Happy Fucking Holidays

Greetings friends and family.

So here we are.  It's Christmas again.  I hope this year's holiday season has brought you and yours ever closer to finding true love, wealth, and happiness.  To be completely honest, 2002 didn't turn out to be the year I had hoped it would.  For a while there I thought this just might the year my proverbial sleigh finally made it to town.  Thought maybe I'd be able to look back on 2002 and happily sing Feliz Navidad without faking it.  I gotta quit getting my hopes up. 

Mom, Dad, Colleen and Nick are all full of Christmas yule - suppose I'm happy about that. They do however seem so distant this -- and I now wonder if they even know me or feel my pain.

January: I brought in 2002 in typical fashion. I remember only waking up on a futon New Year's day in a 69 w/ Mark Layman in the basement of an East Baltimore row house. A few days later, I got a letter from the FBI telling me that I had failed the Special Agent written test and to try again next year. I guess cheating on every test I had ever taken at Virginia Tech didn't help me in that one. Headed to Seven Springs near Pittsburgh for a weekend of skiing. Met a big-haired, hay baling, chain-smoking bint at the lodge in an Aerosmith shirt who took a shine to me.  I presumed from the musty hairspray-sewage-Kool Filter Kings scent she carried on her person she lived in a nearby mobile home. She told me that she wanted to make me her "boy-toy". Upon viewing her wedding ring, I declined her offer. She proceeded to thank me with a roundhouse right to my temple. I'll be looking for that bulldyke next February, and this time she won't get a pardon because she appears to be female.

February: Well, I made the big move to Arlington. Moved in w/ Layman, Bob, and Tony. That was about it. February is worthless like tits on a bull.  Or a bint looking for conversation at the Crush in Adams Morgan.

March: Headed to Miami for a week w/ some of the boys. Jared charted a fishing boat w/ a man named Mark "the shark". Mark the Shark robbed us of our money and our time by taking us about 100 feet off shore where we caught him bait fish for a later tour he was giving for some privileged Augusta National white males.  Sucks being mistaken for a Mexican all the time.. But fear not, I called the Better Business Bureau to report that cocksucker. We also left him a little treat in his fridge. Eat shit, fucker.

April: How 'bout this for a twist in the action to start the spring: I got myself a girlfriend...Justin and Kelly hooked me up w/ Samantha. I also got hit in the face w/ a 15 lbs, 30 inch drill bit that had fallen off the roof of a house. It hurt like fuck and I would have gotten stitches, had I had health insurance. I guess that's the life of a gambler. Opened a ROTH IRA w/ Drowos, and to date, I have lost over 25% of it. My 401(K) is nearly gone.

May: I reunited with Byers to comb the streets of Washington DC in search of the elusive female.  In the midst of my budding romance I had almost forgotten how good it is to be single in this city.  Byers worked his Wheelchair/Alien/Shopping Cart charm while I showed the ladies my belly trick.  Decided though that I would be FAITHFUL in the face of temptation and went home with only a burrito.  Followed through by setting Byers up with the young vixen Christy.  Decided to set him up with   .......

June: Had a party that the Arlington Cops shut down in an hour. We weren't even loud, its just that my Left-leaning, pillow-biting neighbor tossed and turned in his feather bed at our "noise". That's ok, thanks to Chris Winn, the hood on his Jag became inverted. Winn's always good to fuck someone good. Also headed to Ohio State for Colleen's graduation. Tried to give her roommates the "Arabian Goggles," to no avail. Speaking of my siblings, Nick's best friend growing up was sentenced to Virginia's death row for capital murder. We are so proud. July: Spent a lot of weekends in Dewey this month, which is fun, except that Colleen quit her job bartending at Bottle and Cork which meant that my 5 year run of free drinking in Dewey ended. Fitting. At the end of the month, Pick had all the mules over to his place in Dewey for the weekend. Christian and Kill brought home two 40 year olds that took a natural and immediate dislike to me. So, when we were all sitting in the back of her SUV, I gave the interior of her car a terrific golden shower.

August: Did some more traveling here: took the girlfriend to Cumberland, Md for her birthday, ( yes, I said Cumberland) then headed to Hoboken, NJ with Layman and Frevert to go to Deegan's party. The party was laden with the most beautiful women you can imagine. Layman and I spent the better part of the evening wrestling each other and mooning party guests. I am sure we'll be invited back soon. Got talked into buying a $266k house. I am sure the housing market bubble will burst by the time I close next July.

September: sucked October I spent the majority of hoping that the DC sniper would just take me out. No luck there--so, I head to Dallas to see Cade. I spent most of the night trying to give Rangers' LF Juan Gonzalez's girlfriend the Rusty Trombone, to no avail. I also celebrated my 25th at a bar in Georgetown. Rohan's buddy punches me in the face for no reason while I am getting a beer. By the time I realized what had happened, I was being dragged out by the bouncers and bartenders. Fear not, I just got that motherfuckers address so get ready to read about me in Jet Magazine

November: This was a lovely set of 30 days. Virginia Tech football lost every game this month, which meant I lost my ass as well. My girlfriend broke up with me for her coworker she had been dating for a month. And how the fuck can I forget about Thanksgiving? Food Poisioning! You believe that shit? I got a bad fucking turkey. I guess the only solace I found during this month was watching the Democratic Party collapse on election night.

December: I returned to South Beach for the Miami-VT game. I didn't give two flying fucks on a rolling donut about the game. I was there to view the mammaries.  The coconut complexions that Will Smith rapped about.  Think that God could give us just 2 days of warm sunny weather? Fuck no, he didn't. It pissed on us the whole time. Got back home, broke 3 ribs, yet still play tackle football every Sunday. Luckily I am a man of modest dreams and don't need much to be happy. I'll just keep on dreaming. If a man don't have a dream, then he don't have much. Happy Fucking Holidays. --Terry Gallagher