I've got a one way ticket to Christmasbreak Town (which is the county seat of Fantasmoville)

I'm leaving tomorrow at 5 a.m. I'll be headed for my homeland, a modest town in lower eastern Michigan called Lapeer. Lapeer is a nice place to live, especially when your parents own a soda shoppe, which mine do. I can get all the free ice cream cones and diet soda that I want. I can also get free sandwiches. Yum, sandwiches. Right now I am sitting in my room, perusing the Celebrity Playlists section of iTunes. I'm pretty happy because it turns out that Michael C. Hall (a.k.a. Dexter) and I would be fast friends in real life. He likes Lucinda Williams and Bob Dylan, just like me! And Neil Young. What? We're BFFs. Also, I would totally get along with the cast of How I Met Your Mother. That makes sense since that show is one of my obsessions. I've decided that I would have sex with Michael Cera, just based on his iTunes playlist.

So anyway, I'm sitting in my room. My TV is on. I don't even know what channel. I just like a little light background noise. Last night my cable box broke for the second time in two weeks. I don't think God wants me to watch Project Runway. That's pretty much the conclusion I've come to. I guess NBC is bringing back American Gladiators...FINALLY. What the hell took you so long, NBC? I started off every Saturday morning as a kid with a healthy dose of muscle mania. Um.........no. Well, I actually did used to watch American Gladiators. But, I don't think it's really Primetime TV material. But what the hey, ya know? I'm all for really muscly guys wearing tank tops that barely fit. Well, actually no, I'm not all for that. But I love blond permed mullets. Well, actually no, I don't. So OK, back to what I was talking about: God doesn't want me to have cable. I have never smote God in my entire life, so I don't know where He gets off depriving me of the one thing that gives me joy. But the good news is: God hasn't messed with my Internet connection lately. That's why I carry around those Rosary beads.

For dinner tonight I had Chinese food. I asked the waitress if I could substitute fried rice for my steamed rice (Os!) and she seemed really put-out about that. She was all, "No, no, absolutely not. Not even if you owned this place and were the head chef could you do that." I said, "Really? I can't substitute, even for a price?" She implied that the price of substituting fried rice for steamed was much more than I would be willing to pay. The look she gave me said this: Sure, you can substitute fried rice for steamed. Um, just give me a pint of blood. I'm really good at reading people.

Later tonight, after seeing a chiller at the local Cineplex, I walked my friend Josh back to his apartment. Then as we were standing around in his kitchen talking, I got the oddest feeling that he was hiding a human head in his freezer. I lunged for the freezer door, but he blocked me. Then I gave him a look that said: you and I both know you've got a human head in there. And he gave me a look back that said: you're not ready to see what I've got in there...unless you want me to dismember you. I left after that because, you know what? It's almost Christmas. I don't want to ruin Christmas for my family by getting dismembered.