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Saturday, December 17, 2011

My letter to Santa

Dear Santa,


I'm a giver as you know so this year I'd like most of my Christmas wishes to be all about the needy, down on their luck, impoverished, and mentally unstable. Yes, I mean my friends! How did you know?

For Christmas this year I'd like more new guards.

Yes, my Royal House of Bitches loop ladies have already worn out the ones you gave me last year! Greedy wenches!! You don't want to know what condition I found them in after Nic Austin and Eve Savage finished with them. Needless to say I know the two poster girls for your naughty list! They already come equipped with inmate numbers and orange jumpsuits. Eve especially likes cavity searches!

I'd also like my pretty shiny Royal scepter back from Elece Payne Farberov. The sneaky minx stole it in Ohio. (stolen/given) Would you mind giving Cassandra McGuire a new appendix? The warranty ran out on her last one & was repoed. For Desiree Holt I'd like it a lot if you could find her memory. She can't remember where she left it. Brenna Zinn asked if she could get a clue, so I'd like to request she get one.


Samantha Cayto once asked a freaking minute of peace and quiet. Would you mind giving her the minute full of freaks? Also Sam requested the stupid people on the planet be given their own island. I second that and also ask that you actually move them there. Leaving it to them would not result in rainbows & puppies.
I'm not done yet, Santa, so please quit rubbing your heart and muttering "take me, take me please". It's not very polite. After all I'm just trying to give back like you've always nagged...er I mean asked me to.
**clearing throat**
Now for Margie. She needs her sanity which she said she lost last October and hasn't seen a glimpse of it since. *blinking eyes innocently** What do you mean my fault, Santa? Really how rude!
Cerise Deland asked for things I'm sure Eve would be better able to provide. Things my innocent young royal mind can in no way understand or comprehend. Though I do recommend getting her the oak St. Andrew's cross because the cheap ply wood break with only a good wack or two.


Yes, Santa there is something else. Each of my Royal House of Bitches ladies (no, it's not an oxymoron)would like a Caveman under her bed. Yes, bed not tree. No, I'm not explaining it just deal or else I'll start sending pics of the guards in the after condition. The problem here is I have more ladies (quit laughing...did you just pee on yourself, Santa? Ughhh) Anyway there are more FEMALES then guards even tossing in my gently used ones. Big thanks, Nic & Eve, I said break them in not break them! Santa, how do you feel about a little temporary cloning as I know Alec is pretty popular & I know once Brenna finishes with him...well he'll have grown wiser and more sarcastic.


A new padded wing to the palace, not for me of course, but for those guards and ladies who tap dance a little to close to the sanity line. More ugly guards too. Elece needs to learn to share and trolls make nice jailers too.

So Santa dear, these are my wishes this year. As you tell I'm all about the giving this year and as a result I'll expect the rest of my more...private wishes to be taken care of as well. Thank you, dear old fellow, for taking the time to visit with me and for taking pity on the RHB.


Sincerely,
Princess Allie


Ruler of the Sparkly Kingdom
P.S. Don't forget the batteries!!

Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Christmas Turkey Battle!

I love this time of the year mostly because food contains no calories in the month of December. Really, I'm sure there a study being done somewhere to prove this very important point. Most people will go on and on about the importance of being surrounded by friends and family. Me? I drink more thanks to said friends and family. Then I hide out in the darkest corner and wait for the mentally impaired to leave. Yeah, I'm not all that fluffy or jolly after hours surrounded by family. However, I honestly love hanging out with the short crowd. The 5-13 age bracket are my favorite, old enough to know what's going on & still young enough to believe.
So while the 'adults' are doing the coffee thing and trying to one up each other with their yearly news letters I hang with the ankle bitters. Before Christmas we take the presents, stack them up by name, then by size and finally by sound. It's fun and makes me feel like a kid again.
Once many moons ago as a innocent, pure and sweet soul of fourteen or fifteen I wanted to surprise my parents. My surprise, you ask? Cooking the turkey for Christmas! Yep, it was a brillant idea even though I'd never cooked one before. I thought how hard could it possibly be? Ahh the stupidity of the young :)
There it was a big twenty pound turkey in all its frozen glory. The time period to cook the bird was short. My parents worked so I had to get it done before they arrived home from work. As an astoundingly creative teen I thought of the perfect way to defrost my monstrous bird. Yank open the door on the dishwasher & stuff it in. Smart girl I am I pressed the gentle cycle, tossed the white frozen bundle in, hipped checked it closed & patted myself on the back.
Ten minutes into my amazing plan the dishwasher bucked, jerked and clucked. Yep, I thought the bird was fighting back. I rip open the door only to find bent metal and a still frozen bird. Obliviously not strong enough to conquer my turkey I grabbed it from the dishwasher and spun around waiting for brillance to strike again.
WHAM! Lighting bolts!! I rush to the laundry room & stood debating. Washer or dryer?? Hot water would defrost the bird faster. So off to poor innocent machine I went. Only to discover my bird wouldn't fit. Shoving, pushing, & slicking it with Snuggle fabric softener didn't help either. Hey, the thing was wrapped in pastic what could it hurt? Giving up that particular fork in the road I decided maybe the dryer was the answer after all. After flinging open the door I popped the now slightly mangled bird in and slammed the door shut. Set the heat timer to medium and hit the start button with an angry jab. The battle had now become personal! Me against the dead bird and so far the bird was winning.
I waited impatiently, listening to the thunk thunk of the drum as it connected to the frozen fowl. Everything going according to my masterplan! I walked away feeling triumphant and victorious! Just as I crossed the threshold the once seemingly innocuous dryer went postal. It bucked, groaned and hit the ground so hard I thought the floor would crack. Fearing my mother's reaction should I break the dryer (I was hoping to blame the dishwasher on my brother) I ran across the room, hit the power button and nothing happen. The dryer was alive and PISSED! Terror became my new name as I punched the damn button over and over again with no different results. Finally as my heart rate tripled I reached behind the now moaning monster and yanked out it's life blood. The electric cord! and all at once silence descended until the door popped open revealing my STILL frozen dead bird!
A smart person would have admitted defeat. A smart person would have already called and confessed her sins. A smart person would have packed a bag and hit the road before her mother came home to the destruction and possible death of two major appliances. I however am not a smart person. As I said this was war. The bird would not beat me. It would not be put back in the giant outside freezer only to mock me to the other frozen foods. I'd never be able to look another Popsicle in the face.
Time to pull the big girl panties up and show the turkey I meant business. Wrapping each hand in two oven mitts apiece (cause by now I'm thinking the bird just might still be alive and possessed) I take it to the ultimate destination for death. My mom's brand new microwave! A device bought only a few weeks ago in honor of the upcoming holiday and all the impending guests. Yes, I thought to myself, this machine so shiny and with so many fun buttons, would conquer my opponent.
Feeling smug and pretty proud of myself I shove the bird in, slam the door closed before turkey could try to make a break for it and hit the high power button then start.
Oh yeah, this was so going to work. I wanted to pat myself on the back. I wanted to crow with my vicious victory. I wanted to rub my brother and sister's faces in my brillance and all the brownie points cooking this bird would get me. Mentally I ignored the other destruction I'd left in my wake. Thinking about it would have interfered with my victory lap around the kitchen island. Some time around the second boogie lap I head the strangest noise. A pop, kind of quiet so maybe I didn't really hear anything? A litter slower now, but still dancing and rejoicing I continued to Snoopy Dance my way around the room.
Then it happened. The turkey came back for revenge! I'd just made a pass around the microwave when all hell broke loose. The door flew open, the turkey flew out headed right where my dancing self had been two seconds before, but instead of hitting me the bird soared across the room, smashed into the opposite wall and came bounding back. It crashed into the not so new looking microwave then finally thankfully tumbled to the floor, smoking. When the smoke finally cleared I saw bits and pieces of turkey meat littering the kitchen floor and me. Covered head to toe in turkey guts I looked around at the destruction, stunned and suddenly very very afraid.
My once oh so brillant plan lay smoking and popping at my feet and there wasn't a single sibling in the house to blame. Needless to say my mother had a few choice words for me even as I tried to defend myself. Somehow "the turkey made me do it" didn't fly with her and I was stuck as her kitchen slave for the next month. My father took one look at the room and quickly left, hiding in his office with the TV on...LOUD. Only in later years would I learn he'd hidden himself away so quickly because he'd burst out laughing.
It's a story that gets told every year at Christmas time around my family. It always starts with "You remember the time Allie started a war with the frozen turkey & the turkey won?"
To this day I reply "The victor ended up eaten by the dog, didn't he?"

I wish you a wonderful Christmas, Hanukkah, holiday or whatever you wish celebrate this time of year. Enjoy those who love you and those you love. Learn to tolerate or ignore those you don't.

Until next time

Kudos,
Allie

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