White Christmas, My Arse!

25 September - They sure do love their Christmas TV in this country ... 24 hours straight of 'A Christmas Story' - the one about the kid who wants a BB gun but is told 'You'll shoot your eye out, kid!' (i probably watched the whole movie but in chunks spread out over the 24 hours) - it's pretty hot today, about 13 degrees (i've started to reevaluate what I consider to be warm and cool these days) and when I looked out the window for the first time, bleary eyed and lead headed from yesterday's festivities the sun reflecting off the concrete footpath looked so white that I though it had snowed during the night but this is Vancouver, it RAINS ... Made myself a Christmas breakfast and zonked around for most of the afternoon, enjoying the solitude of an empty house. Yesterday i'd setten myself up in preparation for the day by organising Haagen Daaz fraises glaces, Tullamore Dew, Tim Tams, a small but adequate stash of marijuana, Cobs bread, mushrooms and a stack of other things to ease the transition through the long day but it was ruined by an early wakeup call and invitation to a Christmas dinner with a friend, Brenda, and her family and some others. Totally spoiled my plans of getting completed wasted and chilling throughout the day. Some people are just so inconsiderate. Did rent a video, 'The Island' to ease me through the afternoon which was awful on so many levels from the complete implausibility of the plot and even the sheer impossibility of the economics of the ridiculous venture of creating clones for body parts and the enormous expense of creating an artificial world to entertain them while they were awaiting harvest. I was particularly unimpressed with the Ewan McGregor real person versus clone scenes (I'm Tom Lincoln! No, I am!) wih the only way of telling who was who was by the real one's Scottish accent (sounding very fake) and the clone's American (which was surprisingly believable), a far cry from Jet Li's 'The One' where they were distinguishable by a radical bleach haircut or distinctive fighting styles. I can just imagine jean claude van damme, undisputed champion of the one man playing twin genre, sitting in the theatre with a snobbish air, dismissing the Ewan McGregor's lacklustre attempts to emulate hs scintillating explorations of the shock that one would feel upon meeting his clone, his twin or himself from another time, for the very first time. Do not see this movie.
Did have another fantastic turkey dinner tonight though (two days in a row) and a very enjoyable night - slmost worth the trouble of keeping myself from being a wastrel throughout the day. One of the guests had brought home made Baileys which was delicious with coffee and I was laden down with leftover deserts to take home - I was also visited by three ghosts (four if you include an ex co-worker who warned me about the ones to come) who taught me the true meaning of Christmas ... Unfortunattely this occurred after I returned home from the dinner when I DID get wasted so I can't remember what that meaning is so you'll have to find out for yourselves. God bless us everyone.