Christmas is almost here and I'm happy to announce my shopping is finally finished.  Most of my shopping took place online.  Ah, the Internet.  What a wonderful invention.  I don't have to put on clothes to buy things, which makes the porn I view after I'm done that much more convenient.  I did have to trek out into the wild for a few things, but I managed to survive with only a few minor concussions.

It wouldn't be the holidays without those wonderful TV ads trying to entice you to buy their expensive junk that I can't even afford for myself to give to someone else.  It seems lately the jewelry store ads have found the perfect formula to persuade buyers: making men feel as if they are less of a man if they do not buy their women expensive and useless diamond jewelry.  My favorite so far is the one where the couple is looking for Christmas trees:

Man: "Honey, I found the perfect tree."

Woman: "What makes this tree the perfect one?"

Man:  "Because it's as sappy as this commercial."

Let me ask you something.  Who are these people that are buying other people cars as Christmas gifts?  And why don't I know any of these people?  I'd like a new car for Christmas, please.  I need to find one of these people and find a way to use my charm and swagger to make them fall in love with me and want to lavish expensive luxury sedans onto me.  I've always hated cock-teasing car commercials anyway.  They dangle this piece of meat in front of you and say, "Hey, wouldn't you like to have one of these with all these options that we'll never offer you because you don't have that kind of credit?" 

One last thing about these commercials that has fondled my brain as of late is the hinting.  Why is everyone in commercials always hinting what they want for Christmas?  I never had to hint and no one has ever had to hint me.  You just ask, "What do you want for Christmas?" and then you answer, "I don't know."   

I'm always the first to admit it: I'm a procrastinating, apathetic, sit-on-my-ass bum most of the time.  I do, however, usually have spurts where I'm motivated to manage a few tasks, like write a song or an essay for a blog or finish a goddamned recording.  Lately, though, I haven't had the gumption to do a damned thing, and I think I figured out a good excuse for it.

I am an allergy sufferer, like many Americans (I assume foreigners don't have this problem).  And like many allergy sufferers I have to take medicine to relieve my allergy symptoms.  My allergies are so bad, especially during this time of the year, I have to be constantly medicated in order to function normally.  The problem is that one of the side effects of this medication is severe laziness.  Sure, I'm not sneezing like a dog in a pepper factory.  I don't have the urge to gouge my eyes out due to extreme itchiness.  But I also have absolutely no urge to do a goddamned thing.  I know I have goals I need to accomplish, but I just don't care.  I can't overcome the urge to sit on my ass and stare at the ceiling. 

All right, maybe it's not really that bad.  The medicine doesn't turn me into some sort of virtual paraplegic.  I am capable of doing the things I have no choice about, like go to work and such.  But when it comes to doing things I'd like to take care of, I turn into a do-it-tomorrow guy, more than usual. 

So here I am now, writing an essay and trying to overcome the desire to sit on my ass.  I'm hoping this will sufficiently explain to my many readers (laugh) as to why I haven't done any writing lately.  I think I got this fire lit under me because when I started I had just taken the first medication of the day and the side effect of laziness had not yet taken effect.  Now I'm almost done and the medication has fully kicked in.  It may take all my willpower to get dressed.