Christmas

I think we all know that raccoons are some truly Yakubian creatures. If cats were dogs theoretical type shit. Just real disturbed on a baseline level. And I don't know if they're on Baal mode, or if this is a regional thing, or if they just hate me personally, or whatever, but it seems like these things always wanna fuck with you on Christmas specifically. And it feels like it's got to have been getting worse and worse cause the past few years at the end of the day I'm always sitting there picking flesh and sinew out of my fingernails, covered in blood and bites and scratches, basking in that hollow victory that only a warrior could know. It really dampens the holiday spirit and gets the family all upset, but it's not my fault. Not like I'm the one picking fights with the scavengers. The raccoons I mean, not the Level 4 Bandits down the street.

And year after year, people keep telling me "just get a gun, dude, there's no reason you should be boxing rodents," but that's just deranged. Guns are a bad idea. They always have been - and everyone would know that if they would just read between the lines a bit. They call firearms 'The Great Equalizer', see, I'm sure you've all heard that term thrown around once or twice. But therein lies the problem: I don't want to be on equal footing with a raccoon, let alone The Horde. If I become equal with them, what the hell happens next? They start speaking English. They start eating with forks and knives. And if they see me posted on the block with the blicky? Come on now. Next Christmas when they come for me, they're all gonna have guns of their own, and that's just not the kind of battle I think I could win. But you know, who's to say.

That's all I got for this week though. Every year is a constant, enduring battle against time to prepare myself and fortify my home for Dec. 25, so I don't have as much time to get my thoughts down like this as I would like. Bye.