Wednesday, December 21, 2011



first, click on a seemingly normal christmas card to mercifully end the series


oh dave, don't be hard on alvin, don't be so hard on the little scamp, all alvin wants is his motherfucking hula hoop. i mean, what kind of heartless father, or, well, caretaker anyway, if you don't factor in the furry sex, lets his rodent son go through life without the sensation of swinging his hips back and forth in a circular motion? it is everyone's god-given right, EVERYONE'S, to experience the sensation of thrusting your middle-trunk no-no place danger zone back and forth and up and down and swirling, it's an unalienable right...even for aliens.

maybe that was it. maybe that was what went wrong with me. like alvin wanting his hula hoop and later his golden harmonica in that christmas tv special with the ill little boy, did you watch that special show on monday? what was wrong with the little boy anyway? they never said. fever, cough, Plague? maybe if i had gotten my "hula hoop" when i was a kid, which for me was a certain gun that was gonna shoot my eye out, maybe then i would have carried on happily and not needed the services of a blog. i would venture out into the world blissfully unaware of having to type about this exploit of mine and that exploit of mine, gun in hand. okay, i never really wanted a toy gun, i hate guns to be honest, i'm more of a video-game light zapper gun NRA man. what i really wanted for christmas, *here come the tears*, get ready for some major cheese, some the-REAL-meaning-of-christmas hokey declarations from yours truly: what i really wanted for christmas all those years ago was for my family to stay together, me and my three brothers: simon, the smart one; theodore, the fat-yet-happy one who always raped my cookie collections; and of course Dear Leader Alvin, may he rest in peace, his body wrapped in red silks with a giant yellow A stamped on the silks. i still can't believe it's been six years now. that damn wood-chipper...yeah, we tore apart that wood-chipper after the incident like there was no tomorrow, that thing is beyond destroyed now, but you can't erase what happened, what's done is done.

i am a chipmunk, i am a chipmunk who uses his tiny hands and feet to type a blog, a blog which has followers...

what? jesus who?

MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Jack and Jill said...

And what a series it was!

Thanks for the link. We never get tired of hearing Alvin cajole Santa into getting him a hula hoop.

And the comments that follow are the greatest stream-of-consciousness rant that has ever been composed on a blog.

Merry Christmas!

KaziG said...

Merry Christmas to you!
Very funny, my Tuesday post featured a chipmunk song... of sorts... LOL
And tomorrow I have a Stocking Stuffer
Today I'm just being my usual wanton self
So baby let those bells ring out!!


~Kazi xxx

Cheeky Minx said...

The holy trinity on your chest is the only trio I need - as well as your writing, which I agree with Jack and Jill is pure stream of consciousness gold. In fact, you could give William Burroughs a run for his junk.

And as for the hip swinging, you can play with my hoop any time, babe. ;-)

Merry Christmas... x

the late phoenix said...

jack: pretty good for a chipmunk brain, huh?

kazi: i'm telling ya, great minds stream-of-consciousness blog think alike

cheeky: i once ran with william burroughs's junk, long and painful story

viemoira said...

My cat named "Darth Kitty" eats chipmunks.