Merry Christmas Refugees
part of the Merry Christmas Brigade  

.|September 26th, 2005|. Amk had another dream about me and Mr. Meloy. She was riding a ferris wheel when suddenly she heard the opening to the Infanta. She jumped out of the ride, rushed through the whole carnival, and came upon a stage where the Decemberists were playing. No audience existed, so she thought to herself, "Where are Maren and Jordan and them?!?!" She looked back stage, and there I was, holding a beer for Colin. Waiting ever so patiently. After the concert, we hoped into my car to go to a BBQ and guess who jumped in the trunk? Colin. That's who. .| September 18th, 2005 |. Once again, they don't even have to be my dreams, man! Jordan had a dream the other night that a guy in a bear suit was clawing at her door, and she was hitting at his hands. She let him in because he was her dad, and also Colin Meloy. This wasn't strange that he was in a bear suit. Anyway, Jordan had a sister and two brothers who were being very stupid, so she came to complain to her mother and father about this. I happened to be her mother, dressed as a fifties housewife. Alas, we couldn't help her (nor could we play monopoly with her) because me and Colin were too busy acting cute and couple-y and BAKING. I don't know what we were baking, but I bet it was hot. .| August 28th, 2005 |. Alright so even other people are having dreams about me and Colin Meloy. Here's the latest news: Amk had a dream that my ride (Anthony) was getting PIMPED. Sweet ass. They painted it a shiny gold, and it had seven useless tv sets with japanese dancers play on them. There was a mural of Colin painted in the back seat, and apparently my "special gift" from XZIBIT was in the trunk. They opened it, and it was Colin himself! For KEEPS! That is dope, mutha fucka. .| August 17th, 2005 |. Alright so we all know that I have some pretty sweet dreams, I mean, I told you about my Dave Navarro one, and that was a romp. I may have, however, exaggerated some details of that dream, but here is my chain of dreams from last night that are entirely unembellished: It began with me wandering about an Aquarium/Museum, and suddenly I ran into Conner from the hit series "Angel" on the WB. Conner seemed to be my friend, and also a test subject of the Aquarium. After much moral debate, I decided to reveal to him that he had actually been created from a frog. Yes, he was hatched as a frog and we mutated him into human form. He seemed to take this well. Then, my friends Jordan, Jon, Kyle, Megan, and Ian showed up. Forgetting about Conner, we decided to go collect some of our other friends, including Krieger, Madeline, Ryan, Whitney, and Matt. No one knows why such an extensive list of people were in my dream, but we wandered about neighborhoods until everyone was gathered and then we played dolls. But this was not enough! We decided to go to a Decemberists' concert. At the concert, I was talking to the group, and I yelled "I love you" at one of my friends, though I know not which one. Colin Meloy, lead singerist of the Decemberists was setting up his equipment at the time, standing on the other side of me, and he whirled around proclaiming "You do?!" And he hugged me tightly and kissed me on the forehead. Baffled, we decided to watch the show. While watching, however, I suddenly noticed that Colin was not singing, but rather sitting next to me. He gave me a ring such as those you get out of a vending machine (it was gold with a green gem) and asked me to marry him. I promptly accepted, and he went back to playing. I went around back stage, acquiring his set list (somehow important to me still) and a piece of cloth which had various names of people that were allowed to see him written on it. It also had a column explaining why they could see him, and next to my name was a picture of a ring. After he was done playing, he came over to me. I was all ecstatic and he seemed rather disinterested. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that nothing was, smiled his trademark smile, and kissed me to prove it. There the dream ended. Naturally, I woke up wondering where my ring was. .| April 8th, 2005 |. !eid ot yaw a fo lleh a tahw yrolg ,yrolg .no gnihcram si hturt sih ;drows tfiws elbirret sih fo gninethgil lufetaf eht desool sah eh .derots ro htarw fo separg eht erehw egatniv eht tuo gnilpmart si eh ,drol eht fo gnimoc eht fo yrolg eht nees evah seye enim .| March 19th, 2005 |. Today, I made a Nation. These are it's statistics: Name: The Dominion of Orphen Slaughtering Slogan: "Making A Heaven Out of Hell 365 Days A Year" UN Category: Scandinavian Liberal Paradise Civil Rights: Superb Economy: Fragile Political Freedoms: Below Average Location: the Pacific The Dominion of Orphen Slaughtering is a tiny, devout nation, renowned for its strong anti-business politics. Its compassionate population of 5 million enjoy extensive civil rights and enjoy a level of social equality free from the usual accompanying government corruption. The government -- a sprawling, bureaucracy-choked, socially-minded morass -- concentrates mainly on Religion & Spirituality, although Healthcare and Social Welfare are on the agenda. The average income tax rate is 41%, but much higher for the wealthy. Private enterprise is illegal, but for those in the know there is a slick and highly efficient black market in Furniture Restoration. Crime is relatively low. Orphen Slaughtering's national animal is the Albatross, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests, and its currency is the Skin of John Keats. .| March 17, 2005 |. My new theory is that all pantries are essentially on the brink of explosion. If not explosion themself, then in preparation for a massive explosion. Some families have been documented as having over twenty-five cans of tomato paste. Even the Italians wouldn't need that much canned tomato product! A crazy old woman seems to have some Canadian whiskey in her basement, along with five gallons of water so she can take a "bath". All I know is that I'm glad the survivors of a nuclear holocaust will have plenty of tomatos and whiskey to bathe in. .| January 27, 2005 |. I uncovered this letter in a time capsule yesterday: Dear 2005, If you have found this letter before 2005, surely you have come up with a complex nuclear weaponry system that would allow you to break our seal. If not, I assume not much has changed since our year of 1905. I went outside to look at the stars today, and I wondered to myself if stars would still exist in 2005. I assume that they do, but they might have sluttier skirts and no talent in your time. So, I succumbed to inventing some new type of railroad system. Do you have railroads, or have you developed rocket-powered chairs on tracks that can send you coast to coast in five minutes? Because you might as well not bother to ressurect me if you don't at least have those. Take care 2005, Henry Willchester .| December 29, 2004 |. Us nerds have to pick our battles well. We must know when and when not to back up computer files. We must know the latest internet trends and software management procedures. We must know how to delete websites off of our computer's history. Now, the average person (or even nerd) may consider such a necessity for pornographic sites, but true nerds know the better sites to hide. In fact, it may be necessary to hit up a few porn sites just so your history looks normal. It's the World of Warcraft sites we want to hide, the history of Dungeons on Dragons, the How to Speak Elvish sites of the universe. And then, you can put the guys from Jet on your desktop wallpaper, and your friends will never be the wiser. .| December 24, 2004 |. It has been a while. In fact, it has been nearly a year. The refugees have been starving and dying in the time we have spent apart. In fact, they have been looking so forward to rice that they fall over at the mention of the word. So, this Christmas, we have decided not to send care packages at all. If they're going to faint over words, they won't be able to handle the real thing. In fact, they might die from the sight of our gifts! Here's the real story. PageMaker no longer functions on my PRECISION PRESARIO. Not very precise now, is it? So, I have been neglegent to the MCB for oh, nine months now. I gave birth in that time, but nothing else is new. I figured, I'll bust out the old Microsoft FrontPage and reboot my site, even if it no longer follows shitty standards. Besides, TOMORROW IS CHRISTMAS. In fact, Christmas is only 20 minutes away. So how can I not? I wish you all a Merry Christmas you poor refugees! .| March 26, 2004 |. The most exciting thing to happen to me this week was today. Finding my goddamn argyle sock's mate. For the whole week, I've been busy out my ears doing entertaining things and the like. Let's see. Rocking Frisco, California and all of the good times there entailed, crazy teenage drama that goes solved but unresolved, street hockey, sleeping in till the afternoon. You know how it goes. BUT EVERYDAY, no matter WHAT was going on or had gone on, I would look in my sock drawer. You know, I wear socks as weird as that sounds. And there would be that pretty tan argyle sock, saying WEAR ME, but NOOOOO where is the other one? It was like a constant reminder of how much I suck. Well, today I found that other sock. I think I can be happy now. Smile. In other news: Roy is back! After his tryst with a tiger, his maliciously mauled experiance, he has announced that he's going back into the business with his fellow gay, magical, counterpart. I knew you had it in you, Roy. .| Feb. 15, 2004 |. Dear Abbey, Is it so very sad to be alone on Valentine's Day? I think not. First of all, who needs to celebrate commercialism and material affection? It's pretty ridiculous. Secondly, I've never had anyone on a Valentine's Day before so why should I start now? -Confused Card-Vendor Good question, Mr. Howard Dean. Or was I not supposed to reveal the author of that letter? Oh well, I can deal with lawsuits. I can deal with lawyers in suits as well. And their fancy flip-up cell phones. Thinking they're so cool in their fancy shiny shoes. Oh yeah? Well I have fancy shiny shoes! TAKE THAT. I have a flip up cell phone! Yeah, me and a gang of miscrients spent our Valentine's around a table with that very cell phone (because, it has pictures on it of course). So, by skipping through some of the photo album on it we had a variety of dates. It was pathetic and awesome. I really wish that I had that picture of George Harrison down there on it though. His Falsely Seductive ways would make for an excellent movie date. .| Jan. 25, 2004 |. Top Five British Bands 1. The Beatles 2. The Clash 3. The Who 4. The Rolling Stones 5. The Kinks In you face, Herman's Hermits. I would like to say a few words on the behalf of Chad and Jeremy, who did not make it to the list. First of all, Chad: your glasses rock, what is it with you getting old? Why did you let them go? They were your trademark. You were like one of the Proclaimers, dude. Why'd you let it go? Secondly, Jeremy: You have the cooler name, but the lesser style. Yeah I bet all the ladies went for you, but Chad had a better heart. Stop trying to be something you're not. And lastly, I would like to say that because I've already spoken about Dave Navaro here, I must report: he was in my dreams. He was my neighbor. We chilled. Even though he was still getting married to Miss Electra, we totally made out. Carmen, I'd rethink becoming Mrs. Navarro. We made a good couple. .| Jan. 9, 2004 |. I don't have influenza, and I don't have bronchitis. I don't have sickness but I feel sick. I have seasonal allergies but I don't know the meaning of outside anymore. It's a depressing thought to know that you can go sick from simply being angry with the world. I have had no chances to get sick, none; and yet, I am. I blame it on the fact that I've been locked in my house, and coming to the realization that even when I'm not snowed in, I still never get out. How lame is that. I'm going to be one hell of a crazy cat lady when I get old. Anyway, I could never make my top five albums list, because the truth is I haven't heard enough albums to even know. But Alex, our fellow MCB friend, did it and I think I'll do it anyway. No explanations. 1. The Clash - London Calling 2. The Beatles - Revolver 3. Simon & G-funk - Bridge Over Troubled Water 4. Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisted 5. Dire Straits - Brothers In Arms .| Jan. 6, 2004 |. SEX SEX SEX!!! Now that I've got your attention, I would like to talk to you about a various serious problem that rural communities are facing today. You may think that it is the Mountain Beaver. Fact is, they are very rare and never bother anyone. You may think that it is the common squirrel. Fact is, they are unstoppable and so you should probably just quite while you're ahead. You may think that it is the overwhelming housing developments erecting themselves in treasured forests and farming communities. Fact is, the human race is disgusting and that is a problem that no one can solve as long as we let massive corporations and greedy republicans run our country. You may think that it is republicans in general. Fact is, they can be decent people. While they are asleep. You may think that it is our quiant neigborhoods. Fact is, those are YOUR problem, not ours. You might think that it is.. wait, what am I even talking about? .| Jan. 1, 2004 |. I hope that all of you out in radio land noticed the addition of my "Satan" page. It takes some very in-depth looks into the world of the Damned. No joke. So you may wonder what songs have been stuck in my head today. Chances are, you don't wonder that at all. They have been "Crazy In Love" by Beyonce (no thanks to Jordan), "Hey Ya" (thanks to Adam), "Slow Down" by Howie Day (a random freak occurance to my brain), and currently "Michele" by the Beatles. Man, that song mystifies. I've been taking in a lot of Rubber Soul right now, since its the latest album to my collection of... albums. But if that theory were ever correct, I would have listened to all my albums by now. It is readily understood by Jordan that I have only listened to about 10 out of them all. She'll never forget it, I bore it into her skull. Oh, that was a pun. I hope you caught it. Here's another one: Michelle, ma belle, these are words that go together well. My Michelle. .| Dec. 30, 2003 |. Neiger la hauteur d'une main couvre le sol. Actuellement, les vents fortifient, donnant la poudre blanche dans l'air a un coup de pied. Il est soupconne qu'une autre main peut tomber cette nuit. Nous avons neige dans. Le shimmers de neige dans le clair de lune; particals de glace causant un etinceler a la terre. Ceci est une scene merveilleuse et belle, mais il devient un ennui pour habiter en cette maison a jamais. My native roots lie in the French. We are a snobbish sort of people, but we do not let it get to us. We like to stay out of the way, and then come in at the curtain call to feel more important. Oh yes, we are cunning acrobats as well as strategists. We know how to get what we want and have others do the work for us. Do we ever lose? Nay. Do we ever run out of wine? Nay. Are we a tourist's dream, yet once they reach our Maiden City they find it is trash? Nay. Wait, that one may be correct. Finally: I am not French. .| Dec. 29, 2003 |. It is uncertain whether or not that is in fact the correct date. Because, a band of shinobi warriors broke into my house, stole my left shoes and calendars, and made a break for it. I don't really know what to think about that, but I have to commend them for the cunning window drilling techniques. Not many people can chisel out circles that round. Either way, I made a deliberate point of not writing on Christmas Day. I had a lot of time, and I was on the computer rotting away like a banana peel (or slug), but it was deliberate so there. It was not canidate, and it surely wasn't Al Gore. He doesn't want anything to do with you. In recent reviews of the MCB, I would like to say that one of my favorite metro roads is Burnside. Why? Because it goes on forever and it houses some of the coolest places to go to. Including the Burside Bridge. What's up now? Down with Couch ST. They pronounce it wrong. .| Dec. 24, 2003 |. Who are you to say where my allegiances lie? How do you know if I am the root of all evil? Don't stare at me with those puppy dog eyes. I see where you sleep at night. Yeah, that's right. Filthy little cockroach. You have the whole bed to yourself and you don't even think about asking to share! Do I believe in love? That was an offhand remark if I've ever heard one! Oh, what's that? A challenge? You are going down like mayonnaise on a ham sandwich. What, you think you'll show me the meaning of love? I know the meaning of love! ANTHOY IS THE MEANING OF LOVE. Goddamn, you want to pick a fight with my Mercedes now? Bad mistake, mister. Oh now you want to show me the meaning of love IN my Mercedes? That just takes it to the last straw. I am mustering my army and you will never see a vengeance such as this. Freaking little midget dog. You like my dress? Oh, why thank you :). .| Dec. 16, 2003 |. Undoubtedly tragic news. You may be wondering why it is that there have been a severe lacking in public service announcements. Well, that's where the tragedy comes in. It seems that a fire began while your dear reporter was cooking pork chop sandwiches, and she has left this world. Actually, she's Jesus, so everything's a-okay! And by "she" I mean myself in third person! On to the real news, the stuff that the public really needs to here. Play nice children, and remember only YOU can prevent forest fires. So, Blue Oyster Cult. We were all waiting for those three words. In fact, we all ARE. Everyday as we whittle some good sticks and chew some good chaw, we are just anticipating when BOC is going to come up in the day. It's a fact of life. Here's another fact: BOC's two largest hits, (Don't Fear) The Reaper & Burnin' For You, were both sung by Mr. Buck Dharma. He was not their main singer, but rarther the guitarist. Peace out, chili dogs. .| Nov. 26, 2003 |. Good Lord, I wish the meat packing industry would get their act together. Smoked Salmon. You see it everywhere at fine dining times such as these around Thanksgiving and (let's give a holla) Christmas. I particularly don't like the strange concoction, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know it's safe. I have yet to find a single Smoked Salmon package that says WHAT TYPE of salmon it is. There are five types, did you not know? Not to mention Steelhead, which aren't a technical salmon, and are instead a disgrace and outcast among fish hierarchy. What if the Smoked Salmon YOU purchased was really Steelhead? Would you want that on your plate? Thank you for your applause, that pun was intended. All in all, I am disgusted and am going to send this formal complaint to Hillshire Farms or some other place that couldn't POSSIBLY raise salmon, but somehow produces it. See what I mean? It could be anything. .| Nov. 24, 2003 |. Dave Navaro can't help it if he looks like Satan. He was born that way, alright? .| Nov. 23, 2003 |. Cashews? What is the business of cashews? Straight forward and down on the wire they call them a nut, but honestly they look more like a crossbred potato with a banana. I am not sure what quite to think of these lima bean-shaped beasts. For one thing, they don't taste good. For another, they are an insult to the whole world of small foods that are much better. (See pistachios, pecans, walnuts, and sunflower seeds). What is the point of releasing a song if it only labels a one-hit wonder band? What is the point of being a band if you can only write one song that is worthy of listening to? What is the point of making a nut that isn't worth eating?!? Don't even get me started on peanuts. Damn legumes don't even know what they are. .| Nov. 22, 2003 |. No, we're too cheap for any freaking guitar. This is, therefore, not "with" guitar. Today, an overwhelming amount of syndication was displayed on the local telly. That is, in other words, the television. We are not yet certain what this may do to what sponsors call "seasons" of shows, and those that are actually out there trying to work for a living. The poor actors are trying to produce quality shows, and all the while these lunatics such as "Murder, She Wrote" are brandishing typewriters and taking over the systems. What will be done about this dark anomaly? Probably not much. Now shut up and go away. I'm trying to eat my fucking popcorn and watch some M*A*S*H.

"If refugees were the aquatic equivalent of a cheetah, then they would be a Penpoint Gunnel."