Merry fucking Christmas

I celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve with my dad, Ron. He gave me a plunger. And a trashcan. The assfucker is that he gave me the same trashcan last year for Christmas and didn't remember doing so. One is reminded of that lovely deskset scene from Dead Poets Society.

It is a nice plunger, as far as plungers go. The long part is a clear plastic with an ergonomic design. The plunger part is a bright blue. "It's fun, Kad!"

Yeah, but it's still a fucking plunger, Dad.

It would seem I'm doomed to spend the holidays alone with my dad as long as I stay single. We got in a fight Christmas Eve about my wedding and his money. Mind you, I'm not engaged. I'm not even in a committed relationship. What the fuck?

I watched Rebel Without a Cause for the first time yesterday. God, I love DVDs. One of the special features was James Dean's screentest. It was so weird to hear the director say "Dennis Hopper, meet Jimmy Dean." So fucking cool.