my life

The holidays irritate some people. I get overtaken annually by an effusive sense of pollyanna love for everything and a passing capacity to surrender to the delusion that the world is snowy and pretty and witty and free. In other words, I am the raccoon. And life is that there kibble pellet being offered by the doughy hand of God. "Yes," I exclaim in Raccoonese, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes to it all! Now pass the damn turkey and gravy and open your presents already!"



(That picture is from icanhascheezburger.com, by the way, my latest in an endless array of time-destroying diversions.)