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Beddy-Bye, Here I Come

Ahhhhhh.

Sleep, glorious sleep, and it’s almost here. I can hardly wait.

Sure, I’m gonna have to work all damned (long) weekend, but not tonight. And more importantly, not at nine o’clock in the friggin’ morning, either. Or ten, or even eleven. Oh, sure, my wife will get me up by noon — it’s Thanksgiving, after all, and she’ll want me to watch Santa coming ’round the corner in the Macy’s parade.

(Which does me a big bunch of no good. I’ve never been a huge fan of parades, just on principle. I mean, it’s just a bunch of people walking down the street, often to crappy music. What’s there to celebrate about that?

I mean, sure, Macy’s version is a little better — blow-up dolls improve any occasion, of course — but still, it’s not worth getting up to see the beginning. Or the end, if I happen to be enjoying a nice lounge in bed. If you’ve seen one fat man dressed up in a red suit, you’ve seen them all, I say. Throw Denise Richards on the damned float in a furry red bikini, and maybe I’ll bother watching. Maybe. But a chubby guy? With a beard? Wavin’ to a bunch of snotty kids? Nah. I’m sleepin’. Piss off.)

Anyway, soon I’ll hit the sack, but I wanted to check in here first. My wife and I spent a few hours this evening installing some new home theater equipment (bought at a deep discount via her workplace). And I have to say this — it kicks shiny-cheeked ass! Five tiny little bitchin’ speakers, a DVD/CD console, a raunchy subwoofer… man, this stuff’s almost as good as sex.

(And loud, too. I’m pretty sure that if you sit in just the right spot in our living room and turn the stereo all the way up, you’ll have sex. Technically, at least, and whether you wanted to or not. It’ll just shake the juice out of you. It’s just that cool.)

But all that audioizing didn’t leave much time for blogging. And we’re not even done — for one thing, all the extra crap and cords and paperwork that we didn’t need are still piled on our couch. For another, the cords leading from the amp to the rear speakers are strewn all over the damned living room. And for yet another, the speakers aren’t quite hooked up the way they were before — with the old stereo, turning off the TV would also kill the sound. Now, not so. The picture goes black, but we continue to hear Homer Simpson, or Dan Patrick, or whoever the hell was talking when we got tired and clicked the thing off. We’re either gonna have to get used to a two-remote-control tango, or I’ll figure out what’s changed and fix it.

(Or, I’ll figure out what’s changed, work on it for a couple of weeks, tear out my hair in frustration… and we’ll get used to a two-remote-control tango, after all. See why I rarely bother in the first place?)

Anyway, I’m afraid I don’t have a lot for you here on Turkey Eve. Maybe I’ll back-date something better for you when I get up in the morning (or, as I think I’ve made abundantly clear, perhaps the early afternoon). Until then, wish me sleep. This is gonna be fun. G’night!