Sunday, December 19, 2004

Christmas with the Reeves

Back in 2002, I remember it fondly, sitting amidst a makeshift dinner table. I and the Reeves.

Christopher sat slouching to my right, being fed applesauce by his caretaker and wife. They were so happy. And when I would offer "S-Man" some Starbucks coffee, his eyes would light up like so many IEDs by an Iraqi roadside. For he and I both knew, that deep within the secret recipe for all Starbucks coffee is a super-secret ingredient... the crushed bones of baby fetuses.

These magical bits of bone and stem cell would give the S-Man that little extra boost he would need, to slowly lift his head straight up, open his mouth slightly, and emit a labored and soft exclamation: "stupid b@$ch... this applesauce is f@#$ing disgusting."

His wife would hear these few words and if you looked closely, you could almost see the tears...

. . .

Christmas is a time for giving. So give the gift that keeps on giving... starbucks coffee. For you too can bring a little bit of joy to even the most un-abled in your family. Big shout out to Jimmy P down in Tejas!


Blogger Phelps said...

I remember that Christmas! That's the year you and Mister High-and_mighty "I used to be able to fly" got drunk on Starbuck's eggnog-flavored espresso and made me dance with the Carmen Elektra female impersonator who was really Alvarado from the mail room. I was so humiliated. Alvarado smelled of Aquavelva and sour milk.

But he knew how to tango, and he let me lead.

8:18 AM  
Blogger Matt said...

I hate to break it to you, but that wasn't milk.

4:40 PM  
Blogger God of History said...

No Starbucks here. Our town doesn't have enough residents to rate a Starbucks...unless you could get the Census Bureau to condiser our "government" employees to be residents.

8:34 AM  
Blogger Phelps said...

By "government employees" do you mean "correctional facility population?"
I figure you must live near a prison, what with your appetite for abusing death penalty prostestors. I can see you now, standing outside the prison gate, 15 minutes before midnight, waving your marshmallow on a stick and chanting "Cook him! Cook him!". [see]

9:22 AM  

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