Christmas Purgatory

Posted on January 21, 2018 by sungmokoo

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You are at the top of the stairs. You are eight years old, maybe nine, maybe even ten. You still believe in Santa Claus. You are transfixed on the Christmas tree downstairs, bursting pregnant with presents. You smell stale cigarette smoke. That’s okay, it’s the 60s; everyone smoked. You perspire and it smells like grape soda and kinda urine. That’s okay, everyone urinates. You descend one step at a time. Your heart is filled with joy and anticipation of opening the presents, shredding and tearing the wrapping paper, and of course, saving the bows.

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Did I Say This Is A Pathetic Christmas?

Posted on January 20, 2018 by sungmokoo

Her eyes were red, moist crimson to be more exact, which by Deidrah Barker’s standards indicates at least twenty minutes of steady crying, or twenty minutes of recovering from tear gas. The skin around her nose was raw and freshly chaffed, pores exposed, on the precipice of premature gin blossoms. It’s worth the extra twenty to seventy cents to go Kleenex® or Puffs®, after all, YOLO.

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Tonight I’m Going To Party Like It’s Christmas In ‘99

Posted on January 19, 2018 by sungmokoo

Bill_and_Hillary_Clinton_Christmas_Portrait_1999_(cropped1)

Further proof of Christmas in 1999.

Christmas came and went like so many empty calories on the sweatiest day of my life. In the blink of a Korean eye, which everyone knows is a nanosecond shorter than other ethnic blinks. You know, because of the proximity of eyelids in that near perma-squint, which some racists call slants. All I’m saying is that a door half-closed shuts faster than a door wide open.

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The Christmas Cow

Posted on January 17, 2018 by sungmokoo

“You better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout, I’m telling you why. Christmas Cow.”

The Christmas Cow brooded. It was the only logical emotional state after eight hours of uncontrollable weeping in a cage intended only to fatten him. For the first time in his short stupid existence, three years, he learned his true purpose, and it had absolutely nothing to do with spreading “spiritual” holiday cheer. Unless, of course, one achieves “spirituality” through dining on prime rib on Christmas Day. It’s a thing. In fact, take a look in the mirror; you may be a contributor.

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