Thanksgiving was fun. Here are some thoughts I had over the break:
- There's nothing quite like the toilet at home. That's when I know I'm officially home. It's not when I go through the door or sleep in my bed. It's on the crapper. That's where shit happens. Sorry, I had to say it.
- For some reason I really enjoy rest areas/stops. I don't know it is, but I just think it's cool. I'm driving for awhile and realize I gotta pee. I could go to a gas station or restaurant, but I don't like going to either of those places. Why? Cause you have to ask where the bathroom is. You go to the rest stop, and you know where it is. It's the only thing there. You've got toilets and picnic tables. That's it. If you can't find the bathroom at a rest stop, you're a moron. It's just easier. So, I pull over, get out, take a piss next to some random people that I've never seen or met in my life and will probably never see again, and then I get the hell outta there. Most of the time I don't say a word to anyone. Which is good. Talking should not happen in these situations. Everyone that's in there just wants to get in and get out. Why I enjoy this process, I have no idea. Also, who the hell has a picnic at the rest area? Seriously, I'd rather just eat in the car. One time a saw a family having their son's birthday party at one of those picnic tables. I thought, that will be the worst birthday that kid will ever have. Ever.
- Saturday night I hung out and drank a lot with some moron named Hunter. We watched some of the South Park movie on comedy central and I decided something. I believe the best thing those South Park creators have ever made is the South Park movie and the first season of South Park. Go ahead and argue.
- Right after Thanksgiving, my mom forced everyone in my family to help put up Christmas decorations and the tree. The real tree. I don't think I'll ever have a fake tree. I guess it's just something my family has always done and I want to continue the tradition. It's always such a hassle every year and it kicks ass. Here's what happens: We drive up to the Papa Noel in our oldest, most abused Honda and start looking around. Looking around consists of my mom asking me, my brother, and my dad, "Do you like this one?" or "Is this one good?" To which we all respond, "yeah, looks great." After we do this for a good half an hour we narrow it down to 2 or 3 trees. We all stand there in between them with my mom going back and forth finding minor, insignificant defects in each tree. After another half an hour of that, we just wait for my mom to say which one she wants and realize we had no say in picking out the christmas tree from the beginning. Then, we tie down the tree to the roof of the Accord and take it home. Putting up the tree is always fun as well. Every time, the tree is just a little too big and as we stuff the tree into the stand, the top of the tree scrapes the ceiling and my mom freaks out.
God, I love Christmas and the winter.
- There's nothing quite like the toilet at home. That's when I know I'm officially home. It's not when I go through the door or sleep in my bed. It's on the crapper. That's where shit happens. Sorry, I had to say it.
- For some reason I really enjoy rest areas/stops. I don't know it is, but I just think it's cool. I'm driving for awhile and realize I gotta pee. I could go to a gas station or restaurant, but I don't like going to either of those places. Why? Cause you have to ask where the bathroom is. You go to the rest stop, and you know where it is. It's the only thing there. You've got toilets and picnic tables. That's it. If you can't find the bathroom at a rest stop, you're a moron. It's just easier. So, I pull over, get out, take a piss next to some random people that I've never seen or met in my life and will probably never see again, and then I get the hell outta there. Most of the time I don't say a word to anyone. Which is good. Talking should not happen in these situations. Everyone that's in there just wants to get in and get out. Why I enjoy this process, I have no idea. Also, who the hell has a picnic at the rest area? Seriously, I'd rather just eat in the car. One time a saw a family having their son's birthday party at one of those picnic tables. I thought, that will be the worst birthday that kid will ever have. Ever.
- Saturday night I hung out and drank a lot with some moron named Hunter. We watched some of the South Park movie on comedy central and I decided something. I believe the best thing those South Park creators have ever made is the South Park movie and the first season of South Park. Go ahead and argue.
- Right after Thanksgiving, my mom forced everyone in my family to help put up Christmas decorations and the tree. The real tree. I don't think I'll ever have a fake tree. I guess it's just something my family has always done and I want to continue the tradition. It's always such a hassle every year and it kicks ass. Here's what happens: We drive up to the Papa Noel in our oldest, most abused Honda and start looking around. Looking around consists of my mom asking me, my brother, and my dad, "Do you like this one?" or "Is this one good?" To which we all respond, "yeah, looks great." After we do this for a good half an hour we narrow it down to 2 or 3 trees. We all stand there in between them with my mom going back and forth finding minor, insignificant defects in each tree. After another half an hour of that, we just wait for my mom to say which one she wants and realize we had no say in picking out the christmas tree from the beginning. Then, we tie down the tree to the roof of the Accord and take it home. Putting up the tree is always fun as well. Every time, the tree is just a little too big and as we stuff the tree into the stand, the top of the tree scrapes the ceiling and my mom freaks out.
God, I love Christmas and the winter.
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