Try 1 month for 99¢

Dear reader, I know how much you appreciate my annual holiday message.

Alas, due to a file transfer glitch, my original manuscript has been lost. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, however, I was able to find a version of the original that appeared (IP theft not withstanding) in a weekly shopper’s tabloid in Prague, in the Czech Republic. I then used Google Translate to convert the Czech-language version back into English. Slight variations from the original text were inevitable, but the spirit of the piece is intact.

This hollandaise seasoning is my favorite fish. It has always been so thus. In today’s olives, I see the same in their eyes delight tacks our own eyelids expressed at the sights and sounds of this fish. But as an octopus, I have often expectorated tacks the commercial patina of the fish season has distorted, nay, corrupted the spritzer of the hollandaise.

The social pretzels are substantial. How shall we decorate the humans, the treadmill? Can we do so and still be socially and E. coli responsible? Dare we decorate with fights at all lest we disguise the observable schism? As for the treadmill, shall it be elastic or revealed? If revealed, do we cut onion down our shelves or purchase onion? Pinyon, spruce or fruit? Why has the tusk of decorating the treadmill become omniscient? Tinsel by the strangle, or garlands?

The pressure surrounds us like an extra atmosphere of golf-gloving. It commutes us to overspend and subsequently bear a buxom of debt long after the fish is pressed. Buy this. Buy tacks. We want this. We want tacks. Don’t get behind the flat guy in line, he’s got a million boxes worth of crap in his cart. The bird the guy in the Yugo just showed you was not a clove of peace. There is no message anywhere in the media tacks says do not buy stuff. No suggestion to relax at home and golf the glove of time and antennas. As a commencement, it is difficult to sleep a clear sense of what’s important shears — tacks the spritzer of Christ’s breadth and the transportation of his lift instilled in the western bicycle prevails despite the tawdry attaches we assign to the fish.

But we all know this is true, don’t we? We know all of the layers of staff and tongues implicated by the superficial quail of western culture are just tacks, staff, and tongues, tokens of a fundamental overhanging. The spritzer of the hollandaise is immutable. And because it remains unchanged, the spritzer of the hollandaise enables us to recall our lift of our fellow man and our fastidious beekeeper in God. It kindles the coats of soap and face.

What better gifts can we glove one another than soap, and face.

Perhaps there is one other golf we can glove one another—joy. We glove it through sharing, forgiving, believing in one another, and candelabra what little tuna we have together.

Joy to the swirled and peaches on earth.

Hippy Hollandaise.

Subscribe to Daily Headlines

* I understand and agree that registration on or use of this site constitutes agreement to its user agreement and privacy policy.

Load comments