Holiday Shoppin' All Done
Hey everybody! I'm comin' at you like a Christmas Carol on fire! Santa's numbers are in, the reindeer are all gassed up, and the friends are ticked off! On the old shopping list, that is. Here is what I got everybody:
1. Philippe. Never forget a kid and his magical sense of hope in the world. Kids give a lot of credit to the world and expect beauty, which is a pretty rad position that our DNA takes, and we all got to help that feeling as long as we can and hope some of it stays alive til adulthood. For Philippe, I picked up a VERY smooshy-cooshy pair of UGG moccasins! Shearling for my dearling, yo. Also, a beanbag chair the size of a hot tub.
2. Pat. I got him one of those heavy bases that dispenses Scotch tape. It was cheap at Dollar Tree. He never called me for my birthday. No, tape was not included.
3. Téodor. I bought T one hundred pounds of meat. 80/20 beef, chicken thighs, chicken breast, veal, lamb chops, ALL the news you can use. Waiting in his garage is a stand-up freezer with a red bow on it, plugged in and hungry. Osso Buco me, T!
4. Nice Pete. It's always hard to shop for a ...he is a good guy. He has done me right at many turns. I bought him a really nice hickory-shaft hammer from Restoration. I thought he might like the craftsmanship or something. I thought he would owning such a fine, honest gentleman's tool. I hope he likes it. He is a good guy. He has honor. Peter H. Cropes is a fantastic individual.
5. Little Nephew. He's been kind of distant lately, kind of wrapped up in his own extracurriculars, but I know the dude always appreciates some thick white tube socks and a Taco Bell gift card. I maxed up $250 on that thing so he can have some memorable trips through with his boys and dates. It was a while ago but Beef and I once spent $40 on a trip through the Bell, and it will always be a laughin' matter with me (especially the part where Beef made me hospitalize him for a stomach pumping after he freaked out about all the sodium searin' his urethra and veins or whatever). I also taped my cell # to the gift card so neff can text me a thanks if he gets around to it, or ever needs my help in a fix.
6. Molly. Molly is the bomb. When she ain't book scratchin' for her MBA or shinin' brass tacks, she is patient as hell with my Beefy-boy. I think some day he will actually be a better full man, and it will mainly owe to her horse-breakin. Anyhow, I know she's been wantin' to learn oil paints, and that stuff is goddamn impossible to figure out on your own ("fat over lean?" Each stroke takes a month to dry? What what?) so I got her a year of weeklies with Cardamonio Angelo-Lautenburg Mantiquetti, this bomb-ass oil painter who does lots of Pebble Beach and Scotland-type stuff. He's hit Seven Pines a few times with me and Mayor C., real nice guy.
7. Emeril and Spongebath. Got them a combined salt and pepper grinder at Marshall's, where the salt and pepper are in the same chamber and come out together. I figure guys like that probably like salt the same amount as they like pepper.
8. Cornelius. What do you get for the guy who has done everything? Keith Richards. I bought Keith Richards for Connie. I'm completely serious. To make things way easier on everybody, neither guy has to see each other, but as part of the deal Keith is obliged to chat on the phone with Connie at least once a week, for twenty minutes, and he can't act like a dick. I know Connie actually has some questions regarding blues key modulation and foreign organ transplant logistics, so this could be fun for him. And Keith gets a huge tax break as a "Brexited consulting foreign export," or whatever it is that my boy at the State Department called it, which encourages Keith not to mess with the "no-dick" part of my contract.
9. Lyle. I got Lyle a carton of Reds, a handle of Jim Beam, and an Old Spaghetti Factory gift certificate that he can use for dinner with some of his buddies. I have been real down on Old Spaghetti Factory ever since their waiter treated me poor on a date a couple years back, and kind of wanted to send them a little somethin' in return.
10. Chris. Chris is always into nerd-assed books about biographies or autobiographies. I just wrote him out a piece of paper that said TOM PETTY - HOPE HE PRODUCES ONE and taped it to his car. That is his present. Frankly, I ain't too into Chris these days. Always coming and going. Mostly going. Never includes a player. Talks big on old business guys with money who crave his ideas. Always wearing that quilted puffer vest with the sheepskin collar. Guy's buffing a move and shading an OG. Screw that man. NO GIFT.
Obvious as all hell is Beef not bein' on this list. I always do him and Molly up with some fragrance dinner out and new shoes and trip to Taos, but this year was different. He played at real balance with that Golden Tabloid, and I liked what I saw. So I got the squabble a week in Kauai, Princeville edition. Room staff cued to leave GT on the nightstand, fresh screens and clean glass each night.
Alright, everybody! I smell my prime rib cracklin' in the oven, and it's time to sazzle up them Yorkshire puddings. I got a tight little group of the gang over for gift distro tonight, so I can't be late! Love to you all, wide open.
One hundred, One Thousand, One Million Times,