Hey there.
This weekend, I dusted off my camouflage shirt, put personal hygiene on the back-burner, and ventured to the "deer woods" with my brother Chris and my father, his holiness Pope Chester III.
I am admittedly not the biggest hunter. However, anything that puts me in the forest with my dad, brother and about 100 cold Coors Light...sign me up, Jack. Seriously, put my name on the list. I'll have that.
We seem to be on the cusp of the holiday season, and while I think its bogus that Santa gets to poke his big, jolly ass in on Halloween, I love Christmas and I am ready to start burning the advent candle at both ends. Even a leisurely stroll through Lowe's can make one long for the smell of a freshly cut fraiser fir and some hot chocolate. Mmmmm...daddy like.
But for the love of baby Jesus, no egg nog. That has to be one of the grossest beverages ever conceived by man. I imagine its initial conception went something like this:
Two schmo's are sitting on a couch. One schmo has just finished eating a very filling egg salad. Exhausted from inhaling the "delicious" eggs, he stands up and blows a huge, revolting fart in the other's face. Unsure how to react to the pungent assault on his nostrils, the schmo takes in several breaths, looks to his giggling friend and says:"My god! If someone were to make that into a drink...it would be...DELICIOUS!"
That's right. Egg nog was created as a raunchy egg fart in liquid form. Deal with it.
Jessi and I begin our christmas movie marathon next week. I will keep you posted.
It is November...if you are shaving your face, you are not a man.
Until we meet again,
JL
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