For New Year’s Day, a couple of friends and I went to catch a flick called “The Spirit”, and if you ask me, the movie stinks. I LOVED the visual techniques in “Sin City”, but when it was used for “The Spirit”, it didn’t get the same effect. Because for one, “Sin City” already did it, and second, the visualization in “The Spirit” was messy and half-assed. The entire characters were one-dimensional and spoke in such a completely stylized and slick dialog that you couldn’t buy into it.

Speaking of slick, do you know who’s not slick?

Me.

After the film, we hung out at Pris’s yard, chit chattin’ and what not, and part of the discussion concerned epic karate moves. I was demonstrating to them the art of an authentic roundhouse kick, and my foot landed on doggy doo right after doing it. I was wearing my favorite shoes too.

Instead of getting praises for my roundhouse kick, I only heard laughter for stepping on doggy doo.

Yeah, good one Tiff. No one’s ever going to take your roundhouse kicks seriously anymore!

Stepping on dog shit, or any kind of shit, sucks, but when something like that happens, I usually try to find the bright side of things. In this case, I stepped on a firm, dried up ol’ piece of turd, which is, hands down, way better than stepping on a soaked and freshly shitted mountain mush with steam coming off of it.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

My older brother is truly the hardest person ever to shop for because he doesn’t like anything. I mean, really, this guy can be an asswipe.  He likes basically nothing and he’s brutally honest about it.  The best compliment he has ever used was “it’s alright”…but I’m not really sure.

I was having a lot of trouble figuring what I should get him for Christmas until I remembered that one of the extremely few things he actually likes are fishes and aquariums.  Yeah, what a nerd.  So yesterday, I went to a pet store and bought him a really cool fake rusty-antiquey looking anchor that I thought would look really awesome in his aquarium.

Last night, he had gotten home from his vacation in Big Bear and Vegas.  Him and his girlfriend eventually came into my room to give me the presents from them to open.  I ended up getting a book, perfume, and an air freshener.  I was excited about it.

After I had opened up my presents and had thank them muchly, I handed him the bag that contained his gift.

He opened the bag, took out his anchor and looked at it with a half-assed grin on his face.

“It’s something for your fish tank,” I smiled, also half-assed. “I thought an anchor would look really neat!”

“Aww, that’s really nice,” his girlfriend told me.

“I’m not going to use it,” replied my brother, the asswipe.

(five seconds of awkward and ever so humiliating silence)

“Well…I-uh-um…can I have it back then?” I gave out my hand, desperately trying not to look bothered. “I like it! I can use it for my bedroom. Yeah.”

He handed the failed Christmas present to me, and I walked away, in shame.

Frankly, I’m a little butt-hurt, but in a way, it was a good thing.  For if it wasn’t his cold and bleak honesty, the anchor would’ve been thrown right into the trash, never to be seen by humanity again. Instead, it is in my bedroom, safely displayed on top of my dresser for all to see:

But uh anyways…Merry Christmas and happy holidays everybody!