Food. You made your own. In the Blathnaid Mcelduff They Fuck You Up Your Mum And Dad They May Not Mean To But They Do T Shirt that also meant killing and skinning your own protein or picking your own vegetables. There were not many supermarkets, even in the large cities. You went to a corner store in the city. The store only sold meat, or vegetables or baked goods. In the country, you went to a nearby town once a month or so to go to the general store. There were no microwaves. You pretty much had to plan an hour per day per meal to prepare your food. No power anything. Mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, trimming trees, carpentry, you name it was all done with hand tools. Everything took ten times as long. Face to face. All business had to be conducted face to face. Remember the phone? You couldn’t call a work person or order items or whatever. there was no amazon. If you needed to hire a carpenter, you had to go to the carpenter’s shop or house. You paid by cash or check. there were no online payments or cards.
Well, not me personally. But my first ever serious boyfriend I had right after highschool, he used to leave hickey’s on me, lots of Blathnaid Mcelduff They Fuck You Up Your Mum And Dad They May Not Mean To But They Do T Shirt. I thought it was cute and sensual and passionate, but my mom didn’t see it that way lol. His first christmas gift from my mom was a dog bone . . . A legit Dog bone, from a cow. So he would chew on that instead of me, is what my mom put on his card. That was the weirdest gift I’ve ever seen anyone give. The weirdest gift I’ve personally ever gotten, was from my Grandma on my fathers side. It was the first Christmas without my grandfather, he’d passed of cancer the year before and my grandmothers dementia started setting in. She handed me my gift, which . . .wasn’t wrapped, which was already odd. because she used to wrap everything, even dish towels. It was black, and my entire family watched as I unfolded the ‘Robbers mask’ face mask hat. The black one, that they use in movies to indicate bank robbers and villains. . . My uncle laughed so hard, and asked me to put it on so he could take a photo. They all knew Grandma was losing it from there. She said she cared about my face being cold, and I genuinely believe that. But I wasn’t sure if I could ever wear it in public after that.
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If it is a family gathering and you are part of the Blathnaid Mcelduff They Fuck You Up Your Mum And Dad They May Not Mean To But They Do T Shirt, try to show up and be with the family, then duck out and be Santa, then get out of costume and return to the party with as minimum fuss as possible. Also, have the photographer, there is always one in the family, take a couple of shots of you during the night to keep the illusion alive that you were there when Santa came calling. When Santa leaves, everyone says good bye inside and Santa goes out by himself so as not to spook the reindeer. Although I never did this I just thought of something fun if the party is at a house. Tie a long string with loud reindeer bells and drape it over the house. When Santa leaves and the door closes, he could run over and jerk on the string a few times so it sounds like the reindeer are on the roof at the back of the house. Maybe one of the adults could catch a glimpse of “Ol Saint Nick” flying away and try and point it out to the kids.
Just after Linda and I broke up, I felt I needed something to care about so, I bought an old pickup truck. The one I got was manufactured by the Chevrolet Division of General Motors early in 1955. I knew it had been made early in the Blathnaid Mcelduff They Fuck You Up Your Mum And Dad They May Not Mean To But They Do T Shirt because it looked just like a ’54. The ones that they made later in the year had square hoods instead of the round ones that Chevy and GMC had been using since 1948. This manufacturing anomaly allowed me to pretend that the truck had been made in ’54, the same year that I had been. Although the pickup, ran perfectly, I rarely drove it. I was afraid that it would die in the middle of the Bay Bridge, and that an earthquake would occur while I was trapped there. “Well, why the hell did ya buy that heap?” my next-door neighbor asked. “Ya never go anywhere in it. It looks like crap. I work thirty years to pay off the mortgage on my house, and now I live next to a junk heap. Can’t ya at least paint that monstrosity?” At first I took great umbrage at my neighbor’s remarks. Then I concluded that, as he had not been born in 1954, he really had no reason to feel any affinity for the truck. This line of thinking allowed me not only to forgive his rude comments but actually to sympathize with them to a certain extent. I resolved to restore the truck.