The Most of Christmas Past

So, I finally bought a plant.
This happened two or three weeks ago now.
Made a trip to Home Depot with the missus and picked out a nice little ivy.
I think it's ivy. The tag said ivy, with another word in parenthesis.
We tried to look up the name, but were wholly unsuccessful.
I care not.
Whatever it was before, the plant is now a Warford.
I named it Huey.
It looks like a Huey if you get close enough to it.
I'd take a picture of it for all of you, but that would involve finding my camera.
Finding batteries for the camera.
And then remembering what it was that I wanted to take a picture of.
It's all a little bit too much for me right now.
Cause I'm in the middle of exams.
Talk about exercises I'm vehemently opposed to.
Ditto for 'squats.'
I don't care for the name of that exercise, by the way.
To me it's perverse.

To dwell on seasons that I'm vehemently opposed to, it's winter now.
There's snow on the ground.
It's falling from the sky.
It's winter.
My mother and I have few things in common, but we both think winter is horseshit.
No matter how many we experience.
A Newfoundland winter is something that you simply cannot adjust to.
Who can adjust to being damp for seven months straight?
You know that stinging pain that you get in your ears when you walk in the wind for too long?
There's no getting used to that.
A pox on this place.
Some people actually prefer winter to other seasons.
Sick motherfuckers.
I think that if you legitimately enjoy winter, you should be legally required to shovel my driveway.
Maybe after this coalition (whatever the hell that is) business is over, we can get that into the legislature.

Did you know that there's a snack called Fiddle Faddle?
If you want to give her that special something this year...
"We Fiddle Faddle'd under the tree all night long."

So, I know what you're wondering:
"If I sell my old shuffle, can I afford a touch?"
No, you can't.
Besides, you should be wondering what it is that I want for Christmas.
Shirts and ties.
Well, it's not what I really want.
But it is what my future occupation dictates that I should want.
What I really want (and I know I've been over this) is a paintball gun.
Some paintballs.
And my youth back.
If I get what I want for Christmas, there are some things that I'm going to do differently.
First of all, if I relive my youth-no CLB.
No swim team (what a waste of my time. Have you seen me swim?).
Besides, swim team put me into contact with Sarah Turpin.
And now I can't get clear of her.
Finally, I think I'd grow my hair out in junior high, instead of waiting until university.
I think I could have been getting handjobs earlier, and more frequently.
Another item on everyone's wish list.