Awesome Day Aftermath

I am so freaking glad that the holidays are over. 

I’m glad that Christmas is over because now I can return to eating with guilt and shame as opposed to wild abandon. Guilt and shame eating at least keeps me from feeling like I’ve got lard coming out of my pores, and occasionally my normal diet allows me to poop, unlike a diet that is made up of foods that are high in fat and trigrosserides. Eating during the holidays gives me nothing but gas and constipation, even though I come by it most deliciously. I ate so much of my mother-in-law’s broccoli salad that I gave myself a wicked headache. I had to wait almost 20 minutes before I could resume stuffing my face full of mayo, raisins and sunflower seeds (with a little broccoli). It was a long 20 minutes. 

So this morning I threw out all the remaining cookies and candy and put all the naughty foods that we got as gifts up on a high shelf where only the nimblest of piggies will get them (me, with a stick).

For dinner we’re having shake and bake. I’ll mash cauliflower with Becel instead of potatoes with cream and cheese. And I’ll have a cup of tea for afters instead of an entire layer of Pot of Gold. 

I like getting back into our regularly scheduled program, as much as I enjoy the festivities and gluttony of the holidays. I thrive under routine, and as much as I lack them, I love boundaries.

I know many of you out there share my sentiments. In Canada, December 26th is known as Boxing Day. In my house it is known as “Get This Damned Tree Out Of My Living Room Day”.  Never before in Christmases past have I ever felt so strong a desire to flush Christmas away, both in terms of my digestive system and my decor . 

Once there are no presents under the tree, to me, the tree serves no purpose other than to remind you that once again, you did NOT get the Easy Bake Oven. There’s a scum on the tree water that you don’t know what the hell it is. It’s a drunken whore at last call, makeup smeared, dress akimbo, and no one paying attention. Even the cat is no longer interested. 

This year we experimented with getting a scotch pine. My family always had fir or spruce trees. We never, ever had a scotch pine, so I thought I’d see what all the fuss wasn’t about. 

Well, I can tell you, never again!

The scotch pine is the ouchiest of Christmas trees. It’s long needles are as sharp as... well,  long needles. And you can’t even brush up against the thing without feeling like you’ve been swatted with a hairbrush made of hypodermics. Decorating the thing was a nightmare. I got a rash all over my arms. Even it’s sap must be nasty.

And you can’t even decorate the thing properly. You don’t hang decorations from the scotch pine, so much as you lay decorations across it’s abnormally bushy and poisonous branches. So you end up with a tree that looks you basically stood 3 feet away and threw ornaments at it, hoping they’d just stick. This is what you have to do at any rate, just to keep from having your skin shredded by it’s stupid protective porcupine body.

I really hate the scotch pine and I’m glad it’s on the curb. Alone. Naked. Comeuppance is a bitch, isn’t it, Scotchie?

And the winner of the 100th blog contest is...

For those of you who can't view the video, like Brian who is using his iPad because he thinks he's better than everyone else, well the winner is.... Sheri Kidd. She wins the prizes!

The Twelve Days of Elpoo

My Complete Lack of Boundaries Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas

And all through her home

There wasn’t one dog

That’d leave Ellen alone

For they were all hyper

Could not hear enough

Of the big old fat geezer

Who’d bring them all stuff

Grace wanted treats

Sam wanted chews

Gracie craved meats

Sam craved nice shoes

Both claimed to Santa

They’d been good every day

Lied through their teeth

To get their own way

Sam didn’t tell Santa

Thought he’d never be clued-in

To all the furniture

And floors that he’d ruined

Gracie claimed innocence

Her beady eyes beaming

neglected to mention

her barking and screaming

So on Christmas Eve

With a snack and a twirl

And a sweet bedtime story

Of fat legless squirrels

Thus finally calmed

And tucked in each bed

Grace behind toilet

Sam in his shed.

Ellen was snoring

Brian was too

And all of a sudden

Ellen heard a to-do!

A clamour, a ruckous

This could not be good

The smashing of glass 

The cracking of wood

Ellen tore off the quilt

Brian bolted upright

Grabbed the baseball bat

Prepped for a fight

Scrambling down

Prepared for a feud

Ellen in bathrobe

Brian, of course, nude.

They ran to the living room

Only to see

A room quite destroyed

An upended tree

And up near the ceiling

The cause of the fray

Was 8 tiny mice pulling

The cat in a sleigh

Bouncing off walls

Ripping the chair

Scraping the paint

They flew through the air

When at last they alighted

On the back of the couch

Mice unhitched the sled

Out the cat slouched

Onto her blanket

Curled up in her fur

Ignored the destruction

She started to purr.

The mice all a scrambled

Their work here was done

They never thought vandalism

Could be so much fun.

So Brian and Ellen

Alone in the mess

Ellen to the broom

Brian to get dressed.

Slowly they put the

room back as it’d been

It took them 3 hours

To get that room clean

Collapsed on the sofa

They fell into a nap

But again they awoke

Because of the cat

A meowing ensued

Like they’d n’er heard before

She was panting and squatting

On the newly cleaned floor

After a minute

Of grunting and mewing

The couple could see

That her nethers were spewing

Out tiny gold eggs 

That grew once they were out

To the size of a fist

And the weight of a trout

Brian and Ellen 

Were totally freaked

But not as much as

When the cat started to speak

“Oh Mother and Father

I bring gifts of gold goods

As Christmas time thanks

For warm laps and for foods

I regret the mess 

That we had to make

T’was the only way we crew

Could get you two awake.

Invest the gold wisely

Don’t spend it on junk

Now don’t get all whiney

Don’t get in a funk.

There’s enough for a bike

For lovely Daddies

And enough for mommy to

Pop by Tiffany’s. 

That’s all I can say

No more in the offing

Just remember the dogs

Have given you nothing!”

As the kitten returned

to her slumbering snooze

Elpoo and Brian

Went straight for the booze

To plan their retirement

And to wonder at that

All of their worries

Were solved by the cat.

With a scotch and a Bailey’s

They cuddled up tight

Saying Merry Christmas to all

And to all a good night.

Foodie Friday - Merry Binge-mas

My “fat” jeans are tight.

And here is the reason

I’m eating my way

Through the holiday season.

I spent November baking

Cookies and candies

And now I’m upset

‘Cause I can’t fit my panties

Or bra, dress or leggings

They’re all burst at the seams

Due to the sugarplums

Not just in my dreams

I spill out of my clothes

As I swill out on cheeses

I blame it all on

This season of Jesus.

For wasn’t it said

In the Old Testament Tale

That to truly love God

One must eat like a whale?

So really I’m doing

My true Christian duty

By stuffing my face

And expanding my booty.

As much as I love

the sweet salty tastes

It spells a full year

Of elasticized waists

And a full month of guilt

A sad January

Of seeing myself

As fat, ugly and hairy

Is it all worth it,

To eat like a glutton?

It just gives me gas

And a bursting pants button.

I suppose it is,

or I wouldn’t persist

In gorging on sweets

On the following list:

Almonds and pralines

And a chocolate torte

Brittle of peanut

Breads ginger and short

Fudges with nuts

Fudges without

(I’m wondering why Brian

Now says that I’m “stout”)

I’ll have a hot toddy

That begs for another

With chocolates that’d make you

Forsake your own mother

Peppermint bark

Made in my home -  A

Box of the same

From Williams-Sonom - a

Chocolate haystacks

I begged from my friend Ryan

Peppermint patties

I’m hiding from Brian.

Wafers of sugar

Striped vinnetarte

Imperial Cookies

Cakes whole, and in part.

Coconut clusters 

Lemony pies

A deluded belief

That the scale tells me lies

Must not forget chips

And cheese by the block

Crackers and french bread

Tins o' Poppycock

Gran Marnier and brandy

Mulled wine and grog

Hot cocoa and Baileys

Spiced rum and egg nog

With all of this food

For the season’s duration

It’s no wonder we all

Give in to temptation

So don’t beat yourself up

If you’re a little more round

Except for damned Kathryn

Who “won’t gain a pound”.

I hope that you’ll join me

I know that you will

In feeding your sweet self

Until you feel ill.

To eat, it is human

To gorge, it’s divine

So ease up the rules

Just for Christmas time.

There’s a time for feasting

A time to toast plenty

A time for Weight Watchers

A time for Craig, Jenny

I’ll see all of you 

On January One

All of us shame faced

At the damage we’d done

To our bodies and health

O’er the holiday season

Our hearts all cry “Mutiny”

Our arteries “Treason”.

We’ll drag all our asses

To treads and to Spins

To work off all of our 

Holy Days Sins

And while we’re all sweating

And bemoaning each mile

We all can take comfort

We’ll all have a smile

For misery likes comp’ny

We’re all Pigs of a Feather

I’m happy to know

We’re all fat together.

Go ahead.

Have another cookie..

xo

Elpoo