Monday 24 December 2012

Merry Christmas, bitches!

Hells, yeah. It's Christmas EVE. You know what that means, right? LOOT!

I cut my teeth on Calvin and Hobbes as a teen, and as such some of my fondest Christmas morning were spend snuggled up sharing a blanket on the sofa with my big brother (still my hero, forever and always) reading the C&H giant special books we'd been bought, and laughing ourselves silly. Those comics never go out of style, by the way. I re-read them all the time, catching a hell of a lot of the hilarious subtleties I missed when I was too young to know some of the longer words.

With this in mind, I present to you a couple of Calvin and Hobbes Christmas spreads - the characters and drawings and writing all from the brilliant mind of Bill Watterson and by no means my own. Please don't sue me. Here's a link to Bill's webpage.

And here are some picks of my favourite Calvin and Hobbes Christmas moments:








Have a CRAZY GOOD Christmas, everybody. I really hope you get to spend some lovely time with some lovely people.

I know I will! I'm spending it with all my family and it's going to be AWESOME. I mean, once my Mum has more than two glasses of wine she's going to start messing with my hair and asking me if I'm not really too old for the pillar-box red these days. I will sigh and catch my Dad's eye across the room, who will make a witchy-face behind my Mother's back in silent solidarity with my plight. And then it'll be all 'Why haven't you married the Spy yet,' and 'A long engagement is only for couples with no intention of marrying," and blah, blah..

But it's okay! I'll retreat to library where my Grandad will be camped out with a thick book of something that looks like the dullest book in the word ('The Five Hundred Kind of Bricklaying' or something such) but which becomes the most interesting book ever once he starts reading excerpts to me. His voice is packed with gravel and soaked in whiskey, it's a voice Morgan Freeman would be jelly of.

TODAY I have been wrapping presents and watching reruns of Rock of Love. That, my friends, was the trash TV that got me into Reality TV. If you don't know about it, it was a 'dating' show starring Bret Michaels of Poison fame, and twenty skanks vying for his love. 

YOU GUYS. THESE PEOPLE. I have never.. I mean.. They're naked half the time, drunk off their faces, trying to sneak into Bret's room to give him head, as if his penis is even capable of doing what it's supposed to these days, after all the Poison roadies he's banged and the plethora of STDs that come along with that kind of lifestyle.

You know, I watched all of this back in the day, and came to the conclusion that Bret is actually a fairly decent guy. The women are all skank cuntknuckles painted in three-feet of stripper make-up (even the ones that AREN'T strippers). And they crazy, you guys. CRAZY.

I would need to devote an entire post to the crazy of those women, what with the shoving people into pools, one of them maybe being legit possessed, The Letter, Erin's circus tits, Rodeo.. being Rodeo. My GOD I love Rodeo. She is about the best, craziest person I've ever seen on TV - and I watch TV for a LIVING! Sort of. Not really. You know what I mean.

I would need a whole post just to focus on RODEO. I might do that.

I'll look into it after Christmas!

Until then, HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE, have the best time, get drunk, get loot, eat until you're rolling around, and laugh the whole time. It's good for the soul.

Peace, lovelies.

xxx

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