Secret Santa

Help your Santa out, tell them about yourself.

So said the Secret Santa Preferences, sitting alongside it- a large number 3 box. Sign me up! They said.

I knew it was a trap.

What mommy and daddy didn’t know, was that I was merely playing a cold war soldier, I was actually, a member of the Vietcong. I had been carefully protecting their guest room with dirty socks and dirty underwear, neat little bed spreads spread back and rumpled up. Kept appearances up to close the door. “I want out” cracked a whisper through the hole he had mottled out with the dry end of his mother’s fine silverware soup spoon and the lever of the drawbridge in his castle lego set. He had gotten as far as the kitchen in apartment 2B. Come one, two, three doors down and still only had a finger width. I saw though the feet of sockened feet of many a man, woman and child. It were as though I were a muppet to the world, or a Peanut, hearing only the warbled calls of pink stripes and big shoes to fill. Nothing got out but the screams of my video games victims. I didn’t survive the night- I lived it vicariously. I was a Voldemort of feeling in the morning, all snake eyed and “what time is it?” I didn’t know the year but that seemed incredible. I was instead, above all else, a man, a man who could help you fall. All the waist down to the knees crying out into the grey skies your skyward eyes poured teardrops to dillute the rain. There was no god but loneliness and inventions mock the weak of heart, goading them on in a terrible bunch of crutches. No dear, go without me, bring my soul to our friends for dinner, I’d rather stay and watch TV. Gone are the days that dad put me on his shoulders, an excess of riches weighed me down to the heavens and, well, his back ain’t so good anymore. I think the days are gone and the nights are long and filled with visions of reality- our fantasies dropped in their ratings and now we only get reruns of the good old days Seinfeld, a show about nothing that taught us nothing- but to laugh, those were some good old days on that couch. There was no soup for me in the future I hadn’t planned yet on parenthood, I had only just become an adult. The blood hounds called me a hound dog but the howling pack wouldn’t sniff me for days. Bitches. I’ve got nothing left but dog jokes, and now this show is over.
Go home and rest in peace pipery, pied piper, nobodies buying your booby traps these days.

I spoon out banal originalities like a doofus. I hope you’ve enjoyed this nunsense. I’m all into real things from strange people. Or strange things from real people. They’re more likely to exist. But seriously.

Anyway, in reality, my personal hero is Jim Henson, I love samurai movies (a box set of all the Zatoichi movies just about creamed my pants last week) and anime. I look like Paul Bunyan on a bad day, but on a good day old honest Abe with a mustache beard will do. A sexy honest Abe with a mustache and beard, a Babe-raham one might say. I like the outdoors, I work in the theatre, love to love and John Carpenter still owes me 20 bucks, because I am a carpenter, John. I cook, well, and for the ladies or large families- very well. I’m a gamer, Final Fantasy 7 is easily the greatest game ever made. If you disagree, I’m open to hearing your opinion but, understand, you are already at a disadvantage because it is the greatest game ever made, and I am clearly convinced of this already. Don’t give up hope though, you’ll crack me soon. I like to write, paint, take pictures on my iPhone, climb trees and wear kilts. Utilikilts are my wet dream. I once saw a man in a black leather utilikilt and I fell in love. I have two kilts now, and I must say, I highly recommend it if you’re a man. If you’re a lady, you already know. Yeah, skirts are awesome, let’s be real here.
Let’s see, what else, I’ve always wanted a loop pedal, I speak well, and very well with an audience. I’ve never done this before. I am excited. I consider myself a good gift giver, it brings me a certain degree of pride and satisfaction. I like to find out what it is someone truly wants, those secret wants, like I want to be in a rock band here’s a drum set, or this is the only man in cinema that I respect and you got me this movie. Or oh I had no idea what to get you so here’s this totally cool thing that is very likely you would dig not merely because I think it’s cool but because I have pondered over your personality and entire existence and I have surmised that you’re really into this particular my little pony dolls or Yellow Submarine Collectible. It is the coolest riddle to solve and I consider the randomness of the internet to be a worthy opponent for my gift giving skilz. So come at me bro, I love surprises.

Much love,
Your Secret Santa
PS: I’m pretty stoned right now. Happy Holidays.


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