ode to my friend santa clause, who wishes he was less significant.

whiskey and cookies on the mantle
the children asleep wait for st. nick
while they sleep we can drink
the tree is hung - tribute to you
and three hundred and sixty for days til I see you again
and a thousand more tears
and a thousand more tears

st. nicholas, st. nicholas, at the north pole
364 days spent all alone
take off your boots, pour a drink
try not to cry, try not to think

and you drink your eggnog and I'll drink my wine
toast the season, but just one more time
the morning is coming, the whiskey is empty
the gifts have arrived, st. nick has come and gone

and it ends like it started, the hugs and the kisses
the bullshit flows, the bullshit flows
you raise your bottle, and I'll raise my flask
toast Christmas future, and toast Christmas past
and when they're all gone, sit down in peace
wait one more year
and pour just one more drink

st. nicholas, st. nicholas, at the north pole
364 days spent all alone
take off your boots, pour a drink
try not to cry, try not to think

murder city devils.

when it comes down to it...

i was sitting in a corner smoking my last cigarette and trying to get money for some cheap vodka when she walked by, holding hands with a new fling. when our eyes met, a look of shock was apparent on her face. after all, it had been two years since i'd seen her. thoughts, words, and emotions all poured into my thoughts. i tried to say something but all that came out was a quiet, shallow 'hello'. i had spend a very long time composing the words that i would say. some were angry, some were sad, and some were kind of nice. so you can imagine i was very frusterated when she passed my by without a word. fuck, im such a coward when it comes to this. well, she looked happy. i got drunk after that. it felt good.

join the masses you lazy fuck, and suck the presidents dick.

i have realized a few things:

1. religion is only for those who are afraid of death.
2. our government is trying to play us like a giant chess game.