Merry Christmas

So my wife (Theresa) walks into the bed room where I am still sleeping and announces that she and her family are going to Mass, would I like to come? Groggily I point out that it is not Sunday and ask why she is putting on blue jeans for church. "You don't have to get dressed up to go to church. You don't have to dress up to be a good person" she stated. "And besides" I added "God has seen you naked, masturbating in the shower, so he'll probably think this is an improvement." For some reason she didn't think that was funny.

She said this is Jesus' birthday, and I should stop being a smart ass for a few hours and show a little love for mankind. I stuttered that I've decided that I love Jews. She stared at me. I said yep, they taste just like chicken. Silence once again. Let me ask you the reader something. Is there such a thing as a full-blooded Jew? Cause all the ones I know only claim to be Jew-ish.

Later in the day my mother-inlaw came over. She brought me a sweater that she knitted herself. She said she hoped it was what I wanted. I didn't have the balls to tell her what I really wanted was a ménage à trois with my wife and her 19 year old sister. At one time my number one sexual fantasy was to sleep with two women. Well that came true several years ago. Now my number one sexual fantasy is to sleep with two women who actually look like women.

This blog is a present from my brother Ken. He signed me up. Every time I'm in a good mood I start singing. Well whenever Ken is around and I am in a good mood (which is seldom) I'll start singing and he'll say "No..No..No. Write it down Mike. It sounds better that way." I thought he was kidding until today.

My mom called from Washington State this morning. She said she couldn't sleep because some of her grandkids stayed over last night and they were running around the house.
She complained that they kept yelling things like "let us in" and "we're fucking freezing." Some kids are really self centered these days.

Well dinner is on the table, gotta go. Later ...