Love Punch & Other Collected Columns. Rob Hiaasen

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Название Love Punch & Other Collected Columns
Автор произведения Rob Hiaasen
Жанр Биографии и Мемуары
Серия
Издательство Биографии и Мемуары
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781627202244



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of Christmas

      My true love sent to me:

      5 Golden Rings

      4 Calling Birds—do they have to call? Can’t they sit quietly and think underwhelming bird thoughts?

      3 French Hens—solidarity. Check.

      2 Turtle Doves—not real turtles.

      And no need for that first stuff we mentioned.

      * * *

      On the sixth day of Christmas

      My true love sent to me:

      6 Geese a Laying

      5 Golden Rings—You didn’t tap into our IRAs, did you?

      4 Calling Birds—That can call from another zip code.

      3 French Hens—Vive la France!

      2 Turtle Doves—Vive la Dinner!

      But there’s no need for threatening violence against turtle doves.

      * * *

      On the seventh day of Christmas

      My true love sent to me:

      7 Swans a Swimming

      6 Geese a Laying—Try: 6 Geese a Staying Away from Other Frisky Geese.

      5 Golden Rings—Think one ring. Zales.

      4 Calling Birds—Retired.

      3 French Hens—Growing on me.

      2 Turtle Doves—Bacon-wrapped, pepper-spiked, with oozing cream cheese...

      And the reason for being chintzy on the rings is because it cost $1,100 to have one chintzy dead Chestnut tree chopped down lest it crush my home for the holidays.

      * * *

      On the eighth day of Christmas

      My true love sent to me:

      8 Maids a Milking

      7 Swans a Swimming—Where?

      6 Geese a Laying—Platonically.

      5 Golden Rings—Zirconium.

      4 Calling Birds—Mute.

      3 French Hens—Love them!

      2 Turtle Doves—With a Syrah or a nice Chardonnay.

      And I’m sorry but any number of maids a milking doesn’t sound like an appropriate gift.

      * * *

      On the ninth day of Christmas

      I napped.

      * * *

      On the tenth day of Christmas

      I un-napped.

      * * *

      On the eleventh day of Christmas

      My true love gave to me:

      11 Pipers Piping—No.

      10 Lords a Leaping—No.

      9 Ladies Dancing—Yes.

      8 Maids a Milking—No.

      7 Swans a Swimming—No.

      6 Geese a Laying—No.

      5 Golden Rings—No.

      4 Calling Birds—No.

      3 French Hens—Yes.

      2 Turtle Doves—No.

      1 Partridge in a Pear Tree—No.

      * * *

      On the twelfth day of Christmas

      My true love gave to me:

      Assorted Drummers Piping, Pipers Drumming, Lords a Milking, Ladies Calling, Maids a Swimming, Swans a Doving, Geese a Sneezing, Lord of the Rings, Very Quiet Birds, French Hens, Turtle Doves, and, I give up —

      Throw in the partridge in a pear tree, too.

      Dear Santa. I want stuff. Thank you.

      December 6, 2015

      How about a R2-D2 humidifier for a stocking stuffer?

      Dear Santa,

      Howdy.

      My kids tease me about saying “howdy” because while I’m a Southerner, I’m not thatmuch a Southerner. You’re a Northerner, of course. How do you greet people at the North Pole? I’m guessing “howdy’ is out of place. More of a formal “hello” kind of deal? Yes, I’m stalling because it’s not my nature to jump right into asking for stuff.

      I want tougher gun laws.

      No, no, just kidding! I could use a new wallet. Mine is frayed. It’s a serious problem. I can’t expect to maintain my breakneck level of professional success with a weakened wallet.

      I want an international climate deal.

      Come on, fooled you again Santa! I’d really like a Mistletoe Drone. I saw one for $70 in the Hammacher Schlemmer catalog. This is the mistletoe that imparts whimsical cheer to holiday gatherings when hovered remotely over celebrants’ heads. Imagine flying that baby at the office party! For those of you whose office parties were discontinued because of the exorbitant cost to your multi-million dollar corporate owners, fly the drone on some random Friday at work. Imagine the festive sexual harassment lawsuits!

      I want peace in Baltimore.

      Sorry, I’m cracking myself up here. Seriously, I want WD-40 with a Smart Straw. I ran out. This is important. (P.S. I love that straw, so please make sure my new WD-40 has one. Thank you.)

      I want anyone caught poaching an elephant or enjoying recreational lion hunting to serve time at Guantanamo.

      Just a little wildlife slaughter humor there! Seriously, I want an R2-D2 humidifier just in time for the new “Star Wars.” Artoo also incorporates a night light to ensure a room does not slip over to the Dark Side. If you can throw in a Darth Vader Barbesaber for my next barbecue and maybe the Darth Vader Toaster that imprints “Star Wars” on each evil slice of bread, I promise not to ask for another thing, Santa.

      I want peace in Syria.

      Got you again! Who do you think I am—a holiday buzz kill? Santa, I got two words for you: plantar fasciitis. Nothing says holiday spirit more than plantar fasciitis. Peyton Manning has it. I have it (we have so much in common). Again look no further than Hammacher Schlemmer: Item #1: The Gentleman’s Plantar Fasciitis Herringbone Slippers. Item #2: The Plantar Fasciitis Insoles. Item #3: The Plantar “Twister” Game—for the sore of heel and young at heart (not featured in catalog).

      I want comprehensive immigration reform.

      Like a hole in the head!

      OK, I’ll stop kidding around. Honest, I want a Charlie Brown Musical Christmas Tree authentically wrapped in Linus’ blanket. With that one ornament and sad little pine tree. Because like Linus, I know the real meaning of the holidays.

      The real meaning is wanting and buying stuff from catalogs.

      Everyone knows that.

      It’s the most wonderful time of the year

      December 22, 2013

      “What do you want for Christmas?”

      “Let’s not get each other anything this year.”

      It’s the most wonderful time of the year

      With the kids jingle belling

      And everyone telling you “Be of good cheer”

      It’s the most wonderful time of the year...

      “We say this every year, and we end up getting each other something.”

      “Seriously, let’s not