So this is Christmas!

Hello Christians!
I assume that since you all celebrated Christ-mas that you must be Christ-ones. Otherwise, what in the world were you thinking! I think it's so great that the most wonderful holiday of the year, is the one where we celebrate the birth of the only super-hero of all time - our savior Jesus Christ, the only son of God. Now, who are the hypocrites! Could it be the ones who celebrate that which they do not believe? Well 'nuff said!
Bytheway, you probably know my title is from a John Lennon song. How ironic! I really don't know what to write about. I'm kind of like Mr. Ed, the horse who will never talk, unless he has something to say. There was nothing ironic, dumb or scary about the last couple of days! I won't bore you with the details, because you probably had a grandbaby at your house who was the cutest thing too. She probably kissed her presents and carried them around. She probably stood on her head and sat in your laps and gave you hugs and kisses too. You probably got nice gifts like movies, including Jimmy Stewart, and a model 68 Camaro like the one you drove in the 70's and a cool game like the baby boomers retirement game. You have to be over 40 just to play that one. There were other gifts like nice clothes that fit, cosmetics, Elmo, Jack in the Box, digital photo albums, shavers and a thing that shines all kinds of light patters and colors on the ceiling. Too bad we weren't playing white elephant. I would have taken that one. Well, not from Raegan. She's only 20 months old and I'm 663. And the food! You probably had food too! You probably had hamburger casserole, the one casserole I like, roast turkey, deviled eggs, stewed apples, Watergate salad, muffins, cinnamon bread, and cheese cake for desert. We played the sequence game. There were other gifts like Auburn Deli Mustard, Ga Deli Mustard, penguin ties and a Curious George book for one young at heart.
It was a fun day. It really wiped me out! There was little sarcasm or dumbness or irony there, which usually gets me started. There was much laughter but mostly out of joy at no ones expense. I could have just said it was nice! But then yours was probably nice too!
I'm on vacation and guess what I'm doing? Okay, you know what I'm doing unless you failed the old army test and don't know your gluteus maximas from a hole in the ground. Speaking of, my maximus is somewhat enlarged with all of the Christmas eating. I'll have to work on that. In fact, I'm going to the doctor on Monday, I think, or Tuesday. It doesn't matter. It's a foregone conclusion. My special wife (only wife, in case you're wondering and I'm not taking applications. Maybe tryouts but no applications. just kidding-very kidding. no responses anyway) Back to the unparenthesis. My wife, whom I love, has already seen my blood work and diagnosed my predicament. She is a nurse. Every family should have one. A wife and a nurse. I already know that my bad cholesterol is bad and even my good cholesterol is bad. My number one daughter in law, Kelly informed me that I am evil and she is right. The dentist knew it and now I'm going to the doctor. My cholesterol is evil. Even the good one is evil. I have bad blood pressure and bad blood sugar. So there! Confession is good for the soul. I'm told I will have to take Lipitor. That sounds like a bullfighter with an attitude!. I will take you, stupid bull, and stick swords in your back, until you say "tio", that's "uncle" in spanish. Not to be confused with Theo from the Bill Cosby show. I don't like bull fighting. It takes little courage. If the bull is too mean, they come out and do the pin cushion thing with 5 foot swords in the back. What takes courage, and a quart of Tequila, is running down those narrow streets of Pamplona, Spain with 957 other drunken fools, with several wild raging bulls behind you and no swords. Not even a brain to fight with. They sound this horn to release the bulls into the street. They probably think they are racing for their freedom. They are really racing towards doom, captivity in the bull ring. Not a chance the bull could actually win. Then they sound the horn again to let the people know the bulls are in the street. Kind of like tooting your car horn after an accident! The goal of the runners is to feel the bulls breath on their backs. Some people fly from other continents, in airplanes, to do this. This goal is entirely obtainable, The second goal of living thru it, is a little harder. You let the bull get close and then you jump out of the way. Well that's just stupid. Of course the bulls get killed and slaughtered anyway.
This Lipitor, I hear has all kind of side effects, and other effects besides side. I would never take Rogain because of it's side effects. Like it sucks all of the protein from your bones to make hair. Then your bones dissolve and you become a slug like in that movie, where all the guy could do was slither around on the floor or wiggle like jello. He mostly sat there like a pile of hairy mashed potatoes. Help me Quayle! Enough food metaphors. This Lipitor can make your knees weak, make you lose your mind and your liver do back flips. Like when I met my wife! And then there's something for blood pressure. That's good, because I think the reason I appear overweight is because all of my veins and arteries are swollen from the high blood pressure. Maybe I won't need to diet after all. I'm feeling better about this. And then there is blood sugar. Being a true southerner, coke runs in my veins. I will probably go into a depression causing tropical storms and need more meds for that. Look, let's get one thing straight! Down South, "Pop" is always followed by "Goes the Weasel" and soda is something you put in your bath water when you have uh - let's see, what's the medical term - raw maximas. So let's not confuse that with coke. Even if it says pepsi, we still call it coke! I truly believe the additives they put in diet foods are more harmful than just eating sugar and salt. If my sweet wife does want to rub me out, I think she will do it by adding sweet and low or aspartame to my foods. I might just eat grass. I wonder which is best, fescue or bermuda? But then I need to know what's in the fertilizer. Cow dung? And what's in the pesticides, probably aspartame. Maybe I'll go on the subway diet. If only I could start a new exclusive diet and write a book, maybe a movie! Maybe the popcorn diet. You can fix popcorn a thousand different ways..popcorn without butter, popcorn without sugar, popcorn w/o salt, popcorn w/o shrimp, popcorn w/o broccoli-my favorite, But, I'm not giving you the whole list. You'll have to buy the book! I'm not worried about the doctor's visit. I've already been stuck for blood. Oooooh! The lady who took my blood, Dorongodo, I think her ancestors were Zulus or something, not because of the grass skirt or bone in her nose. No, it wasn't even that Watusi thing she was doing. I didn't know you could get blood from under your fingernails! That was new for me! It took about seven tries. I would rather she had just stuck my eyeball. Anyway it's over. I've already had the garden hose up the back alley, so that shouldn't happen. Maybe I'll do that for next Christmas. Then they can play Christmas music instead of "Going Up the Country" by Canned Heat or "Up, Up and Away" by Fifth Dimension. That one's good for Angioplasty. I'm now working on my resume for surgical music consultant. My new title, Walter C Lewis SMC GGR. We'll play "Save Your Heart for Me" by Gary Lewis and the Playboys for heart surgery. For head transplants, we'll play "Put Your Head on My Shoulder" by Paul Anka. For plastic surgery, we'll play "The Shadow of Your Smile' by Frank Sinatra. If you've never been tubing read Dave Barry's article on colonoscopy. It's the funniest thing I ever read! How's that Dave? Still got my address? for the check? They aren't giving me any shots. Oh, how I wish they would instead of the pills every day. I'm 55. By the time I reach 70, I can get my exercise by lifting my pill organizer. The last time I went to the doctor, he took one look and said, you look like you feel like poop. Glad he said feel instead on smell, or did he. I don't know. I did feel like poop. This time I feel good. When I felt bad he said, you really needed to stay home in bed. This I knew, but I needed a doctors excuse to go back to work. I needed some excuse to go back, because I really didn't want to go. Their policy states, If you feel well enough to go to the doctor, you're well enough to go to work. I agree. When I don't feel good, I don't want to get out and sit in a doctors office. My doctor is a nice guy. I wish I could just play tennis with him instead being sent to a neurologist or psychiatrist.

I shall eat, drink and be merry this weekend, for tomorrow I die!

Merry Christmas! I love you all!

disclaimer: if you don't understand some of this, read ALL of the earlier posts. You wouldn't start reading a recipe or an algebra book from the middle would you? I wouldn't at all! If after you read the other posts, you still don't understand, try bull running or working for the IRS.