the window licking cat

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Location: St. Paul, MN

I have a goal. I would like everyone that has ever known me to have at least one funny story that they can share with everyone at my wake, and then it can be a happy occasion, instead of a somber one.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Voice From The Grave

First if all I would like to say that i have no inea when anyone will read this, or if they even care to read this, but I am doing this to make closure. It is time to put an end to a chapter in my life that I thought I would never close. There have been several issues that have led up to this chapter needing to be closed, and I will approach each and every one of them in this one post.

I am going to let anyone that really cares know first of all that I am not dead, I am alive and I am happy. In fact I am the happiest I have ever been in my life. Does that mean everything is perfect? No, because nothing is, just like me. I am not a perfect human being, no one is, and if you think that there is a perfect human, or if you even think that you are perfect, you are mistaken. I wake up every day more in love with my wife than I was the day before. My children are happy and healthy, they are getting A's and B's in school. (For those of you out there that said the children were too stupid to ever get anything above a C in school, go to hell. Straight to hell with your flaming, flowering handbasket.) I included that last thought because there were a few people in the life of my children that had said that, not just to me, but to the children as well. To let you know, you are not thought of ever, unless of course the children have woken up screaming because of a nightmare that involved living with you and your obnoxious ass.

My emotional health has never been better than it is right now. I feel like I am needed, wanted, loved. I no longer feel like a tool to a person that they use to make themselves feel "special". As a matter of fact, I now realize that I am more to a person than a "30 year old piece of eye candy with a spare tire". I have purpose, I have meaning, I have love in my life. I live in a relationship, not a dictatorship. I have an equal partner in life, not a boss that I have to answer to. I no longer have to change the way that I live in order to avoid the wrath of another, I can be myself and be loved for doing it.

I feel as if I am needed by the ones that are around me for more than just the person that will be there for them when they need someone around them. Unfortunately I had the feeling that I was a friend, a person that you could talk to you and want to talk to. Not the person that you used as a sounding board because no one else was available. That is exactly how I felt after three years of what I thought was a freindship, I find out that when things have changed for the better in my life you were only happy when I was miserable. Why? Why would you want a friend to be miserable instead of happy? Why would you rather revel in thier misery instead of celebrating in the joy of their happiness? It wasn't just me that had that happen to them, it was also one of our other so called friends that you did that to as well. True that some of the things that the other friend did were not always the best, or at times were really disrespectful, but he was still a friend none the less. I have come to admit to myself that I had treated him differently because I had allowed my perceptiopn to be skewed based on what you were going through. Now I regret it because I cannot bring myself to find him and let him know that I never truely meant to shun him. If he is reading this or if anyone knows how to get a message to him feel free to let him know that I wish him the best in life and I hope that what you found with your partner is the true love you have always been looking for.

If It seems that I am over-reacting at all let me give you the best examples that I can give you to show you why I feel the way I do. True I did leave the situation I was in rather abruptly and mysteriously, not contacting anyone while I did it, I had my reasons for that. That does not mean I was cutting myself off from anyone, what I was doing was protecting my children and myself. Once I was able to make myself available for a conversation so I could explain myself, I was treated like an asshole. I was made to feel like the happiness that I had found was of no concern to you or the other so called friends of the circle. It is sad to me to think that getting a relationship and finding emotional strength and stability would be a reason for my friends to stop calling and hanging out with me. You had been out of the country while I did what I did, and then when I brought my now wife around to meet you and meet my friends that were important to me, we were both treated as if we were invisible and of no consequence to you. I hadn't seen you in over a month, and no conversation was attempted, I was just given your Ipod and ignored while I looked at the pictures that wre on their from your trip. Once I finally did get a hold of you on the phone I was given a cold shoulder while I was on the phone, sorry if I was in the middle of making dinner for my children when you called me, but that is what a man with a life, who is a parent, does.

The one and only cause for the dissolution of the "friendship" that was once held in high regards was not anything that I had done, but it was because of actions from my so called friends. I had replaced, in your minds, the other friend that we had all missed once he started a relationship and was not able to devote so much time to us as he was once able to do. People that have lives, and relationships like the ones we have, are not able to spend as much time with our friends as we once did. However that does not mean that we wanted the friendship to end. I did try to make sense of the dissaperance of what i once had in my best friend, I have not been able to do that. I was not the one that decided to stop the friendship, it was never said out loud what did it, but it was felt from the actions that came after our last meeting.

So long to all of those who happen across this message, I wish you no ill will, but I do want you to know that I wish a good full life in what ever aspect you decide to live it. I was never once fake or untruthful in any of my feelings, or actions, towards you. They were all real. To know that my feelings do not matter to you hurts, it hurts real bad. I am not trying to give back the same hurt, but I am trying to give an explanation. The time has finally come for me to stop being such a wuss and stop avoiding my feelings, the mystery is now over.

The reason I am no longer around is because of you and your actions.


Matt Satriano

Friday, February 11, 2005


I thought that I would type about something that has happened in my life more than once, although I cannot back this up with pictures, it was quite funny and I will try to tell the tale in words that create a picture. I have been the witness to two of my friends getting revenge pulled on them from spurned girlfriends. The first one was kinda scary, the second one was just plain funny, and tasty. Keep reading and you will know what I mean.

"Oh My God Dude, What Asylum Did She Come From?"

My one friend, Randall (not a real name), decided to call it quits with his girlfriend, Lucy Fir, after several things had happened to him. One of the main things that had happened was the fact that every time they would go to a party, he would have to pull Lucy off of some guy just so they could leave. Nice, huh? Anyway, after too many things like that had happened to him, and after he finally gained some courage about himself and who he was, he decided to purge his system of Lucy Fir. That is where the story takes a very funny, albeit very scary, turn.

Lucy Fir is not a woman to play with. She made this quite clear with the various threats and scare tactics she used. She would call Randall up and remind him every day to "Watch his back". She would leave messages that detailed where he had gone the day before, and with he had gone there with, along with how long he spent inside each place he went. In general, she was stalking him, and doing a rather good job of it, because we never once saw her trailing us. One of the great tricks that is given to a person at birth when they are evil. One day, after the messages stopped, two messages were left. One was a tear choked voice saying "I can't believe you would do this to me. ME! After all of the great times we had together, and all of the great sex we had! You would throw me away like garbage! You bastard! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard! I love you." The machine beeped to signal the end of the message, and then we laughed. Mainly because she screamed all those horrible things and then told him that she loved him. Then the machine beeped to signal the start of another message.

I felt the hair on the back of my neck (yes I had hair then) stand up when I heard her voice. Something in it spoke of evil, ancient, dark, frightening evil. I think that it was the way she was calm, way too calm, when she left the following message:

"If you would like to know exactly what I intend to do to you, look outside your window after you get this message. You should understand then. Love ya."

The machine beeped, we looked at each other and had this spark of fright jump between us, and then we nearly knocked each other down to get to the window. There in the middle of his yard, which was shielded by a privacy fence and tall shrubs, was a make shift bonfire. It looked to be about three feet in height, the flames stretching another three feet above that. What she had used to create this burning tee-pee structure was what scared me the most, and what prompted me to ask the question that is the title of this story.

At first glance you could see the wood that was used, she had found slats that are used to make a picket fence, and layed them against each other to create a pyramid. When looking closer at the stakes you could see stuffed animals, but not just any stuffed animals, but stuffed rabbits, tied to each stake. Their burning fur turning from brown and white, to black and crispy. (I wonder if that is an actual color you could find in a Sherwin-Williams store?) After asking Randall where Lucy Fir was from, I then saw a look of utter fear on his face. I asked him, other than just having his life threatened, what would create that look. He told me that one of his pet names for her was his "Furry Little Rabbit". It was quite funny having to explain to the police what we were putting out and why it was there.

From the last I have heard about Lucy Fir, she no longer lives in Minnesota. She moved after serving her sentence of sixty days in jail for threating and inappropriate behavior.

Revenge Can Please The Palette

The other story that I would like to share is about my friend William. (Not his real name) He had a history of being a little bit of a player, and he would have at one time, more than three girls on his plate. Well, that caught up to him one night, and I am glad that I was there to witness it,because it gaveme a great midnight snack.

We were down in William's basement where he lived with his Grandma, before he could find a place of his own. Well there we were just sitting around laughing and smiling, thinking of all the funny things that have happened to us in the past. I remember laughing so hard that my sides hurt, we all got hungry and decided to go out to Perkins. It was then that I we saw what had happened to William's pride and joy, his car.

Apparently while we were downstairs and laughing, one of William's concubines (what else can you call them?) decided to exact some revenge on something that he prized. I can only thank her for what she did, because it was yummy.

William had one of the long CB antennas on his car, do you know what I mean? The kind that attaches to the front of the car and then is held in place by a clip on the back of the car? That is what he had on his car. What this woman decided to do is line the entire antennae with snack cakes. From one end to the other, she had slid Ho-Ho's and Dingo-Dongs. First it was a Ho-Ho then it was a Ding-Dong. (For those out there that do not know what a Ho Ho or a Ding Dong is, a Ho-Ho is a chocolate snack cake, that is rolled with whip cream in side of it and then covered in chocolate. A Ding-Dong is a round chocolate snack cake fille with whip cream and then covered in chocolate. Both of them are really, really yummy.) On the windshield of the car she had taken a package of Oreo's and split them apart to spell the word "DICK" on his window. She then slid Ho-Ho's and Ding-Dongs on his windshield wipers, in that same repeating pattern. Along the sides of the car she used Oreo's and packages of Cheese and Crackers to spell things like "Loser" "User" and a rather nasty word that begins with an "F" and ends in "ucker". (That word was spelled across the back window in Oreo's).

We all stopped and looked at his car, a traveling advertisement for snack cakes, and I am not sure who started, but one of us started to laugh, while the other ones slowly joined in. It was rather amusing to see the look on William's face when he walked outside of his Grandma's house. It started as a smile, and then slowly dissovled into a rather ugly grimace of anger and frustration, then it went into a hard frown that made it look his head had been split across the middle. He was not pleased. "Jackass (he was referring to me because I was the one that was literally on the ground laughing, holding my stomach) go see what the hell that bitch put on my car."

I pulled myself up and walked down to the car, wiping tears off my face with my friend Randall (yes the same one) and we studied the car. I said that it was ok to come down and see what she did, before William would move however he wanted to know what it was on the car. Here is where it gets funny, being that it was slightly drizzling outside, the food did not look like food anymore. The Ho-Hos and Ding-Dongs looked like wet pieces of turd, and Randall was afraid to touch them. I however knew exactly what they were once I saw them, and to everyone's disgust (at first) I pulled a Ho-Ho off of the antennae and took a bite out of it. Chocolate was running down my face, and all over my fingers, but I said (with a mouth full of Ho-Ho, which they thought was a turd) "It's f---ing delicious!" I smiled and let some of the chocolate run down my face, and then grabbed a Ding Dong to eat. Everyone else came up to the car and started to peel and pull food off of William's car and we all enjoyed a wet, soggy, but delicious midnight snack.

Hope you enjoyed these stories.


Saturday, February 05, 2005

Music Meme: I Have Finally Done One Dana!!

I finally did one of the memes that Beth has posted on her site, and Dana should be happy to know that I did one as well.

1. Song that feels like happy is:
“One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies

2. Earliest music memory:
I remember crying when I was six or seven listening to "Cats in the Cradle"

3. Last CD that I bought:
“Moulin Rouge” and “Moulin Rouge 2” Soundtracks

4. Reminds you of school:
“Master of Puppets,” “Ride the Lightning” from Metallica. Also anything from Bell Biv Devoe and Vanilla Ice, along with Young MC and Tone Loc. I also have some fond memories of Faith No More and pretty much anything that was Classic Rock.

5. Total music files in your PC:
Unsure of that at this time, just started to recently download my CD collection, plus I have all of the downloaded BNL concerts from my Little Sister, Beth.

6. Song for listening to repeatedly when depressed:
“Fast Car” from Tracy Chapman, and “Landslide” from Fleetwood Mac

7. Song that sounds British but isn’t:
“Seven Nation Army” from The White Stripes

8. Song you love, band you hate:
God help me for saying this, but “Heart Shaped Box” from Nirvana

9. Favorite song from the past that took ages to track down:
“Mexican Radio” from Wall of Voodoo and “One Night in Bangkok” from Murray Head

10. Bought the album for one good song:
“Keep on Groovin” from Soul to Soul. Name of the song? “Back to Life”

11. Worst song to get stuck in your head:
“Fly Like an Eagle” Steve Miller Band

12. Best song to dump a beer on someone’s head and then storm out of a bar to:
“Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit. It is truly one of the few times that I can recall nothing but pure adulterated rage being put into words and music, it is freakin’ awesome!!!!!!

13. Who should do this next?
Keem, oh Keem? Where for art thou Keem?

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Work-The Necessary Aggravation of LIfe

I work with some incredibly stupid, dumb ass asses. That is what I have come to believe this past week. If I could list all of the reasons that they are dumb it would take too damn long to type and or print, so I will not. But I will sum it all up by saying this, they are lazy. Stupid, dumb ass asses I can handle, but laziness, I cannot, and sad to say I nearly lost it this week.

Let us start the anger off by the example of Lola. Lola is a bad wig wearing, know it all, unbelievably irritating crotch. I am sorry, I know that is crude, but damn it she’s a crotch. How hard is it to address envelopes and then stuff said envelopes with three sheets of paper? Do you think that you could maybe get this done when only ten people at the most come into the clinic that need the letters sent off? Is there any reason why you would have a stock pile of them from three weeks ago? (Yes I said three weeks ago!) When the only other responsibilities you have are to check people in (should only take three minutes, at the most, why does it take her fifteen? Because she’s a crotch) and scan out charts (wave a light from a wand over the back of the file, listen for beep, you have scanned out a chart-why does she have charts from five days ago? Crotch) and organize papers into a packet? Why does she have a stock pile of work left over? Because she is lazy and a dumb ass, that is why she is irritating.

The other person that I would like to use as an example is Floofy. I have no other name for her at this moment except Floofy, she is a lazy dumb ass. Her responsibilities include checking people out (five minutes each, at the worst), sending off letters that let people know that they missed an appointment (no reason to have those left over from a week ago-not hard to stuff an envelope), and her main duty is to annoy everyone that she comes into contact with (which she excels at-ARRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!!!). She also has the duty of getting the charts from downstairs, bringing them up in a rolling cart, and scanning them in. (Wave light bar over bar code, listen for beep, congratufuckinglations, you have just scanned in a goddamn chart) I do not know how she has even got the job she has, but she is very close to losing it, because when you are constantly late for work and you come into work drunk, or bragging of how drunk you got the night before, people question you and then get you referred to a program that helps you with your drinking problem. Oh, and if you don’t go to this program it is possible that you will be terminated and/or sent away from your place of employment with no hopes of ever being rehired. Let me just ask you this, if this happened to you would you blame everyone else that they hate you? You would if you were Floofy and you were a dumb ass lazy shit.
Now for the real reason for my aggravation, the one person that is actually worth anything at the clinic, meaning the one other person that actually does work as required, Latonna, said something that truly made me angry last week. Latonna knows that I already work like I am five people when I am at work, and she knows that I am already doing other duties for people as well as my own, and yet she had the nerve to say to me that I am not doing enough to help out around the clinic. I was not amused. I did not hold back when I told her my anger on this particular item, which is uncommon for me. I have the understanding that a smooth running work environment is a productive environment, so I usually avoid confrontations at work. Not this time however, not this time. I think it was summed up in the few simple words that I carefully choose when she expressed this particular nugget of information. What were the words that I chose to use? I thought long and hard, for a few seconds anyway, when I said to her, “What the fuck?”

The look on Latonna’s face was priceless and could never be repeated through words, but let me just say that she understood how angry she made me when I asked her to come into my office and I let her have it. I explained to her that I am already scheduling for Neurology, for Gastrointestinal, for Psychology, for Nephrology (also known as Renal), for Endocrinology and Diabetes, and I am now going to be the scheduler for the International Adoption Clinic. Not to mention that I also order all of the supplies and make the orders for the forms that the clinic needs each week, on top of doing all of the labels each day and arranging and organizing the packets for us to use, I also reminded Latonna that I do part of her job by looking up the medical codes for her to enter into the charge entry that she does each day. After sharing this with her I asked her if she sees me helping Floofy and Lola with their jobs because they can’t seem to get them done, and I also help the nurses and the clinic staff get their jobs done by making sure everyone is aware of the patients and their needs, as well as being a liaison for the doctors, the nurses, and the front des staff. I also reminded Latonna that I am not even a supervisor, yet everyone seems to think that I am. I looked at her and said, “So in between all of this, what else do you feel I can do to help out more than what I am doing, other than cloning myself and having to put up with two of me running around?” Once again, the look on her face can never be described through mere words, needless to say I have never seen that particular look on a person’s face before, it was priceless.

I expressed all of this to my new supervisor, and she was more than surprised by what I had to say. I asked her why, and her answer was that no one has ever told her all of the things that I actually do around the clinic. Let me ask you now, the fact that she had never been told of the different things that all of us do around the clinic, should I not be angry? Am I wrong for feeling this? I feel like I am, but I also do not at the same time. Please help me understand if my anger is warranted or not, I beg you.

Thank you for letting me vent and blow off some needed steam, it actually has really helped out a little bit. I appreciate the fact that you took the time to read this, it means a lot to me. Once again, thank you.

Any comments you feel to share at this time would also be accepted, as well as being appreciated.


Saturday, January 08, 2005

My Boy, Riley

Here is my son Riley. Do you ever wonder why I get scared of him? He decided to wear the mask all on his own, I was lucky enough to have my camera ready when he did this. I love him, he is simply amazing. Sometimes though, he gets a little crazy. Posted by Hello

Being Sick.......Sucks

I really have nothing to report today, other than the fact that I feel sick, sick sick sick. I was at work yesterday when the sickness hit me, it sucks. My head feels like a giant balloon, my hands feel like they are floating around my head somewhere, and my nose is stuffy. Last night I took some Nyquil, and man did it knock me flat. But yet I woke up still feeling sick. I am more than likely going to have some more Nyquil later on tonight, if I survive that long, and then get some more sleep and possibly have some weird dreams. I do not k now yet. Don’t ask me why, but just typing that last line reminded me that I have to fix my son’s dresser. See how incredibly random this is making me?

I will update everyone, if they want me to, on how my sickness is going. I usually do not get sick, but when I do, it is sick. I couch and it feels like my mouth is filled with a wad of lung cookies, my lungs feel as if they have boulders in them, and my head keeps floating in the clouds. Oh look, here comes a Boeing 747, better move out of the way.

Hope everyone else is feeling better than I am, this truly does suck.


Thursday, December 30, 2004

Why Did I Wake Up Today?

First of all, let me just say that today was NOT a good day at work. Before I even got to work, I had to deal with dumb ass drivers and rain, in winter, in Minnesota. Stupid asses. Here is a good idea, if you live in a state that has different weather patterns than say seventy all year long, why don’t you learn to drive in the shit? Just because a rain drop falls on your windshield, or Yawaeh forbid a snow flake, don’t panic. It is water, your car is a ton of fricking metal, who do you think will win the contest? If the roads look slippery, slow the f—k down, duh! I am so sick and tired of these window licking drivers that feel they own the roas, when they should realize that I OWN IT!!!! ARRRRRRRRRGH!

So then I get to work, nicotined and caffeined out, along with rage coursing through my veins, and go to log on to the Allah-damned computer, only to find out it is down. We had a system wide melt down in our University today. Oh frabjous day! Calloh! Callah! Considering that we are a clinic that is computer based, what do you think happened? Well if you guessed all out panic, pandemonium, and sheer madness, you won a car. Not to mention the fact that all the parents of the kids, and some of the kids to boot, decided to come into our clinic, pissed off because they don’t know how to drive in bad weather. Assholes! Do you know how off putting it is to have a little child look at you and put out a cigarette on your shoe because he just spent the last two hours in a car listening to his mother scream and screech, and have the father hoarse because he spent the entire time yelling at people and becoming creative with the use of swear words? Well neither do I, at least I don’t know what it is like to have a child put a cigarette out on my shoe, but I did listen to some rather unique voices from the parents today.

Why is it that when things like this happen your co-workers decide to pick that exact moment to become imbeciles? We covered this in our Catastrophe Awareness Plan, remember the part on Computer Freak Outs? Why? Why? Why? Why did my co worker, let’s name her Bippy, why did Bippy think she was the ruler? Just like the dumb ass drivers on the road she thought she was the one in charge, when clearly I am. (Please let me have my fantasy….thank you) Bippy decided to take charge, and throw the world of The Clinic into nothing short of Hades, on a bad day. Parents yelling, co-workers getting mad, all because she decided to sit there and make it seem like she can handle pressure. Ever see what happens when a pressure cooker builds up too much and then has to release? That’s right, it’s wig goes flying across the lobby and frightens some poor, little, suffering from ADD and out of his medication child and makes him scream leaping into his mother’s arms, yelling something about, “KILL THE BAD MONKEY MOMMY!!!!!” Well…..maybe that is an exaggeration since pressure cookers don’t wear wigs.

After the computer came back on line, then we had to dig ourselves out of the mess of paper work that had piled up. Oh and we had to find a suitable replacement for the wig that went flying across the lobby, it is amazing what you can do with gauze, medical tape, and glue. Couldn’t even tell the difference from the original wig and the replacement. Michaelangelo would have been jealous.

As I was nearing the end of the paper work snafu, I noticed that I was sweating quite a bit. I thought that maybe the IRS was finally done threating and was really doing the audit that they have always promised would happen to me, I mean with the amount of sweat I had on my body I felt like the proverbial whore in church. I went to go ask if it was hot in here or just me, but before I could, I noticed that all of the nurses had their shirts off and that answered the question for me. It also helped answer the other question of why all of a sudden all of the dads wanted to bring their kids into the doctor rooms instead of the mothers. Here I thought they were just being nice to their wives, those nasty pigs. Ok, another exaggeration, I wasn’t sweating THAT bad, but I was sweating.

Then on the way home, more of the same idiotic Hey-Zeus Damn drivers (I think they were the same ones, they just waited for me to go home, how nice) were on the road. After battling through them I had to stop at the store and pick up some shredded cheese so that Scott could finish making home made pizza for dinner. (Which by the way was absolutely divine) Inside the store I wanted to bitch slap no less than five children because of the way they were yelling, YELLING, at their parents. Let my kids try that once, just once, they won’t like the outcome, I can guarn-goddamn-tee you that. As I was standing in line I though it would be nice to have some breath mints, why? Did my breath stink? Well maybe a little, but it was more for the way they just seem to make everything more refreshing to me. I stepped outside after paying the unemotional, devoid of all life, robotic cashier of death for my overpriced shredded dairy supplements and breath mints, and went to open the breath mints. My tongue was already tingling thinking about how good it was going to feel once I put them into my mouth, I was successful in getting the cardboard backing off of the packaging. My saliva glands were kicked into overdrive as I grabbed the bizarre little package in my hands. Some of the cardboard backing stuck to the little bottle of mints, thereby making a smaller version of the larger package in my hands, when they tumbled, flipped, and did a graceful swan dive into the garbage can that I was standing in front of. Saddened I went home, took a shower, ate some pizza and have told you my story. I hope you enjoyed it.


Thursday, December 23, 2004

A Warm Christmas Memory

One of my most favorite Christmas memories I will always cherish was something that my sister and I once did for my mom and dad to make their Christmas special. What we did was against the law, sorry but I am guilty of breaking a few of them, but it was with the best intentions involved. Yes I know, some of the worst things that ever happened were started because of the best intentions. Didn’t any one see Jurassic Park? Anyway, I digress, I was talking about my sister and me.
One thing that I would like to say before I start this story is this, my sister and I are not on the best of all speaking terms right now. It is because of something that happened between the two of us, something that was unintentional, yet it led to us having a falling out. I miss the times that we had together, some of them will be shared once I can bring myself around to remember them. I really do miss her.

One year my mother and father had hit rough times and they could not afford a Christmas tree. My sister and I had found out about this only moments before the jolly fat man was going to visit us for another year. (To let you know, we were old enough to have decided on our own that, in our minds at least, Santa does not exist-so it is not that sad.) My mother and father had gone to bed depressed and sad knowing that they would have a Christmas without the one Pagan item that is used to help us remember the birth of the Almighty’s Son, whom he eventually had whacked because The Almighty was mad at society, which had only been allowed to grow because of The Almighty’s divine intervention, creative imagination, and lack of hobby and decided to make Man. I am down off the soap box of Evilness for now (sorry Dana), any way Mom and Dad went to bed sad. My sister and I decided to make them smile the only way we knew how. I looked at my sister, and as we lit up our cigarettes I asked her, “Do you want to give mom and dad a smile?”

“Yea of course. Didn’t you see their fucking faces?,” she said as she was wiping tears off of her face. “How are we gonna do that?”

“I want to get them a tree,” a smile spreading across my face, “ they deserve a Christmas tree.”

“Do you have any money?” She knew the answer, but she felt like asking, because she secretly wanted to know if I was holding out on any of the mighty green paper that makes the world go round.“No, you took the rest of it when you bought us the cigarettes.”

“Then why did you bother opening your fucking mouth moron?” She always had a way with words that could send a warm, fuzzy feeling through you.

“Listen, you ray of sunshine. I know how we can get mom and dad a tree and not use any money to do it.” Can you guess what we planned on doing? Yes that’s right. You won the Golden Goose! Willy Wonka is going to bring you into his candy factory Charlie! We planned on robbing a Christmas tree from a lot that was selling them. But not just any lot, oh no, that would be too easy of a crime. No, instead we planned on robbing it from the nearby church that was in our neighborhood. Yet another reason why I am going to hell very fast without any brakes as my car plummets down the hill of destiny. We decided to steal a Christmas tree from Holy Ground. But please remember, we were doing it for the best intentions possible. We wanted to make my mother and father smile on Christmas morning.

We waited until we had finished our cigarettes and found the keys to mom and dads car, it was a beautiful gray Acura sedan without power sunroof and all of the fixings. (I believe it even had an ass warmer built into the seats….) It was the perfect Christmas tree heist vehicle if ever there was one.

When we found the keys to the Sin Mobile (because lets face it, if ever there was a sin, would not stealing a symbol that is supposed to represent the birth of Jesus from a church parking lot not be a sin?) we took off for our night of infamy. We went to liberate one of the fallen green soldiers of the forest from their internment camp. That just makes it sound so cool doesn’t it? Instead of saying something like, “Let’s go steal a fucking tree!”
Here we are, at the parking lot. It is empty as we approach. My sister turns off the radio, and then she turns off the lights. She finds a dark spot to park the car close to the fence. We can see all of the once mighty Warriors of Pine lined up against the wire surroundings. The once noble creatures of bark and needle are now withered, sad, limp, dried out, dying figures. These are the forgotten ones. The ones that everyone else that purchased trees felt were not good enough to bring home and decorate. These are the last kids picked for a game of baseball in gym class. The mighty Christmas Tree Nerds.

My sister turns the ignition off of the car, no reason for any excess noise I guess. She turns to me and says, “Alright. Let’s do it.” We open the car doors and step out, our feet crunching on the new fallen snow that has blanketed the frozen blacktop of the church parking lot. We walk around to the fence, surveying the sad heroes being held against their wills. My sister points to a tree and declares, “There it is. Behold! Excalibur!” I’m just shitting you, she turned and looked at me and said, “Move your ass numbnuts! I’m fucking freezing out here!”

Being that my sister asked me so politely, I walked over to the fence and started to climb. How can you turn down such kindness as that? I get my foot over the fence and then I lose my balance and plummet, six feet down, horizontally, and land on my face in powder and ice. Not too mention a few pine needles as well. I lay there, hurting, wanting nothing more than my sister to tear the fence down and pick me up, carry me back to the Sin Wagon and say, “Brother, I’ll take care of you. Big Sister will get the tree for Mother and Father. Just wait here, your effort was gallant.” Instead I hear her laughing like a maniacal loon on acid, as she points and laughs at me. I pick myself up and walk towards the tree. I grab it, I could almost feel the sad figure come to life as my fingers wrapped around its sticky, sap covered trunk. I could hear it whisper triumphantly, “Thank you kind sir. You have made a sad old tree very happy this day.” I drag its prickly ass towards the fence, and just as I lob the tree over the wire metal of imprisonment, that is when I hear it. The most vicious sounding, deep, guttural, straight from the depths of Hell growling I have ever heard in my life. I freeze in place, just as I was about to climb the fence, and realize that a guard dog is coming after me.
I dare not turn around in case I see a snarling, drooling, teeth bared muzzle of death lunging for my neck. I jump at the fence while yelling the whole time at my sister who has begun laughing again, “START THE FUCKING CAR!!!!!!” She jumped in place and ran for the drivers door, she jumped in and started the car. I am hanging over the fence, almost ready to jump down, when she puts the car into gear and starts rolling away in reverse. “WHAT THE CHRIST?!?!?!?!?!?” I yell as I slip, again, and get caught on the fence because my jeans have snagged on the top loops of the metal. I am now dangling above a patch of dry, hard, frozen blacktop, inches from my head. My sister, darling that she is, has started to turn the car in a circle so she can make a break for home. Make a break for safety and warmth, and leave me hanging on the fence. Just as I was starting to realize what she was going to do, my pants rip free and I land on my head on the hard, frozen, dry blacktop of the church parking lot. And Dana wonders why I have a dislike for religion……

I get on my feet and break into a full out run towards the car. Thankfully my sister had to stop so that she would not get hit by a car driving up the road past the parking lot. I grab the handle of the passenger door and rip it open. “DAMNIT!” I yell as I am getting into the car. Not realizing it is me my sister throws her hands up and screams like a fricking Banshee. I get in and wait for her to stop her screaming. Once she is done I look at her and say, “Ok, the coast is clear. You can drive now.”

“Did you put the tree in the trunk?”

I look at her blankly, unable to believe she just asked me this. I look at her for about three seconds and want to do nothing but slap her, once, across the face, as if to wake her up. Instead I look at her and ask, “Before or after I fell from the fence?”

We drive back to where we once were, just a few moments ago. We can see the tree, the mighty Warrior of Pine, laying on his side much like a beached whale. It was in the middle of the parking lot, surrounded by nothing but bleak, desolate, frozen blacktop. It was pathetic being shined on by one of the overhead parking lights. It was laying in its own spotlight, slowly dying on stage for the world to witness. The last remnant of the vast forest that was once standing, where blacktop and Church now stood.

We pull up to the tree and open the trunk with the button on the inside of the glove compartment (like I said, it had all of the fixings). I get out and pick the tree up, the thanks and praises that the tree was giving me was muffled as I slammed the trunk lid down on it . It didn’t close, so I just told her to drive carefully and it shouldn’t fall out.

We laughed all the way home as we thought about what we just did, and how much mom and dad would smile when they woke up and saw the tree al decorated and shiny with lights. The smiles faded once we got home. I stood there and waited for my sister to get out of the car and come see for herself, the fact that the tree liberated itself from our trunk as we drove down the road. My sister’s eloquent words said what we were feeling at that moment, “Well what the fuck?”

We walked up the sidewalk and looked down the little hill that ended in a flattop intersection at the end of our street. There, laying in the middle of the intersection, glowing orange from the street lights, was our tree. Our noble Pine Warrior, looking like a beached whale again. We walk towards it and realize, as we both fall on our ass and slide down the rest of the sidewalk, that Old Lady Simmons did not put salt on her sidewalk. Once we reach the body of the Great Alaskan Pine Warrior of Forestry, I grabbed the head, she grabbed the ass and we hiked it up the street, laughing the whole way. We finally, after falling countless times, get it home and bring it up the stairs and into the house.

We put it up and sit down to look at our accomplishment. As we are sitting there looking at our kill, our trophy, our game, we realize that we found the most God awful ugly son of a bitch of a tree that was ever created. I do believe that not one, not two, but five of the branches on the tree had ninety degree angles that pointed up and out, and down towards the floor. The top of the tree did not have any pine needles on it, it was as bald as my pate. The back of the tree had gaping holes big enough to put my head through, and the left side of the tree was missing from the middle of the trunk down. This was by far and away the most pathetic tree man has ever laid eyes on. Charlie Brown’s tree in the talent show would have pointed and laughed at this ugly monstrosity of a thing in the middle of our living room.

Before we could decorate the tree, my mother had woken up and looked out into the living room and just stood there. I grabbed my sister hand and pointed towards the hallway at mom. My sister held her breath waiting for my mother to say anything, she stood there and held her hands to her face and sobbed. My sister and I had tears fall down our face as we stood there and looked at our mother, the bastion of all strength in our family, sob openly. Once the tears passed and she could breathe again, she looked over at us and smiled and said, through tears that fell freely and non stop, “My God that is ugly.” She walked over to us and hugged us and kissed each one of us on our faces and said thank you. To this day, it was the best Christmas tree that our family ever had in our house. Even if it would have made Quasimodo cry in its ugliness, in that one brief moment of life, it was the most beautiful thing any of us have ever seen.

We went around to the back of the car to get the tree. It was not there