Holiday Hangover

If you are anything like me, you are just happy that you survived the holiday season (mostly) unscathed.  Also, if you are like me, you are really enjoying the sloth-like existence you have been wallowing in for the last week, since you have been off work and have tried your damnedest to do the absolute minimum required of you, save keeping your children alive, of course.  What?  So, you are saying that it’s just me who is the lazy bastard?  Ok, sure.  Stick to that story.  At least I’m owning my coach potato existence.

So, in the spirit of extreme laziness, howzabout I just show you some pretty pictures?  A little trip through the crazy and awesome holiday presents that I received last week.  That will be fun, right?  I mean, technically, I’m still on vacation, so the bar for productivity is set super duper low, people.  Work with me here.

A little background . . . my hubs is a pretty big jokester.  He loves to give goofy and funny joke gifts to everyone.  Me included.  And this Christmas was no exception.

Please note, that according to this UniSpam, the rainbows come from the ass.  In case you ever wondered, now you should be clear!

This is actually completely awesome!  I used to collect these things when I was about 12, and apparently these are new and updated ones.  For example:  Sushi Seth, Situational Stan (aka The Situation), and Birdbrain Bruce (with Angry Birds).  Love it!

Because everyone needs a mouse with a little bling!

I had seen this before, but now I am the proud owner of some “Maybe You Touched Your Genitals” Hand Sanitizer.  Score!!

Pretty sure he’s calling me a witch.  Meh.  Guess it could have been worse.

Naughty Xmas tattoos.  Please note the eyeball with Santa hat, the skeleton reindeer, and of course the Bacon Santa.  Does this man know the way to my heart, or what?

A telephone handset for my iPhone.  Because, really . . . technology has just shrunken our telephonic devices to almost non-existent status.  What says hip, cool and retro more than carrying around a huge handset to plug into your iPhone?  I am über trendy, yo.

I have no idea how on earth the hubs got this picture of me walking around in San Francisco!!  I thought everyone was looking at the sights, and not my ample derriere.  Damn.

No hubs.  Not funny.  A sparkly Duke shirt?  That is just not ok.  Grrrrrrr.

And lest you think that all I got for Xmas were goofy joke gifts, the hubs did come through for me by getting me the one thing that I specifically asked for . . . a beautiful and perfect laptop.

He actually really does know the way straight to my heart.  He’s a good egg, that hubs of mine.  All in all, it was a good holiday.  And now I can blog from home, and not just at work, which is probably better for that whole job security thing.

Happy New Year, all!!  See everyone again in 2013.  Cheers!

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So, what did you get for Xmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus?  Anything fun or funny? 

Happy Christmaqwanzestivusukkah!!

So, like most people around these parts, I have contracted a bad case of VD the holidays.  It has been all holly jolly fa la la in and around my homestead as of late.  A few more days, and it will all be over.  And hopefully I can take a nap!  But until then . . . let me take you for a little stroll down the holiday hell lane I have been strolling along with my family and friends this last week.

We start our journey with the yearly tradition of cookie making.  Otherwise known as the day in which I have flour from head to toe and find some in crevices of my body in which baking ingredients should never be found.  Ahem.  Anyway . . . cookies.  I signed up to bring cookies to the office Christmas party this year (more on that to come), and my kids love baking cookies around the holidays, so last weekend was the official cookie making fandango. 

I ROLLED that dough. Rolled it! I am the freaking cookie queen!

Now, here’s the thing . . . I am one lazy SOB.  GASP!!  Yes, I know this is a huge surprise to you, I’m sure. But seriously, when I make cookies with my kids, it usually starts with those little pre-made packs you buy at the grocery store to which you just add eggs and voila!  Instant cookies.  Either that, or the most lazy of the laziness, the frozen already sectioned into little balls of dough, cookies.  Those are my favorites!  So very easy, and no floury powdery stuff to have to mop up.  But this year . . . oh ho this year . . . I decided to get all Martha Stewart on those cookie asses and whipped up not one, but two batches of different homemade motherfucking cookies.  Using ingredients and shit.  What the hell is wrong with me?

And while the shapes of trees and bears and hearts and stars are all well and good, I was a bit sad that I didn’t have these to make the most epic cookies EVER:

NINJABREAD MEN!!  How awesome would that have been?  Alas, I will have to settle for boring old holiday themed cookie shapes for this year’s cookie extravaganza.  Sigh.  Well, there’s always next year, I guess. 

Next stop on our holiday train ride (yes, it’s a train now, hush!) . . . classic holiday shows.  We’ve already been over my love for A Christmas Story, which I haven’t actually seen yet this year because, duh, TBS Christmas Day marathon!  But every day my kids have watched a different movie, so it’s been a perpetual loop of holiday classics on the TV at all times!  Rudolph, Frosty, ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (that’s the one with the mice and the clock, love it!), Santa Claus is Coming to Town and, of course, the plethora of “holiday themed” Disney Jr. shows that we have had to watch as well.  And while that is all well and good . . . mommy prefers a little bit different Christmas fare. 

I haven’t had the chance to watch Elf yet, but I actually purchased it this year and will get to it this weekend (I hope).  It’s been years since I’ve seen it, and I think I’m due.  Then, of course, there was the SNL Christmas special that was on last week.  Two hours chock full of classic and recent holiday skits from that (sometimes) hysterical show.  Which brings us to my personal favorite SNL skit of all time . . . Dick in a Box!  When it came on TV, I actually rewound it and watched it 3 more times, then ran downstairs and played it for the hubs.  Not that we both haven’t seen it a million times before, because seriously, Dick in a Box.  But it was so worth a refresher.  I crack the fuck up every single time I see it.  Every.  Single.  Time.  If you have never seen it, please do yourself a favor and watch this NOW (maybe not at work if your boss is kind of a dick . . . in or out of a box).  You can thank me later.  You will not be disappointed.  Unless you hate to laugh.  Cuz then, well, yeah.

Click on picture to watch video.

Now that you have had your daily fix of hilarity, let’s move on along to today’s festivities, and the reason I had to make all those damn cookies . . . my office holiday party.

Oh, the office holiday party.  If you recall my previous posts, where I bitched and moaned about being forced to be the office party planner, and how I renounced that title after last year’s trifecta of parties, you can imagine how much I was looking forward to this upcoming event.  Thankfully, one of my close friends in the office took the reigns (knowing finally that I was serious when I said I was retired), and has run with it.  I have helped a little, but mainly have stayed out of it.  Of course, her being a damn elf and all, people have run to her to give her money and sign up for items to bring, not in any way necessitating any follow-up on her part.  Unlike my previous multiple personal and memo specific requests, which were summarily ignored.  But oh no, not her.  One memo and people are lining up to do what they were asked to do.  Sigh.  Not really sure what that says about my previous career in party planning, but we’ll just leave it at me being happy I don’t have to do it anymore.  And what else am I happy about?  Booze.  Yep, the holiday party includes copious amounts of alcohol, both to drink at the party, and usually as the items exchanged in the White Elephant gift exchange.  So at least I have that to look forward to!  Pretty sure I won’t be getting much work done after noon today.  Suck it employers!!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

I mean . . . and a Festive Winter Solstice to you and yours!!

Wait . . . damn.  Um, Happy Hanukkah?  Er, maybe it’s Joyous Qwanza?  Festivus for the rest of us?

Yeah, whatever it is you celebrate (or don’t) around these parts, I hope you have a Merry Happy Joyous good one.

At least it’s not coal . . .

It’s a Major Award!!

The first time I saw A Christmas Story, I was 8 years old.  And I hated it. Well, I didn’t really hate it. But, unfortunately, I was a very impressionable and meek young girl who was eager to please. Obviously, this was before I became a teenager.

Christmas of 1983 was spent in Arizona, visiting with my grandparents.  One day, during this holiday season in the desert, my grandparents decided to take me to see this new Christmas movie that had just come out in theaters.  So there I was, sitting in a dark theater, about the same age as the main character I was watching on the big screen, and first experiencing the gloriousness that was A Christmas Story.  Obviously, I didn’t understand a lot of the more adult humor, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

However, when the movie was over, my grandparents asked me what I thought about it.  And feeling very nervous and on the spot, I told them I didn’t really know.  It was then that they told me how much they hated it and how they thought it was incredibly stupid and horrible.  They railed on it.  Continuously.  So, wanting to be a good agreeable little girl, I heartily agreed with them.  And thus my opinion of the movie was cemented . . . until many years later.  I don’t remember the next time I saw the movie.  Maybe high school, possibly college, or even later in life.  But I remember realizing how brilliant and hysterical the movie was.  Since then, I have seen the movie dozens, if not hundreds, of times.  And my love has only increased with each watching of this epic tale.

And this is why I am incredibly excited to give away this epic and fun Christmas Story prize!  Even though it took me a while to realize its brilliance, it has become one of my most beloved holiday movies.  And I am happy to share these treats with some lucky winner.

As I foretold, my son 7 would be picking a name out of a hat to choose the winner this time, thus releasing me from all blame and guilt for the decision.  Yep, that’s how I roll.  I place all blame squarely on the heads of my kiddos.  I am a super duper mom, yo.

And while the picking of a name is not based on the quality of the stories, I want to say that those stories were fantastic.  Some painful, some hilarious, all wonderful.  Thank you for sharing your crazy holiday stories with me.  I enjoyed them all!!

So, without further ado, the winner, as picked by my son 7, is:

WINOPANTS!!!

Congrats to you, my girl.  Your story was full of awesome, and you were the lucky name picked by my son!  Hooray for you.  Now, you just need to send me your address, so I can get these fab prizes off to you, and hopefully even get them to you by the big fa ra ra ra ra day.  Send to:  mistyslaws at gmail dot com.

Getting into the Spirit

As I have previously mentioned, even though I am married to an elf, and am surrounded by multiple elfin children, at my core, I am one of the most bah humbugiest people you will ever meet.  However, I do like Christmas.  I know that seems contradictory, but it’s true.  The time leading up to Christmas is super stressful and insanely busy, and I would love to just skip the whole tree decorating debacle I seem to experience every freaking year (did I mention the lights went out again FOUR TIMES? Yep, fun), but Christmas itself is basically enjoyable.  Family and friends celebrating with food and drink (lots and lots of drink) and just hanging out and generally enjoying each other’s company?  Oh, and did I mention a full week off of work?  Yep, good times, sign me up.

My husband has a large family.  He is the youngest of 5, and all of his siblings not only have kids, but some have grandkids.  That’s right, I’m a great-aunt, y’all.  And one of my nephews is actually a year older than me.  ‘Tis true.  So each holiday is a huge event, with a house full of his raucous and insane family (please refer back to our summer vacation shenanigans for a small sampling of said insanity).  And each sibling (save one, who has abstained) is tasked with hosting a holiday at their home, thus splitting up the duties throughout the family.  Our holiday is Christmas Eve.  And I know what you’re saying, it’s not an actual holiday.  But the tradition in his family, for years before I even arrived on the scene, was for everyone to go to church and then go over someone’s house for dinner and drinks before going home for the next morning’s prep.  We inherited it when we started dating and bought a house, since it was previously the other sibling’s, but she opted out of hosting it anymore.

Since we have to be the hosts with the mosts on Xmas Eve, the house has to be all decorated, we have to have food and lots and lots of drinks (did I mention his family is Irish?  Yeah), and get into a holly jolly festivus spirit.  Which is plenty easy for my hubs, but takes a bit more work for me.  How do I do it?  Well, I’m glad you asked.  Mostly booze . . . just kidding.  Sort of.  A little.  Well . . . ahem.  Anyway . . .

One of the main ways that I can try to force myself to start feeling a bit more festive is by listening to Christmas music.  But not just any ole Christmas music.  It will not do to just start listening to those radio stations that play nothing but Holiday music from the day after Thanksgiving up until New Years.  That just grates on my nerves, to be honest.  No, it has to be my Xmas music.

Years ago . . . back when people used to make mix CDs on their computers (remember that?  God, I’m old), I made a few compilation disks to play in the car around the holidays.  One was an all instrumental disk (a lot of Kenny G), one was full of classics, like Bing Crosby and Brenda Lee, there was a Country Xmas disk, one had a bunch of more recent Springsteen and U2 type popular Xmas tunes, and then there was Mod Xmas.  This disk was full of more obscure and really really recent Xmas songs that I felt had a certain vibe to them.  And this disk is the first one I listen to to get me in the Christmas mood. 

The first song on it is called Everything’s Gonna Be Cool This Christmas.  For some reason it just fills me with a sense of calm and peace.  And puts me in the Xmas spirit.  It is an obscure song that most people have probably never heard of and believe me, it was super hard to even find to put on the disk.  When I got it, the artist was just listed as “E.”  Years later, I discovered that he is actually the lead singer of the Eels, and there is also a non acoustic version of this song out there that was used on The OC soundtrack.  So you might have heard a version of this song afterall.  However, my heart belongs to this acoustic version that was my first experience of the song.  I don’t actually care for the electric upbeat version.

Click picture to hear the song.

Oh, and the second song on the disk?  Pearl Jam’s Let Me Sleep (It’s Christmas Time).  Yeah, that pretty much sums up how I feel after everyone invades my home on Xmas Eve!! 

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What is the one thing that finally gets you in the spirit of the holidays?  Is it booze?  Can I have some?

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And don’t forget to enter my most recent contest . . . for all sorts of fun Holiday prizes!!  Also, if you want a holiday card from me, email me your address at mistySlaws at gmail dot com.  My kids will pick a name for the prizes this weekend, and I will be sending out cards for a couple more days, so get on it people!!  Cheers!

Holiday Hoopla

‘Tis the season, ho ho ho, and all that crap.

Even though I just did a giveaway, I am leaping on the back of that Ninja Mug post, to do a special holiday giveaway.  I want to make sure I can pick a name (or more accurately, my sons can) and get the prize to the winner before Xmas.  I’m all festive like that and shit.

Anyway, this prize is actually a multitude of Xmas items that I thought might be coveted by all y’all.  Here they are:

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As you can plainly see, this prize is full of win.  The mini martini set is from Williams Sonoma, the Christmas Story stuff consists of a Leg Lamp stress ball, 2 pens that display different messages when you click them, and a note pad.  And the magnet is just made of pure awesome, obviously.  (I may even throw in a few other items, as I keep buying fun stuff during my holiday shopping craze, and I can’t not give stuff away.  It’s a sickness, really).

So, any takers?  Anyone?  Here’s your mission, should you accept . . . tell me a story.  A Christmas Story, if you will.  (See what I did there?).  Tell me a story about something that happened to you during the holidays (Christmas and/or Hanukkah) that was truly wacky, crazy, ridiculous or cringe-worthy.  Did your Aunt Clara send you a big pink bunny suit?  Did your friend stick his tongue to a frozen metal pole?  Did the neighborhood dogs eat up your Christmas day feast?  Did you shoot your eye out?

Do not fear if the commenter ahead of you has provided a more creative or crazy story than yours.  I have once again relinquished control (and all of that pressure!) of picking the winner, to my young elves.  I will enlist their picking talents this weekend (why does that sound so wrong?), so get to commenting!  Share away . . . and may the odds be evah in your favor!

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On to other holiday related news . . . if you are a long time reader of this here blog, you might remember last year around this time I asked for people to send me their addresses.  No, not for stalking purposes.  Pfft, like I have time for that!  No no no.  I wanted addresses so I could send out Christmas cards!  Although I am a self proclaimed Scrooge, the one thing I actually love to do is send cards to people.  I do this all year round for birthdays, thank yous, or just because.  If you know me at all, and I consider you a friend, you have probably received a card from me at some point.  So, when the holidays roll around, I hunker down with a pile of cards, stamps, return labels and addresses and just send send send all that holiday cheer!  (In fact, I am so damn good, that I’ve already sent my international peeps their cards.  Be jealous).

So with that in mind . . . if you would like to receive some of my holiday cheer (sorry, the post office frowns on sending bottles of booze in Xmas cards) by way of a Xmas card (or just a holiday card for my Jewish friends), please email me at:  mistySlaws@gmail.com (that S in the middle is important, so don’t forget it).  I will send you out a lovely holiday greeting.

I need your addresses in the next week so that I can get them out to everyone.  And if I sent you a card last year (or have sent you anything in the last year since) just assume I have your address and leave me a comment below that you would like a card (or not, you are probably gonna get one anyway).  :p  However, if you have moved in the last year, please send me your new address.  I’m looking at you Dani, Mandi, Carrie, Noa, etc.  You know who you are.  You can’t hide from me!!

Buddy the Elf: Redux

I was going to do another giveaway post today, but have decided to save it until Monday.

Instead, I’ve decided to do an anniversary post of sorts.  I realized that one year ago today, I posted what I consider my most silly and fun post.  I had a lot of fun crafting it, and it received pretty high praise as to its comedic stylings.  So, I figured I would cheat phone it in repost it below for those of you who might be new here, or those who have read it and might enjoy a little trip through memoryville (I don’t want those “memory lane” assholes suing me for copyright infringement . . . again!).

Fair warning though . . . it is very naughty.  I don’t usually do blue comedy, but this falls squarely in that category, so if you are looking for family friendly . . . move along, cuz this ain’t it. 

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I would like to introduce everyone to a new addition to my family:

Hi there.

This is Buddy.  He is an Elf on the Shelf.  If you are unaware of this phenomenon because you don’t have kids or just have not succumbed to the charms associated with this tradition, let me explain.  The elf on the shelf is an elf that sits in your home, watching the kids to make sure they are being good.  Every night he flies home to Santa to tell him the score of the day.  Then on Christmas Eve, Santa picks him up and he goes back to the North Pole until the holidays roll around the next year.

Every family has to name their elf, and my kids picked the name Buddy.  Actually, it was originally Santa’s Little Buddy, but we shortened it.  Either that, or he was going to be named The Grinch (per my 3 year old), but that was vetoed because it didn’t quite have that holiday spirit.

Because he flies back to Santa every night, in the morning, he is always in a different spot in our house.  Sometimes on the fireplace mantel, sometimes on the drapes, on a lamp, a picture frame . . . you get the idea.  Basically, Buddy has free reign to come and go as he pleases and reposition himself wherever he feels comfortable.

The children have delighted every morning in trying to find where Buddy ended up the prior evening, and gleefully announce his whereabouts once he is spotted.  Basically, Buddy has been a welcome addition to our (mostly) holiday loving family.

But, I have recently discovered that Buddy may not be what he appears.  Apparently, there is a dark side to Buddy.  He is not content to just sit on a shelf and wait for the kids to discover him with glee each morning.  Oh no.  He is a very naughty little elf.  Apparently, he has been having a bit of fun in the dark hours of the night while everyone else is asleep.

The way I discovered his bad boy side was when one morning, as I was leaving for work, I took a look at my phone.  I noticed that there were some abnormalities from when I left it to charge the night before.  First, it was no longer charging.  Someone had unplugged it and left it almost drained of the battery.  Second, when I turned it on, it did not go to the main page.  No, it did not.  It instead opened onto some pretty disturbing images.  It seems that my phone had been used during the night to document some shenanigans occurring between Buddy and a host of other characters that in years past have been content to also sit on mantels and shelves to decorate the house during the holidays.  But apparently, not this night.  I can only assume that Buddy was the bad influence on our holiday friends.  And I have proof of the wild times that occurred between Buddy and these normally sedate and classical holiday characters.

Brace yourself.  These pictures are quite graphic and I wouldn’t want to ruin your childhood memories of all these beloved icons forever.  You might not want to look any further . . .

Ok, then . . . I warned you.  Here they are:

Playing Reindeer Games

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Guess he CAN catch him.

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Look away, Cornelius. Look away.

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He likes it RUFF.

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One happy dentist.

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Oh, Gingy!

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Not you too, Sam!

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Santa Claus is coming . . .

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Manage-a-Elf

Well, I’m sorry you had to be subjected to those vile and obscene photos, but I felt it was my obligation to show the world the dangers of having an elf in your home.  Apparently, my elf is a complete nympho, and I fear yours might be as well.  Keep an eye on those elves, and you may want to hide all your other holiday decorations.  For the safety of all reindeer, please . . . be vigilant!

Convos with the Kiddos: Part Seven

My son, 4, got a stuffed bird.

Me:  What’s your bird’s name?

4:  Mr. Pecker.

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My husband to 4:  Wow, you’ve been a really good boy today.  I haven’t had to yell at you at all!  Why is that?

4:  Because if you yell, you’d get a headache.

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4:  There are rules to climb a slippery mountain.  1.  Be brave (in case you slip down or hit your head), 2. Be smart (to think of good ideas), 3. Be strong (to dig holes).

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4:  Who are bad guys that can be in this world?

Me:  Who?

4:  Frankenstein!!  Oh wait, he’s not bad, just scary.  Um . . . Bowser.  Vampires.  The mean car in Lightning McQueen 2 . . . he’s yellow and about this high (holds hand down at his knees) and fights Doc Hudson.  I think his name is Canyon Shooter.

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Watching The Voice . . . Blake Shelton was doing a performance with his team:

4:  Oh!  He has helpers.

Me:  Yes, exactly.  Singing helpers.

4:  Like Captain Hook’s helpers . . . Sharky, Bones and Smee!

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Watching the Thanksgiving Day parade, and seeing the Kermit the Frog float:

4:  Ugh, not the Puppets!  They are so annoying!!

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4:  Frosty might be a girl or boy.  Might be a girl because of the flower in her hat.  And girls like flowers.

Talking about the Au Pair and 4:

7:  She kept telling him consecutively:  get dressed, get dressed, get dressed.

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Talking about his brother:

7:  He was crying and I couldn’t tell what he said because I don’t speak cry language.

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At Pizza Hut:

7:  Those children over there are not sitting appropriately.  That one even has his tongue out!

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7:  I smell (sniff sniff) wine.  I know what that smells like.

Me:  Why, because mommy drinks it all the time? (That’s why he was smelling it at that moment, actually).

7:  Nope.  Because I like that smell.

Uh-oh.

BONUS!!  Convo with the Hubs:

Hubs talking about my age . . .

H:  You’re like a 40-year-old woman on a 2 year runway.

Me:  . . . . . . .

H:  That’s right, I said it.

I guess I should say that he’s my former husband.  I will be sure to keep everyone posted on the viewing and funeral schedule.

The First Rule of Ninja Club . . .

Shhhh, we can’t talk about it!*

* (Credit to Heather for this reference).

 

First of all, I want to thank everyone who contributed to this contest.  I am overwhelmed by the ingenuity and sheer awesomeness of the submissions that all of you made for the Ninja Mug contest.  Well done all!  Of course, it made it extremely difficult for me to try to pick just one of these amazing and creative stories to crown as the ultimate winning Ninja.

(Where is a 4 or 7 year old boy and a hat when you need them??)

Nonetheless, I was forced to put on my big girl pants and choose just one of the entries as the ultimate winner of the contest.

(But seriously, you guys, it was soooooo harrrdddddd.) 

 

Sigh.  However, as all Ninjas must, I was forced to perform the unspeakable and difficult task set out before me.  Because like the Highlander, there could be only one . . .

Before I pick, though (sorry), I want to give a shout out to some very honorable mentions that came this close to taking the prize, because, seriously, there were so many incredible ones to choose from:

Christi‘s story of her stealthy trek, full of pitfalls and traps, through the home of her youth, ensuring she be the first to reach the coveted remote, thus ensuring her Saturday morning cartoon domination.

Valerie‘s tragic tale of a stealthy and highly skilled Ninja, facing the bleakest of all incidents . . . being seen.

Amy, and her remembrance of that fateful day in Dallas, where alas, she was not able to stop an epic tragedy from occurring, despite her best Ninja efforts.

Brett‘s childhood story of being born a Ninja, into a non-Ninja world, and adapting and thriving in his environment, while waiting, always waiting . . .

And last but not least . . . Renee.  Oh, Renee.  You almost had me.  How can you possibly be this good?  Renee’s tale was one of a young Ninja who was trained in the ways of stealth and killing at a young age and has grown to watch over those around her.  Luckily, I am one of the chosen ones who she deems “safe.”  I surely hope that not winning this contest doesn’t change that status, as I fear for the consequences of turning such a skilled warrior against me.

(If you have not had the chance to read all of the submissions, please do so.  They are truly epic).

And now I will present to you the winner’s submission in its entirety below.  When I read this story, my heart was immediately filled with both glee and sadness.  The glee was for the absolute brilliance in the story telling and subject matter within.  The sadness was in the fact that this scenario could never actually occur.  Oh well, c’est la vie.

The winning Ninja is:

JACLYN

The year is 1993. It’s a warm night in June in a little town in Ontario, Canada. She doesn’t know what she’s about to unleash on the world. But I do. And I will stop it. I will cease it from ever existing.

She’s only 17 and, as I suspected, beer will play a role in her decision-making process tonight. Step one: Get rid of the booze. It’s early in the night, so I start at the source: the fake ID.

I slip into the room of the man who is 50% responsible for the tragedy I’m trying to prevent. He is in the shower, so I know I’ve got a little bit of time. He’s only a couple of years older than she is, and he’s trying to impress her, so he has a whole bathroom routine mapped out. Shower. Shave off the stray hairs on his face that he considers a mustache. Douse himself in Axe Body Spray. Grease up his freshly cleaned hair with an excessive amount of gel, so it looks like he hasn’t showered at all. Time. I definitely have time.

I make my way to the pocket of his jeans where he keeps his wallet. I find his real ID, a couple of McDonalds Monopoly game pieces and the $8 he assuredly set aside for beer. Fuck. Of course he wouldn’t leave his fake ID in his wallet. He still lives with his parents and he certainly doesn’t want THEM to find it.

I sneak around his room looking in a few places I think he may have it hidden. I find a shoebox under his bed filled with Playboys. I’m sure I’ll find it here. God, the things a ninja has to do. I start shaking the magazines out one by one and halfway through the stack, it falls out. I have his fake ID. I slip out of the room unnoticed, one step closer to my goal.

The scariest part for me is the idea that I have to prevent this outright. If I only manage to delay it, well, I’ve seen better time-travel ninjas than me think they stopped this creature from existing, but they didn’t. They only delayed the inevitable. They only slightly modified the beast. In some instances, it was for the worse.

Back to my plan. Part two is sabotage. Outside the boy’s house, I break into his car- an ’83 Camry given to him by his parents. It’s disgusting. For a moment I think maybe I won’t have to sabotage him at all… I mean, who would have sex in this car? And then I remember that obviously she would, and so I start my plant. I open the glove compartment and fill it with the stuff I brought. Anal lube. Vibrators. Smut. I fill it with all the things that I think would repulse a 17 year old girl. I even throw a dead mouse in there for good measure. It’s honestly not even that much more disgusting than it was before I got there. But it’s the best I can do. I have to stick to the code. We can’t interact with them. I can’t tell them about the beast. And so I have to hope this is enough.

Finally, I need a reason for her to open that glove compartment and so I smear the dashboard, steering wheel, and seat with ink. I have to hope that it will be enough, that she will notice before it’s too late, that she will open it up to look for a napkin and she will find my plant and she will be so repulsed that she never sees the boy again. More than hope. I have to pray for it. Our world, our lives, our sanity… they all depend on it.

I step out of the car and sigh. I’ve done all I can do now and I have to go home. I take out my time-jump and set it for the year 2012. I close my eyes as I press the transport button and hope to return to my time and find I’ve succeeded. I hope for a better world. A world where the beast never existed. I hope for a world without Justin Bieber.

Congratulations, Jaclyn!!  Send me your address at mistyslaws@gmail.com, so I can send you your much deserved Ninja prize.  Even if your goal ultimately failed. The Beast just won artist of the YEAR at the AMA’s, and my son was singing “If I was your boyfriend” over and over and over again on Saturday morning. Oh Jaclyn….why oh why could you not have succeeded?  

Thanks again to everyone who contributed.  Peace out, my ninja brethren.  I have a meeting to go to.  Um, I mean, a dentist’s appointment.  Yeah, that’s right.  Just a regular old cleaning.  Yep.  Nothing to see here.  Move along.