...they filed into the great vaulted sanctuary singing "Jesus Loves Me" in that classic toneless toddler caterwaul that nevertheless finds a melody somewhere, and holds it aloft like the body of some strange & lovely creature that washed up on the village's shore.
My internet limited edition Return of the King soundtrack arrived yesterday. I bounced excitedly and petted the shiny for a couple of minutes before I snatched up its lesser store-bought cousin and scrambled downstairs to give it to my dad to cherish as his own forever and ever. I felt a bit like Christian in Moulin Rouge. "This CD is yours now. I've paid my whore." I don't know who I'm calling a whore, because I really am just AOL Time-Warner's bitch. "Watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer." Okay! "Watch Angel." Okay! "Buy useless merchandise." Cool! "You need the extra special limited edition soundtrack." Yes Master...
I almost felt guilty when my aunt and three cousins came home from church on Sunday (when I was down there to see The Taming of the Shrew with my aunt) and I realized that Mom and I never go. Almost. Then I remembered all those years of attending Catholic mass on Thursdays at school and Methodist services on Sundays with my mom, and it was like having roll-over church minutes.
And on this, the day before the birthday of my cunning nemesis Jesus the Christ, I and all my legions of faithful zombie ninja minions would like to wish you and yours a safe and happy holiday season. Now if I just get that giant death ray I wanted, I can start putting things right around here!