Things are abnormally quiet in the Big Funky. Yes, the masses have crowded the malls and department stores purchasing all the same items like lemmings, but the spark of chaos is not in the air like it usually is around this time of year. I know no one's at work anymore given how few cars are in the parking garage. The temperature in the Big Funky has rather consistently been in the high 60s and low 70s which is ideal by Big Funky standards and makes the hair on the back of every mother fucker's neck in this town stand on end. Generally, people are hopping around and pissing on their haunches in this brisk air, but I haven't seen shit yet.
I think the Big Funky is experiencing the calm before the storm. When that bitch in that Wal-Mart got trampled by the rush for $30 DVD players I thought it was on, but things calmed down. Last Thursday (Hatesgiving) when the city lit up all the Christmas trees and horseshit decorations in west/central Big Funky (where I live) to the tune of a 30 minute fireworks barrage I thought for sure it was on since the fireworks also set off thousands or rampaging Mexicans who roamed the streets looking at all the new, bright lights. But I got nothing.
The only joy I get out of this holiday season is seeing fools drunked up on Christmas zeal do stupid shit that generally leaves someone dead. The Christmas spirit is a powerful narcotic coursing with hate, a narcotic yet to grip the Big Funky. Give it to me. Give it to me Big Funky, I want it, I need it. Show me how ruthless, incompetent, and stupid you can be, because no hateful acts during Christmas makes baby Jesus cry.