began

I spent my last ten dollars on birth control and beer
My life was so much simpler when I was sober and queer
But the love of a strong hairy man has turned my head I fear
And made me spend my last ten bucks on birth control and beer

It was June 1983 when Mary Lou and I did part
She said she loved another dyke--my god, it broke my heart
I was bitter and disillusioned to lose another girlfriend
Lester came to work at Papa's store and decided to ease on in

Before my last heartbreak nothing made me more sick
Than a hairy-chested, cheap double-breasted suited man with a hard dick
I guess that I was curious I guess that I was young
I guess it was that rum and coke I guess that I was dumb

I spent my last ten dollars on birth control and beer
My life was so much simpler when I was sober and queer
But the love of a strong hairy man has turned my head I fear
And made me spend my last ten bucks on birth control and beer

For of course, for a woman to love a man she must also love to booze
If a woman don't drink beside her man then she will surely lose him
As I sit in this hetero honky-tonk and reflect upon my past
I think about those girlfriends and why they didn't last

For there's certain thrills that lesbian love simply cannot supply
Like paying for abortions from sperm gone awry
And so I say to you my friends without this man I'd die
So listen to my tell of woe and hang your head and cry

I spent my last ten dollars on birth control and beer
My life was so much simpler when I was sober and queer
But the love of a strong hairy man has turned my head I fear
And made me spend my last ten bucks on birth control and beer

...but time for a song, anyway. (It's not about wine, but it *is* about drinking...)

Gather 'round ye lads and lasses, set ye for a while,
And harken to me mournful tale about the Emerald Isle.
Let's all raise our glasses high to friends and family gone,
And lift our voices in another Irish drinkin' song.

Consumption took me mother and me father got the pox,
Me brother drank the whiskey 'till he wound up in a box.
Me other brother in the Troubles met with his demise,
Me sister has forever closed her smilin' Irish eyes.

Now everybody's died, so until our tears are cried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight until the early mornin' light,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again.

Ken was killed in Killkinney, Claire she died in Clares,
Tip in Tipperary died out in the dairy air.
Shannon jumped into the river Shannon back in June,
Ernie fell into the urn and Tom is in the tomb.

Cleanliness is godliness me Uncle Pat would sing,
He broke his neck-a-slippin' on a bar of Irish Spring.
O'Grady he was eighty, 'tho his bride was just a pup,
He died upon the honeymoon when she got his Irish up.

Now everybody's died, so until our tears are cried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight until the early mornin' light,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again.

[Hockey fight tune/Mexican Hat Dance]

Joe Murphy fought with Riley near the cliffs of Alderney,
He took out his shillelegh and he stabbed him in the spleen.
Crazy Uncle Mike thought he was a leprechaun,
But in fact he's just a leper and his arms and legs are gone.

When Timmy Johnson broke his neck it was a cryin' shame,
He wasn't really Irish, but he went to Notre Dame.
MacNamara crossed the street and by a bus was hit,
But he was just a Scotsman so nobody gave a shit.

Now everybody's died, so until our tears are cried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight until the early mornin' light,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again.

[Hava Nagila] Ole!!

Me drunken Uncle Brendan tried to drive home from the bar,
The road rose up to meet when he fell out of his car.
Irony at once befell me Great Grand Uncle Sam,
When he choked upon the very last potato in the land.

Connor lived in Ulster-town, he used to smuggle arms,
Until the British killed him and cut off his lucky charms.
And dear old Father Flanagan who left the Lord's employ,
Drunk on sacramental wine beneath the altar boy.

Now everybody's died, so until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight until the early mornin' light,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again.

Someday soon I'll leave this world of pain and toil and sin,
The Lord will take me by the hand to join all of me kin.
Me only wish is when the Savior comes for me and you,
He kills the cast of Riverdance and Michael Flatley too.

Now everybody's died, so until our tears are cried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight until the early mornin' light,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again,
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again.

-There's someone in my head, but it's not me.-

Really one of the funniest songs of the year. Fridays are so great. And a band named after a guy back in WWI days is great, too.

When I woke up tonight I said I'm
Going to make somebody love me
I'm going to make somebody love me
Now I know
Now I know
Now I know
That it's you
You're lucky lucky you're so lucky

Well do you
Do you
Do you want to
Want to go where I'd never let you before
Well do you
Do you
Do you want to
Want a go of what I'd never let you before

Well he's a friend and he's so proud of you
He's a friend and I knew him before you
He's a friend and we're so proud of you
He's a friend and I blew him before you
Here we are at the Transmission party
I love your friends - they're all so arty

Hmm, presently I'd prefer my wine with an age (baad, bad phonemic joke). So, it will have to be a friday song, this time populistically adressing the college crowd, which - so I am told - should long ago have filed this one under the heading "anthem". I'll just ff to the highly relevant second verse:

I went to see a doctor of philosophy
With a poster of rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a b-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
Got my paper and I was free

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

I've noticed that a lot of bulletin boards use .ca sites. For example, my home island on Y!PP. They had a marvelous party last month, and when one of the organizers came by and gave me the link I was a little confused as to whether we were all actually Canadian pirates. She had never even noticed. I'd guess our drunken laptop users weren't searching for anything to do with Canada, and had possibly swilled enough grog that they were beginning to forget what they were looking for in the first place. Not that I've ever done that, of course.

Anyway, brava! Eve. We've missed you. We were getting a little hard up for entertainment. It might have gotten ugly. I heard the weasel army was thinking of joining the Militant Grammarians in forming a Movement to Bring Back the Original Meaning of Cool Points (hereafter, MBBOMCP). I, of course, was not involved, although I heard the hedgehog guerillas were still fielding offers from both sides.

Never apologize. Never explain.

I simply had to click on the google ad for "Make Your Own Cult Wine", but it just wasn't as strange as I'd hoped. Turns out it's a business that makes small batches of wines with customer involvement, rather than a business specializing in directions for making wines for cults. Sort of interesting, though, if you're into wine.

I guess, when I start my cult, I could hire Crushpad's services to make my wine for me; it'd be less labor-intensive than home-made, and probably taste better. But then how do I keep my cultists busy, if I don't force them to work the fields and crush the grapes themselves?

-Can't stop, the weasels are closing in!

I haven't really explored the internet of our northern friends that much, but I'm sure it's rich and varied, with plenty of wine. Although I saw a documentary recently about the "Little Ice Age" (from about 1300 - 1850 AD), which killed all the grapes in northern Europe, which is why we Northern European-decended immigrants all drink so much beer and hard liquor rather than wine.

speaking of alcohol, check out this bountiful harvest from the sea!

Down with the soulless minions of orthodoxy!

Holy crap! A new post! I'm astounded and overwhelmed. This simply isn't what I expected.

Okay, so, what? Two guys trying to find some info on the Canadian economy? They sure as hell weren't looking for info on a Canadian winery.

And I'm guessing Eve was here.

And personally, if I were writing that second sentence as a bit of dialogue I would've put a semicolon in it, but strictly grammatically, I'd say it screams out for a period."