a bastard learned a thing about the birth of Christ…
and he learned that the day in question was in march…
and like a smug jackass…
he told his grandmother this nugget of historical shite.
long story short…
which it never is here…
gramma had something to say about it to me…
and we hada phone conversation about it.
upon hanging up with her I received a good talking to from my dad about belief…
and not letting history mess with that sometimes.
so I clammed up about my minor in history.
it was better this way because I could keep going back to the house of usher for the gingers snap gravy and know that grandma wasn't shooting little daggers at me.
she was a good lady.
that said, as the day approaches I realize that the burden of history is better spent keeping your mouth shut.
god is in his his heaven and and I?
I am on my couch drinking whiskey…
and all is right with the world.
happy saturnalia, ya frikkin pagans
—the bastard
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