Peeps, don’t forget to remember: tomorrow is the first!

lucky bunnynovemberAnd that means–RABBIT RABBIT!

Before you say anything or put your feet on the floor, you must say, “Rabbit, rabbit!” aloud. This will give you good luck for whole of November. Superstition makes the world go round.

I’m trying to win the Mega Millions jackpot. Just because I haven’t won so far doesn’t mean I won’t win in November. I promise I won’t forget you when I win. I’ll buy you each some shoes or something. Since there’s only twelve or so of you they can be Manolos. How will I know that it’s really you? I’ll find a way. I know: I can just announce it on here. It’s not like anyone else’ll hear about it anyways. I am going to win this fucking shit. No one will have me to push around anymore! You hear me, world? You won’t be so tough once I have all the dough.

In other news: this shitty, assy year is almost over! Whoomp! Don’t kill anyone and don’t die and we’ll have made it through 2010, people. I can’t say with no fatalities because a friend of mine took one for the team (by lighting himself on fire while on the nod. I don’t know if I told you that’s how it happened, but it did). Shit. Can’t we have a nice year, just as a family? Aren’t we capable of that? Must we always have a fucked up year, every time we get together? Why? Why do we do always this? What, are you punishing me for the divorce? Your mother wanted that, too. It wasn’t just my idea. Then you go and become a Hairy Christmas, and your brother goes and becomes a Young Republican. Both of you–we can’t take you to any of the relatives’ houses without chanting and bells and Chaps and fighting. Why? What did we ever do to deserve this?

RABBIT-RABBIT. DON’T YOU DARE FORGET, MY DUNNIES. MONDAY.

Smicks out. (Aren’t you glad? I’m a little weird tonight. But maybe you like it weird. Maybe you come back every day, just hoping I get weird. Maybe Seer’ll get weird tonight, you hope and pray. Pants around your ankles, just in case it gets strange. Then, that one time in ten, it does, and you’re so “happy.” Well, Merry Christmas, you Sicko. Happy Chanukkah, you freak. I’m sure your mother would be so proud of you if she could see you at this very moment. Masturbating to odd material on the World Wide Wow. And now I’ve given you “ideas” about what to “do” with the rest of your evening. That’s just great. Keep me out of it!)

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