[Thanks to TikBoy for the music and Cabana Boy for the video]
Ho, ho, ho,
Once again the three-chick trio,
The same Christmas rap encore,
But with a brand new musical score.
Click here for
What was shown before.
Here’s to Christmas cheer
All through the New Year.
Happy New Year!
Image by Disney FanMan
Image: Joyful Graphics
Get ready for change
Three days before the New Year
Do you have your beer?
[Note: I know we’ve got no singing talent,
But our desire to extend Christmas merriment
Overrides any shame and embarrassment.
Thanks to Cabana Boy’s help with music and lyrics,
This quasi-rap song is performed by yours truly
And some rapper wannabees.
Our amateur audio performance moniker:
Two Foxy Chicks and a Hot Cougar]
Christmas Gotta Go On
Say what, whut
But . . . but . . .
Christmas can’t be over!
I’m not done wearing my ugly sweater
Christmas, man, is so much better
No, no, it’s gotta go on,
Lay off that tree, you moron!
Christmas ain’t done just yet,
I’se still waitin’ for my choo choo set.
Yo, Santa, you dissin’ me here,
Where be my Christmas cheer?
I been drinkin’ my nog and Jack,
Yo, Santa, you dissin’ my shack.
Say what, whut
I hear da ringin’
Santa, Santa, what you bringin’?
Don’t you worry, I’se ready to snooze,
I’ll leave out cookies, apple pie, and booze.
Caroling outside,
Cheers of joy heard from inside,
Sounds of Christmas Day.
Merry Christmas!
Image: Pixabay
I see you’ve gotten to the last written page, Mr. Lang. If you go to the back of the journal, I inserted the ripped part of the page there.
“Dec. 24: . . . home for Christmas. I p . ; l ls n I a e l p . . . “
It is difficult to make out the rest of his scribbles. I see you can’t decipher them either, Mr. Lang. That’s all I have for you, sir. So, if there’s anything else . . . Please let me walk you out. You know we have a beautiful place here; we don’t really see too many people come out this way. Thanks for visiting. Okay, good-bye . . .
Mr. Lang looks like he’s headed out in the same direction as our Mr. McCue. Perhaps he too will find his place in our valley. I’ve been here many years now since I’ve been given the post of Overseer. I take good care of my residents. I feed them well. In time, they will be ready to spread out and take over more of this world.
Image: Pixabay
“Dec. 23: I’m freaking out. Nothing appears normal here. I’ve lost track of time. The sky always looks dim and heavy. How can that be? What’s become of day and night? It doesn’t get bright or pitch black. It’s as if there’s a dirty film over the place. My legs feel like they walked many miles, but I keep seeing my car directly ahead. Is the car following me? I can’t figure things out. I’m tired, but I can’t fall asleep. I haven’t slept since I woke up hours ago, but it must have been a whole day because I can feel my chin’s five o’clock shadow.
And what’s with these trees? Some are twisty or bent to the ground, while others are completely straight. They don’t feel right either. There’s some kind of slime coming out of the squat looking ones. I’m also starting to hear something like a cross between murmurs and light rustling. For some reason, my nose is also picking up smells that kind of makes me want to throw up. My mind seems to be playing tricks. I’m writing what I can so I can read it later to see if I’m making any sense, although my eyes aren’t helping. They seem to getting progressively bad. Am I becoming myopic? I’m thirsty and hungry but my body can’t seem to stop from walking around. I’ve actually tied my legs to a tree stump so I will stop walking. I can barely write.
I just want to be . . . “
To be continued
Image: Pixabay
“Dec. 22: I’m so mad. I can’t believe I slept through the night. I lost so much good driving time! What the hell? I set my smartphone’s alarm, but it didn’t go off. Soon after I woke up, I started driving, but I can’t seem to find my bearing. There’s no reception; my radio just spews out static. My smartphone’s good for shite. And my once-trusty compass keeps spinning around in circles as its hand goes round and round. So it’s no good here either. Weird.
I got out of the car to see if I can find anyone. Strange how silent it is out here. No wildlife sounds of any kind, or even the distant drone of a jet airplane. All I see is long stretches of dirt road with odd-looking trees. Never seen the likes of them. I tried to take a picture with my smartphone, but it’s a dud. I’m going to hike around to look for some kind of a bird’s eye view.”
Image: Pixabay
Deep in the woods of Pine Valley somewhere in the northeast part of the new country is where shadows rule the isolated acres of trees. Only a few have ventured there. Among them was a poor soul by the name of Kevin McCue; he took a wrong turn as he drove on the long, winding, mind numbing drive up toward the hills. His destination was supposed to be a cozy cabin in a small town called Spruce, to celebrate Christmas with his young family. Instead, he made a detour that fateful day.
Later on, his journal was found near the Zipcar he drove. The rented Honda Civic was in a ditch. Yet there was no sign of Mr. McCue anywhere. As caretaker and Sheriff of Pine Valley, I pored over the journal to find a clue of his demise. And right now I don’t feel optimistic.
Peruse the journal entries for yourself, Mr. Lang, so you can confirm what you need to with his grieving wife. Please make yourself comfortable and read, while I pour you a cup of tea.
“Dec. 21: I’m excited to see my baby Nicole and my beautiful wife, Penny. I told Penny this is the last long distance trip I’ll take for the next two years. I’m going to be home more often so Nicole will know she’s got a daddy. I’ve been driving for eight solid hours and I’m getting tired. The weather has been surprisingly mild up here in the hills. I’ve decided to stop in Pine Valley to take a quick nap and then resume driving. My head is starting to feel light, so I’m going to stop writing for now and get me some sleep.”
Image: Pixabay
Life of the party,
Chugging drinks repeatedly;
Getting touchy-feely,
Much too flirty.
Borders blurred,
Speech sounds slurred,
Calling his boss a turd
And a colleague a nerd.
He falls on his nose;
His face glows,
Red as a rose,
“This office party blows!”
Slinking away with a sway,
Such a slow getaway,
Keeping everyone at bay,
Tomorrow he’ll call in sick for the day.
December is a month of multicultural holiday celebrations. If you’re considering exchanging gifts when celebrating holidays such as Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Three Kings Day, then how about a book for that young, budding engineer?
Written by Matt MacGregor, a Dallas-based civil engineer and father of three, I Am a Sidewalk is about the lifespan of a neighborhood sidewalk winding its way through a quintessential American town. Over a period of years, from the initial pouring of cement until the very end, the sidewalk’s neighborhood undergoes gradual yet profound change.
On one level, children learn about the basics of road and sidewalk construction. At the same time, they learn that change is good and nothing in life stays the same.
An uplifting read for both kids and adults alike.
Illustrated by Don Huff
Karina Pinella 
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