I kind of cleaned house this Christmas, extremely thankful I’m well-liked enough to plunder so many wonderful presents, knowing that countless people aren’t as fortunate, and some aren’t lucky enough to even get one of these items:
$100 Barnes & Noble Gift Card
$100 Virgin Megastore Gift Card
$200 American Express Gift Card
$475 cold cash
$50 BevMo Gift Card
$50 Borders Gift Card
$50 Gap Gift Card
$50 Macy’s Gift Card
$50 Pottery Barn Gift Card
2 LACMA passes
2007 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Calendar
Adidas T-Mac jump suit, black with red trim (once again pimpin’)
Amores Perros (DVD)
Atlas soccer beanie
Bath & Body Works Willow Bath Basket
Batman Begins (DVD)
Captain Morgan Spiced Rum (the handle, of course)
Adidas sweatshirt, Grove Street style
Moonlighting Season 1 & 2 (DVD)
Okami (Playstation 2 game)
Once Upon a Time in the West (DVD)
Pineau des Charentes 2001
Adidas T-shirt, red w/ black trim
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
The Stewardess is Flying the Plane: American Films of the 70’s (book)
Estimated value of the pillage is around $1,700, not bad, especially considering I didn’t spend nearly as much as I received, although some of the gifts given to me were a courteous thanks for services rendered.
In other Christmas related news, the resurgence of The Detonator has been confirmed by a missed call yesterday at 8pm, which was rapidly returned at 2pm today.
He truly is the gift that keeps on giving. Might forcefully attempt a wild rendezvous tonight, surely with reason out of the question. I alerted him as to the “End of an Era” Bash on Saturday, the one at Hillary’s Surf Shaque in Venice, the last stand before she makes way to Silver Lake. I’m saddened, especially since I never saw anyone fall off her famed rooftop, and the fact her Canada Day party was a major success.
The next day, New Years Eve, is where the real question lies. A Basher true to procedure would ensure that an extravagant number of booze options are open, along with a memorable harem of fine ladies, entertaining folk, and preferably access to a Jacuzzi with champagne on ice nearby.
If transgressions with The Detonator fail to transpire this evening, the Ricky Roma within me will relentlessly begin the yearly call spree in order to determine bold exploits or bring about inspiration with the manically motivated.