On the 55th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: 55 yesterday’s Halloween candies 54 lights a twinkling 53 carols tinkling 52 cards a mailing 51 commercials 50 texting drivers 49 pumpkin lattes 48 cookies baking Now begins Diwali Prosperity and triumph Of goodness over evil It gives props to marriage And the bond of siblings 42 boycotting Christians Duped by profiteers And manufactured outrage 39 days until Christmas Which suddenly lasts two months Why not 'til Valentine’s Day? Buy more gems and candy Ecumenicism! Ching ching ching ca-ching Register bells are ringing 300,000 Veterans are homeless Now it’s Thanksgiving Boycott Black Friday If you’re for “family values” Shopping isn’t worship It’s still November Now it’s December It's not Christmastime yet That's the 25th Through Epiphany That's not persecution Hanukkah starts the 6th A minor festival Of spiritual over material More commercialized than Yom Kippur The holiest day in Judaism But that's in September Jews don’t proselytize For which they deserve credit Not a pseudo-Christmas 11 Tweeters Tweeting 10 horns a beeping 9 crazies ranting 8 brands a bilking 7 brawls a brimming 6 speakers playing 5 useless things 4 galling words 3 French fries 2 Starbucks cups And a pointless controversy. Happy Holidays and Season's Greetings, which traditionally were festive expressions that referred to the upcoming New Year, and which are effective ways to respect many cultural attempts at getting through wintry weather, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. Peace on Earth and Goodwill to All. Now let's get back to Fall. (with apologies to Meghan Trainor) Because you know I’m all about that mess ‘Bout that mess, Hey rebels! I’m all ‘bout that mess, ‘bout that mess, Hey rebels! I’m all ‘bout that mess, ‘bout that mess, Hey rebels! I’m all ‘bout that mess, ‘bout that mess Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no Martha Stew- Art, don’t want to decorate it like I’m “supposed to” do ‘Cause I got a junk room, out of storage space All the right junk in all the wrong places I got the magazines, I’m like my own thrift shop And every inch of it is cluttered From the bottom to the top Yeah, my momma she told me they don’t give a housework prize She says, don’t worry ‘bout it more than if we were guys You know I won’t be no domestic pre-feminist hausfrau, So, if that’s what you’re into then go ahead and get out now I’m bringing duty back Go ahead and tell them neat freak bitches Hey No, I’m just playing I know you think you’re slobs, But these aren’t women’s jobs, Everybody delegate them from the basement to the shop Yeah, my momma she told me don’t tolerate lazy guys She says, don’t date men who are little boys in disguise You know I won’t be no scullery, trying to do it all So, if that’s what you’re into then hang up and please don’t call |
AuthorI've been working with chronic disorganization, squalor, and hoarding for over 20 years. I'm also a marathon runner who was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and thyroid disease 17 years ago. This website uses marketing and tracking technologies. Opting out of this will opt you out of all cookies, except for those needed to run the website. Note that some products may not work as well without tracking cookies. Opt Out of CookiesArchives
January 2022
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