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Human Piñata

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I was at a party store today. Walking around the aisles I was contemplating suing them, because for one, there was no party and two, there wasn’t any party. There was so much crap in the store it made me feel like I was in an attic or garage of some deranged packrat. It seemed like everything in the store cost 15 cents. It felt as though I could buy the entire store with the money in my car ashtray.


Just when I thought all hope was lost, I turned the corner to the aisle of piñatas. Holy macaroni I love piñatas. I don’t think there’s anything cooler than a piñata. A cheap, ugly, crepe paper work of mastery always puts my on cloud nine. They never quite look like the object they’re suppose to be. A horse looks like a donkey, the mermaid looks like a donkey and Spider-Man looks like a donkey.


I once bought my daughter a piñata for her birthday. I filled it with fake gold coins and made an awesome stick out of an old school, broom handle, (i.e. it was thick and menacing). When the time came for her to unleash on it she hit it and hit it and hit it. Eventually she became so exhausted she gave me the stick. In my mind I thought, “Oh, little girl, me strong man, me break it no problem.” Twenty minutes later I was on my hands and knees with a box knife going for its neck. See how much you could have.


Standing in the piñata aisle made me wish I was a piñata. I tried to come up with what I’d want to have inside of me to come spilling out to please the children that were assaulting me. I thought cell phones would be cool or iPods. Maybe organ shaped candy. Ooo, iPod shaped organs, filled with cell phone shaped candy, perfect!


If you were a piñata, what would you want to be filled with?


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 30, 2009 at 4:43 am

New Year’s Eve

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The first New Year’s Eve I remember, I was a child. My family had gone to a friend of my mother’s house. At midnight they made everyone go outside and the kids all banged pots and pans together. At the time I really didn’t understand what we were doing or why we were doing it. Now that I’m no longer a spring chicken, the appeal of New Year’s Eve has even less of an appeal to me.


Why does everyone want to do something? Why does everyone feel like they HAVE to do something? Going out on New Year’s Eve is like going shopping on Wednesday before Thanksgiving. You might as well be burning your money.


I realize that New Year’s Eve might be fun and exciting if you have lots of friends, lots of money and young love to which you hope to impress by a lavish fiesta. I don’t have any of these things, so I can’t relate. Perhaps you’re just an alcoholic and like to gamble with your freedom by driving under the influence on the most highly patrolled night of the year. I’m not much of a drinker myself and I don’t like talking to cops, (when I’m being pulled over).


The need to go out, to be somewhere, to be doing something is just silly to me, but then again I’m an anti-social, hermit crab, living under the ground in a abandoned bomb shelter. I wonder how many of the people who “need” to get out and let loose suffer from cabin fever on a regular basis. Or is this the “one time” of the year they’ve earned/deserve to go out?


New Year’s Eve is a young person’s holiday. I usually stay up till midnight every night, but I’m pretty sluggish by eleven and certainly wouldn’t be any fun to be around. I’m not a party animal. I’m not even a party animal that has been domesticated. I’m just an old man who’s frugal and grumpy.


Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go, my limo is here and I’m gonna be late to the club.


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

January 1, 2009 at 4:18 am