Well into 2009 but can't go without mentioning a few more holiday highlights:
Recession Junk Draw Gift Box
I wanted to buy all my friends fabulous Christmas gifts, but because of the tough economic times, I just can't afford it. BUT, this doesn't mean I can't still gift them.
So I came up with the Recession Junk Draw Gift Box: items were quite literally taken from junk drawers and forgotten nooks and crannies to compile a box chock full of . . . junk. Everything from a scratched up DVD, a two-year old can of chewing tobacco, RCA, lanyards for VIP access to parties that had already happened and countless other surprises. People were instructed to dip their hand in the box without looking and grab whatever came to their grasp.
The box went from family gathering to house party to nightclub and back - all with surprisingly high acclaim. Very few put there less-than-expected gift back. One person just opted to leave their broken light cord on a chair, pictured below. Another person displayed the most unique bought of creativity by incorporating her prized RCA cord as a hair bundle . . .
Holiday Poem by joeSeff
And what holiday experience would be complete without some seasonal clever word construction? That's why our dear local DJ joeSeff put together his own rendition of "Twas the night before Christmas" to promote his Dec. 20 performance at Bar 415. Here's what he came up with . . .
No progressive was spinning, not even Deadmau5;
The DJs were hung like a chimney or bear,
(Hey, I don’t understand why you’d be laughing right there…)
The guys at the bar drank their beer, wheats and reds,
While visions of hot-chicks danced by their heads;
And Shawn in his red hat, and I in my cap,
3 Vodka Red Bulls? We won’t be taking a nap!
When out on the sidewalk there arose such a clatter,
I sprang out of the booth to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Said “hey” to the bouncer and his handful of cash.
The moon on the breast of a crazy hot ho
Gave a unexpected wake up call to the “objects below.”
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little Greek bartender, his face full of glee,
I knew in a moment it must be Demetri.
More rapid than eagles the ladies they came,
And he giggled and smiled and called them by name;
“Now Katie! Now Andrea!, Lindsay and Mary,
On Sarah! On Amanda!, on Kali and Mandy!!
To the top of the bar! Top of the bar!,” was his call,
“Now dance away! Dance away! Dance away all!”
So up to the bar-top the ladies they flew,
To dance to the beats of palindroSeff with you.
And then, in a twinkling, they heard from the roof,
The guy that’s the subject of the clever little spoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney this old fat bastard came with a bound.
He was dressed in velour, from his head to his foot,
His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of CDs he had flung on his back,
He looked like a peddler, a peddler on crack.
His eyes…how they twinkled, his pupils so huge,
His butt crack was showing, like a red-neck from Baton Rouge.
His red nose kept him sniffling, a sound you all know,
And the beard of his chin sprinkled white with the snow;
The hose of a Hooka he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a fat face, and an even fatter belly,
He needs to lay off the doughnuts, yes, even the jelly.
One shouted “Santa?”, said another “he’s a phony…”
“That’s the guy from the ice rink that drives the Zamboni.”
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
He emptied his glock and filled that guy with lead.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Delivered the sack full of CDs; then turned with a jerk.
And raising his sleigh key up to his nose,
One quick bump, and up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his feet, when the cops blew their whistle,
And darted down the alley like a heat-guided missle.
But they heard him exclaim, as he hid out of sight,
“Happy Christmas, bitches, have a helluva night!”
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