For Christmas what I really want is a claw-foot bathtub in front of a bay window overlooking the city.  I don't even care what city it is, use your fucking imagination.  I guess this tub should be in the same space as my bedroom and separate from the bathroom entirely.  I guess I just want to be able to walk from my bed to my bath while people watch me and I watch them and enjoy the fact that I am inside and they never will be. 

Since my Christmas wishes are absolutely so over the top I have asked for no gifts and am expressing this by explaining I plan to burn anything that is neither a super hot tub in front of a bay window or a speedy bag by Loius Vuitton.  Anyways, I bet that tub will last longer and look better on me than a stupid purse.  It's probably more money too.  Oh well.

As my Christmas gift to you I've tweaked the stupid template here so things are not so fucking uniform and I am not so fucking disgusted with the layout.  I guess you will have to put up with the fact that this is a huge deal and I am never going to give anymore than this so kiss my ass.  Also, I have chosen to pollute this stupid blog with adsense even though I am pretty sure I have a total of 15 readers so I'll be happy to get paid sometime in 2010.  Awesome.  Too bad I didn't decide to do something like this at the height of my old blogs popularity.  Oh well.  

Jesus, maybe oh well should become my blogs new mantra.  This is pathetic.  What I really want are tons of plastic swans distributed around my front yard that light up at night and I can pretend I am floating along from my house while I continue to board myself up on the second floor like I am mother-fucking Rapunzel.  Too bad I'll never let down my hair because I got too bored and chopped it all off.  This is the glass ceiling and now I'm capped.