What Thanksgiving Means to Me by Way of an iPad, Scotch, Hashtags, Curiosity and the Eminent Zombie-afication of the Earth

Well here’s a first. I’m typing this on an iPad. ‘Whoda ‘thunk it? In all honesty, I didn’t buy this for me. Despite my seemingly ageless aversion to anything and everything Apple, I will concede at this juncture that while Apple may never gain a monopoly over the technological world, the iPad will, by the time Cara enters school, have replaced ‘ye ‘ole copybook. So rearing her on it at an early age is, in my opinion, crucial to preparing her for school. I still want her to learn how to handwrite and not merely type, because for all I know, the Zombie Apocalypse will happen sometime between now and September of 2014, erase all traces of anything technological from the face of the world and force her to do so. But if it doesn’t? Well, at least she’ll be technologically savvy. It could be worse. I could be allowing her to watch Spongebob Squarepants.

Maybe that’s the big secret that NASA is keeping from us: The Curiosity Rover found an ancient, petrified, zombie-afied finger in the dust that it was analyzing and the Jet Prepulsion Lab is trying to figure out how to break the news to us.

I can envision it now: “Guess what, Earth? We have determined that there was life on Mars once upon a time, but a Zombie outbreak coupled with the rapid deterioration of the planet’s atmosphere caused all life on the planet to disappear. Oh, and by the way, the same factors that contributed to the death of that planet are contributing to the death of ours, just more rapidly. Hope you enjoyed dinner and had pie. Have a Happy F*cking Thanksgiving, Sh*theads.”

I wonder how Curiosity could encapsulate that statement in to 140 characters and Tweet it? It’d probably have to paraphrase. Something like “@MarsCuriosity dear certified, bona fide Sh*theads: Mars went Biter and Earth’s going to too. Eat pie. Happy F*cking Thanksgiving. #Turkeycoma.” 140/140. Sweet. Can a machine swear? That’s a serious question, guys. I may need an answer to it if I ever publish ENDWORLD and start writing the sequel.

Incidentally, did you know I wrote a book? If you didn’t then you really must be new to Random Musings. The only thing I’ve blogged about more since I started writing these little ditties in 2008 is… Well, okay. Nothing. I’d say “myself” but it’s ‘kinda the same thing, isn’t it?

It’s still Thanksgiving. At least it will be for the next 39 minutes. Within five minutes of when I left my mom’s sans Nicole (she’s going Black Friday shopping with my sister, AKA she’s taking her life in to her own hands and I know where her living will is) both girls were in #turkeycomas and have been since (Natalie woke up just long enough to spit up on me, drink her bottle, smile, sh*t, spit up on me again and pass out). I’m firmly ensconsed in my own, yearly tradition of wearing sweatpants, drinking Macallan Single Malt and watching “Punkin Chunkin.” Somewhere between tumbler one and tumbler two I decided to start writing a blog entry on our new iPad.

My initial impression is the same as my initial impression of my first Android phone was: Typing on a virtual keyboard is incredibly awkward when compared to typing on an actual, physical one. ‘Course, that could also be the scotch. But I’m managing despite my unfamiliarity with it to muddle through. I can’t speak to the quality of what I’m writing… That’s up to you the reader… But I can say with the utmost certainty that… Well, I’m still composing. I don’t know for how much longer. That’ll all depend on when the Tryptophan starts to mingle with the Macallan and turns me in to a zombie. Hashtag turkey coma, #eveyrhtingtastesbetterwithsinglemaltscotch.

A quick, parenthetical aside: Does the brain trust at Discovery order Kari Byron to wear something skimpy for every show that she films? Everyone else at “Punkin Chunkin” is wearing a parka, a hat and gloves. Kari (God love her) is wearing a knit hat, a pea green skiing jacket and a pair of tight, tight jeans. Tight. Really tight. Knee-high brown leather boots, too. #Iheartredheads, especially intelligent and muscular ones. End aside.

I have relocated to my bedroom and am still writing despite the fact that it is now 12:04 AM, Thanksgiving Day Plus One, AKA Black Friday. I just talked to Nicole. She and my sister apparently decided to risk their lives a few hours early this year. They’ve already hit Walmart and Target and are now preparing to go to sleep until 4:30 AM when they will awaken from their own, respective #turkeycomas and rejoin the masses in pursuit of that once in a lifetime, Black Friday deal, again.

I never really “got” Black Friday. Perhaps that is because I worked it for every one of the 13 years I was enslaved by I MEAN AN EMPLOYEE OF CVSStress Pharmacy. I don’t have any funny retail stories about it. Not even from when I was working in good ‘ole Norristown, Pennsylvania. Generally, CVSStress opened around 6:00 AM on Friday and not 8:00 PM on Thanksgiving. Generally, the best deal offered was on the latest, generic knockoff. One year it was a DVD player for $50.00 back when DVD players were… Well, we’re worth more than they are today which, amazingly enough, is approximately $50.00 on the eve of the eminent Zombie Apocalypse and simultaneous deterioration of the Earth’s atmosphere (f*ck the Mayans. Here come the radioactive Walkers).

Since I left in 2005 and sought gainful employment elsewhere, I’ve stayed as far away from any retail-based proprietorship as I can on the “busiest shopping day of the year.” FYI, guys: That’s a misnomer. Take it from someone who… Well, worked 13 Black Fridays in a row. The last few days leading up to Christmas, specifically Christmas Eve are easily twice as, if not three times as busy as today. So for those of you out shopping pre-dawn that are reading this pseudo-drunken rambling on your iPhone, your Android or your Windows Phone while sitting in your cars, engulfed in a toxic haze of recycled heat, coffee and a #turkeycoma induced Methane deposit, or those of you that are waiting in line, shivering in the cold behind a couple of dozen other, crazy-eyed shoppers that want the free Super Mario Game for the Nintendo WiiU that Old Navy is offering to the first 100 customers starting at 4:00 AM… Breeeaaattthhheee… Do me a favor? Tell the doe-eyed cashier that rings you out to conserve his or her energy. After all, Black Friday is just one day. There are still 31 more shopping days left after it until Christmas. He or she will either thank you for your perspective or quit retail, never to return.

Either way trust me: It’s a #winwin. #BlackFriday, #youdorealizethatsomesinglemaltscotchwouldmakethecoldgoaway.

12:44 AM now. The grand finale of “Punkin Chunkin” is almost upon me. That’s good, ’cause I’m pretty tired, and my gut is telling me that the girls are both going to awaken from their respective #turkeycomas around the same time that Nicole and my sister are drinking their coffee and driving to… Wherever the hell their first shopping destination is this year. Scratch that: They already hit two so their third shopping destination. If they are reading this right now which, knowing my wife, she is I’d like to take this opportunity to tell them both that I love them and will be praying for their safety while Cara watches Dora in the dark on one side of me and Natalie drinks an early bottle on the other. And if that doesn’t happen? Good luck. I’ll be asleep and dreaming a dream of Kari Byron. Not to self: Relocate sheet and pillow to the couch in the Man Cave before Nicole gets home later due to one too many Kari Byron references. #FML.

I think I’m going to try to synchronize these last few paragraphs with the end of the show. I’d narrate what’s going on for you but really, guys? You probably watched it. I mean, it’s not just my tradition but everyone’s… Isn’t it? Hashtag silence, #thesoundofcricketschirping. In truth? I’ve missed most of it. The last time I really paid attention was earlier around the same time I wrote (still on the iPad, by the way) and revealed my inner longing for Kari Byron. Guys (only the males, and any females that are in to that kind of thing) I’m serious: Google her. I promise that you won’t be disappointed. See what I mean?

So what was the point of this blog entry? I honesty don’t know. The original title was “An iPad Test” but it has since morphed in to something more. Sadly, I can not say what that something is save for another semi-drunken rumination on a holiday by your buddy, the Madchronicler. I’ve covered everything from the Zombie Apocalypse to Black Friday. And did I somehow manage to show a correlation between the two?

I guess there are similarities. Consider that exhausted shoppers, just emerging from their #turkeycomas ‘kinda resemble zombies, and it is pretty cold out, tonight. Cold could equal climate change which could be a fore bearer of a forthcoming, catastrophic depletion of the Earth’s atmosphere. And then there is the fact that I’m writing this on an iPad which I did not purchase on Black Friday (I purchased it about a week ago), but I’ve always maintained that me, giving in to the Cult of Apple would be one of the signs of the apocalypse. Why not a zombie one? I guess in the end it all comes down to one, indisputable fact. And that fact?

Those of us with access to Macallan Single Malt should not be allowed anywhere near an iPad while drinking it. We should be content to simply allow our own respective, post-Thanksgiving dinner #turkeycomas to engulf us before our minds start racing. But then again, without imagination, The iPad, Macallan Single Malt, Curiosity, hash tags and the eminent, Zombie Apocalypse wouldn’t exist.

F*cking tradeoffs. 1:18 AM, guys. Sweet dreams.

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