wrapping it up.

it's time to start slicing with the scissors,
and adhering with the magic-style scotch tape.
yup.
the preparations are still underway,
as is the purchasing,
but it's high time to get busy bundling up the boxes.
hmm?
oh, hell yeah!
you already know i got my metallic foil printed wrapping paper
with all those crisp edges and sharp corners, kids.
rules is rules.
my tissue paper is coordinated;
my secret scented tea light treats are ready to infuse the fabrics
inside of the packages with all of the XI-mas aromas;
and now,
all that i'm missing to take this presentation from a perfect ten
up to an eleven are all the bows and ribbons that really make it look good.
***********
what's the first thing you put in a stocking?
the dopest present, the big banger, the encore track, the grand finale freshness.
huh?
yeah, obviously.
the toe-present is the last thing you pull out,
and it determines the success of the first course of present opening,
so it kinda HAS to be the most expert.
anyway,
after the toe-kicker goes in,
then you get to packing up the whole middle with chocolates
and candies and F*ing lip balm or whatever...
but then, for that last third?
you gotta blast it off with all the wrapped up little rad bits of holiday hottness.
that's right.
the mutha-ucka' has to look all picture-postcard perfect,
so your present-opening-time snappieshots make alllllll the moms jealous.
i mean,
c'mon, neighbors-
if you aren't winning at holidays,
what the heck are you celebrating for?
and seriously,
all the 'good' moms out there hate it so hard when my old-and-busted
bearded-weirdie spindly loudmouthed self,
all long limbs and awkward angles,
totally dominates their faces right off in the theater of christmas cheer.
word up.
gift-giving is a key element of lightning-striking viking virtue-
gratitude and generosity are both strong attributes of proper presentation.
i say this same sh!t every year,
but only because it's still the truth, and it bears repeating.
*
i'll admit it isn't what it used to be, though.
don't get me wrong,
my dear darling daughters,
the sterling starlings who make my heart sing,
or whatever the F*,
are still getting the new hottness in the old tradition.
shystie piles of presents can't come to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress, after all.
it's the part where i go bananarama apesh!t cuckoo-crazy all-out extravagant
for an appreciative and actively participating partner that i'm missing.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, MAN!
these days,
i have neither the means to go as mental as i previously have,
nor is there a real-life real-time real talk recipient for that focus...
which is arguably listing my laments in the opposite order.
i still have a basket of sweetheart-specific stuff, for sure.
i mean,
i don't wait until the last minute like an irresponsible and/or indifferent dummy.
they're wrapped, too, (without ribbons)
in the preferred pattern of my ersatz partner,
awaiting the right moment to be given away as an early,
and incomplete, christmas gesture,
or maybe as a bittersweet parcel of parting gifts?
everything gets harder,
even when practice has made it perfect.
what.
the.
actual.
mother.
F*.
real life documentarianism means telling the truth,
and the truth is a real piece of sh!t.
it's all really happening, anyway.
so, yeah, umm,
happy hanukkah, b!tches;
never quiet, never soft.....