Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






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Sunday, December 04, 2011


Pathetic Christmas: A Short Story

Ludwig threw a handful of tinsel at the tree. It clumped in one spot and hung there limply, a couple of strands falling sadly to the floor. Ludwig stepped back to sip his eggnog and take in the whole tree.

The ornaments he’d picked up at CVS were okay. The colors were nice, anyway. But they weren’t his old ornaments. They didn’t have any kind of personal meaning. Okay, they had some kind of meaning about him as a person, but he didn’t want to think about what that meaning was.

The one string of lights was not enough. A single string of Christmas lights in a window can look festive, but a single string of lights in a tree just looks inadequate.

He wandered over to the kitchen and opened the mini-fridge. He pulled out the little eggnog carton and poured the remains of it into his mug. He tossed the empty carton in the direction of the trash can.

He checked the cookies. Almost. He’d cut them off the log a little thicker than the wrapper had suggested, because he liked his cookies a little thicker. He hoped they’d still cook evenly.

He stopped for a moment and scratched at his balls. An outside-the-jeans scratch was just not doin’ it. So he made the call. He reached in, lifted his balls with his index finger and used the middle and ring fingers to give the underside of his sack a good itching.

The timer went off. He grabbed his potholder and pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven. He spatula’d them onto his festive holiday paper plate. Cookies were always best warm, so he picked one up and took a tentative bite.

It didn’t taste so much like vanilla as maybe what the idea of vanilla might taste like in the imagination of a martian robot. He put the remainder of the cookie back on the plate.

“George! George!” came a voice from the living room.

Ludwig stepped back in the room in time to see Mary clearing off a table and listening for the townspeople. Donna Reed was the perfect woman. She stuck by George even when he was being a dick. Donna Reed.

He looked around the room. He was utterly alone. He sat down in his chair and pulled a few Kleenex from the box. He thought, “The holidays really are a special time.” His thoughts were then filled with Donna Reed and watersports.