I’ll be flying on Christmas Morning…I’ll be flying on Christmas Day.

I think you randomly get a lot of brain fluff today. I’m at loose ends. 


So I got Twit-spammed by some religious looney this weekend. The religious looney told me that the Mark of the Beast was upon us, and that I’d be ok if I followed the two commandments. 


First, the Mark of the Beast? Is that like the little 666 that was in Damien’s hair? I have to research this. My church wasn’t big on Revelations, growing up. 

This is very confusing, internet. There are a lot of Mark of the Beast websites (and seriously, can I get a Mark of the Beast t-shirt? OH MY GOD. I used to KNOW a guy named Mark. He should totally capitalize on this. Like, when he’s hitting on someone, say, “Hi! I’m Mark. You know, like “of the Beast.” That would weed out the religious crazies! MARK YOU CAN HAVE THAT ONE) and in one place it seems to think that the Mark of the Beast is the Euro? And in another it seems to think that the Mark of the Beast is the Damien 666 head-stamp? (Or also, one place said it might be a hand-stamp, which makes me think you could use it to get into over-21 clubs. BEAST clubs.) And ANOTHER place said it refers to a future where we’re all forced to attend religious services on Sundays. These things kind of don’t go together at all. I want a unified Beast-Mark theory or something. I don’t like loose ends. 

Also, two commandments? Which two? I don’t like that the spammer wasn’t specific. In looking over the list, and interpreting the commandments loosely, I think I broke five of the ten commandments THIS WEEKEND ALONE. This is worrisome. Did I break the two remaining commandments? Which two are they? Spammer, you are really leaving me hanging in the wind, here. Do I get to make the decision? FINE. I decide that the two remaining commandments are “Don’t murder” and “Don’t covet thy neighbor’s ass.” I don’t have any interest in murder because it seems like a lot of work, and my neighbor’s ass holds no interest for me whatsoever. SAFE! Safe from beast-marks! 


I’m usually totally Christmas-oriented. This year, I am the Grinch, mixed with Scrooge and Bill Murray from Scrooged and also probably the Heat Miser or something, although I never saw that special. It’s kind of perplexing. Is it something that happens when you get older? I bought some presents for people today, which I thought might make the holiday spirit kick in, but mostly it just was shopping. (They’re pretty kickass presents, though. I mean, you don’t have to be all toot-toot on board with Christmas to win at buying presents.) 

So I think I have to go on some sort of ramp-up-to-Christmas plan to get in the mood. Like, put up the tree! Put up the lights! Put up the hanging thing with frogs kissing that makes me laugh like a moron every year! (It probably wouldn’t surprise anyone to know I’m a total kitschy Christmas-decorations fan, right? I also love horrendous tree ornaments. I have one that’s made of rubber from a Happy Meal in the 80s and it’s Grimace and on the back it says “The Grimace.” Every year it makes me laugh so hard because of that “The” I can’t even tell you. THE Grimace? Why does he get a The? Is it because it’s The Hamburglar, and you thought everyone needed a The? THAT IS AWESOME. I also have some angels that are missing their heads – I don’t know why I find this entertaining, but I do – and a wooden soldier that my brother made when he was little that looks like it has a noose around its neck, which again, probably isn’t funny to anyone but me, but to me it’s just about the best.) 

Do some baking! That will totally help, because I win baking. I’m good at baking. I cuss a lot, though. And I make a huge mess. But the result is really kind of spectacular. 

Also, I think I have to start watching Christmas movies and specials early, to get in the mood. I have a regimen of Christmas specials and movies that I watch. It’s very precise. I’m totally the most serious about my Christmas specials. I might watch others, if I catch them on television – I’m not averse to watching Scrooged or the Charlie Brown Christmas special – but my PERSONAL Christmas watching is: The Grinch That Stole Christmas (at least twice); It’s a Wonderful Life (while wrapping gifts, and then again on Christmas Eve while everyone else in my family is at church); and A Wish for Wings that Work

What? What’s that? You’ve never HEARD of A Wish for Wings that Work? Shame on you. SHAME ON YOU I SAID. It’s only the best Christmas special EVER. 

You’ve heard of Opus and Bill, I assume. I mean, unless you’re a total heathen. Or maybe really old. Or really young. Berkeley Breathed – Bloom County? Outland? Opus? The cartoon strips in the paper? The books? No? Anyone? – had a character named Opus. Opus is a penguin. Opus is my favorite cartoon character of all time. Because I love penguins. And there was also a character named Bill the Cat, who is mentally deranged (at least in A Wish for Wings that Work.) 

Anyway, in 1991, Breathed wrote a children’s book about Opus and Bill called A Wish for Wings that Work. IT IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS STORY EVER WRITTEN. 

You really should read it yourself, because you’re missing out, but here’s a quick teaser: it’s about how Opus the penguin has one wish for Christmas – he wants Santa Claus to bring him real wings. That work. Not stubby little non-functioning penguin wings. Real ones. So he writes a letter to Santa, explaining why he needs them, and that Santa is his only hope. He faxes the letter, and goes to sleep, sure that his wish will come true.

I’m not saying another word, other than: something happens Christmas Eve to Opus after he faxes that letter that makes me cry so hard I get hives and blotchy-face and have trouble breathing correctly for a bit, and I’ve watched the special (and read the book) once a year, every year, 19 years (this will be the twentieth anniversary! Aw, happy anniversary, little Wish for Wings that Work!) 

Wikipedia tells me that Berkeley Breathed was not pleased with the way this special turned out. This really saddens me. I’m probably the only person who has watched this special as an annual tradition for twenty years. It’s really, really good, you guys. I mean, I love the Grinch and his Grinch-feet getting cold in the snow, and I love teacher saying that every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings, and I love Charlie Brown’s sad little tipping-over tree, but oh, do I adore Opus’s little sad, hopeful face watching the sky as the ducks fly by. And I’m pretty sure The Nephew might have enough attention span to listen to the whole book this year. I’m bringing it home, just in case. I’d like there to be two people in the world who make Opus an annual tradition. 

I’m feeling a little more Christmassy right now. I think that’s penguin-magic. Thank you, Opus. 


There is a box of envelopes sitting at the front desk and it says, in obnoxiously large letters, “ENVELOPES – STORE IN A COOL DRY PLACE” on it. So, you know, as you do, I said, “Just reading that makes me want to store that in a wet, hot place. Like a rainforest. I hate that it’s being so bossy.” Response: “That would make the envelopes stick closed, I think.”

Explaining how to illegally watch television shows online to another co-worker. “But it’s illegal.” “Yes, technically.” “But you’re not supposed to.” “No. I know. But everyone does it. Highly doubtful they’re going to lock you up for watching that episode of American Horror Story you missed.” “But I don’t want to do something illegal.” “OK, well, no one’s TELLING you that you HAVE to. I’m just saying it’s an OPTION.” “But it’s illegal.” “Yeah. Forget I mentioned it. Sorry. This never happened.” 

Fancy dressed-up coworker walked in, so I said, “You look nice today!” “I have a meeting today,” he said. “Oh! Hope it goes well. I bet they’ll just throw money at you, because you look like a fancy person. It’s the tie that does it, I think.” Dead stare. “I don’t think they’ll actually do that, Amy.” NO REALLY? I thought clients were always tossing around money. I’m just going to stop trying. I mean, it’s Monday, so I’m not really at the top of my hilarity, I get that, but also, YOU COULD GIVE ME SOMETHING TO WORK WITH HERE PEOPLE. 


So we were discussing that Meyers-Briggs Personality Test today (we discussed this before, remember?) and I took it again and apparently I’m still an INFJ, so that’s nice. It’s nice that I’m consistent. I like that. No one else that was taking it got the same result today, though, which is a little distressing, but they assure me we’re not mortal enemies or anything because that’s not how these things work. So that’s nice. ANYWAY, I read the description and it seems pretty right-on. I’ll take it. My favorite line from the analysis? “They are internally arranged in a complex way that only they can understand.” Ha! I totally have a scientific REASON to be all twisty, yo. IT IS SCIENCE. 

Alright. That’s all the lint you get from my brain’s dryer trap today. You have to clean that out between cycles. Otherwise you could totally get a dryer fire. You’re WELCOME.

About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

4 responses to “I’ll be flying on Christmas Morning…I’ll be flying on Christmas Day.

  • thepunchdrunkplaywright

    can you send us baked goods through the internet?


  • Omnibus

    Grimace , hitting on a girl in a bar : “I’m Grimace.” turns around to show his back “That’s right, THE Grimace!”


  • Andreas Heinakroon

    Actually, the number of the beast is 616, not 666. At least that’s what the oldest known manuscripts of the Revelation say. I don’t know how they managed to get it wrong in newer editions. It was even spelt out in full: “Six hundred and sixteen”.

    Anyway. I also like Opus although I haven’t read any for ages. Never seen that Christmas special though. We tend to watch A nightmare before Christmas instead; Jack Skellington is just the cutest!


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